Page 13 of Size Queen

5

Noelle

Ihad a four-day workweek that began on Tuesday and is finally ending today. I woke up incredibly early the day before and got little sleep last night before waking up early again today to get back at it. My intention is to go straight from the shoot back to the apartment and catch up on sleep.

Then, on our way back home from work, Sabrina decides to start trying to rope me in to her crazy shenanigans.

“It’s Friday night!” she says. “You’re going to tell me after this week youdon’twant to get some guy to buy you drinks all night?”

“I wouldloveto get drunk with you,” I begin. “But—”

“Butts belong in a bar on Friday night, not at home!” she interrupts. “Come on—Molly and some of the other girls really wanted to go to that new place downtown, Figueroa’s. There are atonof hot guys there withtonsof money, so I hear.”

I have been wanting to get closer to Molly and some of the other girls I work with, but I am more in favor of theprinciple. Whenever I actually think about spending long uninterrupted periods of time with them, I can never fully get on board with the idea. I am more into just hanging out at home with Sabrina or spending time with a guy.

I haven’t thought about any other guy besides Damon since we’d had sex in the back of his shop. I am honestly having trouble thinking about anything else other than him. He is so hot, so tender, and so good… he knows how to please a woman. I keep replaying our night together in my head, from the motorcycle rides to the ride on his couch.

But I can tell that Sabrina really wants to go out. Against my instincts, I relent and agree to join her and the others for their girls’ night out. I don’t intend on getting anyone to buy me drinks, but I do wonder if being around more attractive men would be enough of an antidote to break the spell I’ve been put under.

Sabrinaand I take two hours to get ready, but the time put in is worth it. We look good, and I feel great. I feel better about going out and am looking forward to the girl time.

We head to Figueroa’s, slowly moving through the chaotic weekend traffic downtown. There are lines outside the most-known bars and clubs, some even extending out into the street. I am not sure what to anticipate for where we’re going, but I don’t care.

We meet up with Molly and the others outside Figueroa’s. Luckily, there isn’t a line to get in or a cover charge for us.

The place is pretty crowded inside, but there is plenty of alcohol, plenty of good music blaring on the speakers, andplentyof handsome men to ogle at from the booth we picked near the back of the place.

We are having fun. We sit together, gossiping about work, talking about guys, staring at each other’s phones, singing along badly to the music—all while getting drunker and drunker.

We have been having our good time for a good amount of time before a guy finally approaches our booth to offer Molly a drink. This sets off a chain reaction that eventually coalesces into something happening that I didn’t picture in my wildest fantasy.

From where I am sitting, I can see the front door in the distance. Stepping through that door, as if I’d rubbed a magic lamp, is a group of men all wearing similar shirts and cuts. They are bikers. And not justanybikers…

Sure enough, it is Damon, Kace, and some other bikers. They go straight for the bar, and my heart starts skipping like crazy.

“Sabrina,” I say, gesturing toward the bar.

She looks over to the bar, and her mouth drops. “Get thefuckout!”

“Can you believe it?” I say in disbelief.

“Let’s go talk to them!” says Sabrina, tugging on my wrist.

I seldom get nervous, but I feel anxious about talking to Damon again. I honestly thought I was never going to see him again. I had only gone to Raw Wheels before for work purposes, and I don’t want to show up at his building and make him think I’m some kind of obsessed stalker. He hadn’t asked for my number, so part of me worried that he didn’t even want to see me again.

Once our eyes met again, though, I immediately know that I have nothing to be afraid of. His smolder melts me instantly, and I am already his again.

“Fancy seeing you ladies here tonight,” says Damon.

He and I share a hug, embracing for several seconds.

“This is crazy,” I reply. “What are the odds of us running into each other like this?”

“It seems almost impossible,” says Damon. “It’s too crowded here by the bar. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

Damon orders us drinks and shots, carrying them from the bar over to a small table in the back big enough for just us. We sit down and take our shots in hand.

“What are we toasting?” I ask.