"I, ah, yeah. You are?" I asked, moving with the dog into the room slightly.
"Teddy," he supplied. "You would be looking for Remy," he told me. Boyish good looks. Bleached hair. Lots of ink. He's around here somewhere."
"Okay. great. Thanks," I said, backing out of the room, making my way down the front hall toward the back of the house. Where I found myself in the kitchen. I also found the most hideous and worn linoleum known to mankind.
The space itself was nice, roomy, with a center island and a seating area to the right. The cabinets were an outdated style and the stain was wearing off, the copper plating on the handles chipping, and the black fridge and the white stove clashed with the stainless steel dishwasher. But it was, overall, pretty clean. You know, save for the island that was completely lined with bottles of alcohol and stacks of plastic cups along with a few bags of opened chips.
"Ramona!" a voice called. "There you are. I was looking all over for you."
At the sound of his voice, the dog lurched out of my grasp, bounding away from me, making me whirl around to find her leaping up at a tall, fit man in a blue and white striped tank top, a pair of white board shorts, with the bleached hair I'd been told to look for.
"Neighbor girl," he said, giving me a smile, all bright white teeth and charm. "Did she find her way to your place?"
"Yeah. She was, ah, hanging out on my back porch. The girls here seem a little reckless about leaving the doors open."
"Yeah. She should have been up in my room with the others. But someone must have ducked into my room for a minute and she pounced out."
"And then they were too afraid to admit they lost the dog of a biker dude," I surmised.
"Exactly," he agreed. "Thanks for bringing her home. She's not usually one to wander. She probably saw you , and decided to come say hi. She loves people. And, sometimes, they don't love her back because of her breed."
"People suck."
"They do," he agreed, smiling. "Remy."
"Harmon," I said, not extending my hand because he didn't first. "Well, I just wanted to bring her back safely. I will let you get back to your party," I said, giving him this embarrassing low wave.
"No, hey, stick around," Remy said, gesturing out toward the house. "Plenty of fun to be had. Alcohol to be drank. Cold pizza to be eaten."
"I shouldn't," I said, shaking my head.
I wasn't against parties. But I didn't know anyone here. And I wasn't sure that bikers and their groupies were exactly my people.
"Girl, yes," a voice said, coming in from behind Remy, making us both turn. And there was a woman in a neon green bikini top and a paisley wrap over her ample body, the color setting off her dark skin. "Love this outfit. Don't give a fuck works on you," she added, waving a hand toward me.
"I, ah, I was just returning Remy's dog," I said, waving. "I live next door. I wouldn't usually wear this to a party."
"Why not? if I had legs like that, I'd never cover them up."
"This is Ayanna. She's an old friend."
"I knew this one before he learned what a pussy feels like," Ayanna declared, eyes twinkling as she flipped her one chunky braid made up of a bunch of smaller braids back over her shoulder. "I was best friends with Huck's little sister before she fell in love with a biker in New Jersey, and ran off on me," Ayanna explained. "And your little ass just happened to move in next to a biker compound, huh?"
"I, ah, yeah. The rent was really low. On account of the unsavory neighbors," I said, giving Remy a smirk.
"Gotta be smart with the money. Come on. Have a cold slice with me. Let the boys do their whoring."
"Thanks again," Remy said before moving off toward the front of his house, his dog following behind, her loving gaze on his back the whole way.
"Who in the world ordered veg?" Ayanna asked, flipping open a full box. "I mean, who ruins a perfectly good pile of carbs and fat with vegetables? Well, that's what we've got. Here," she said, handing me a slice. "So, who are you?"
"Harmon," I supplied, taking a bite of the pizza."
"What do you do, Harmon?"
"I, ah, I play video games and film it. Then I make money from it."
"Lots of pervs in that business, I imagine," she mused.
"You're not wrong," I agreed. "But there are a lot of girl gamers who are just happy to see another of our kind in the public eye, so they tune in."
"Make good money that way?"
"Yeah, actually. I know it won't last forever. Once the pretty starts to fade, so will the viewership."
"You got a while still. Lots of pretty left. Do you have a man?"
"Ah, no. You?"
"Yeah."
"Is he here?"
"Nah. He's working. He's always working," she said, and I would swear there was a hint of bitterness in her tone. "So while he works, I party," she said, shrugging.
"He doesn't mind?"
"I don't ask," Ayanna said. "He's my man, not my keeper," she added.
"I like that," I decided.
"Oh, shit. Ayanna, what are you filling her head with about us?" another of the bikers, the one with the locs and killer jaw, asked, walking up to pour himself a drink.
"I know this might be shocking to you, McCoy, but we little females don't spend all our time gabbing about your ass."
"Whatever she says about us is a bold-faced exaggeration," McCoy said, giving Ayanna a grin.
"He knows damn well I play down their dirty deeds out of love for them," Ayanna countered.
"You're Harmon," McCoy said, looking at me, gaze hard. Like he didn't like me. Or maybe he didn't trust me for some reason. But that made no sense. "Did Huck invite you?"
"Did Huck invite who?" a deep, familiar, far too sexy voice asked, coming in from the back. "Oh, hey," he said, coming to a stop as his gaze fell on me. "Everything alright?" he asked, brows drawing together. "Did you need something?"
"She was returning your dog, you ingrates," Ayanna declared, rolling her eyes. "The two of you are looking at her like she crashed your damn party."
I gave Ayanna a grateful smile before turning back to Huck. "Remy's dog paid me a visit. I just wanted to bring her back And then..." I said, waving out my slice of pizza. "I'm not going to stay," I added.
"No, it's fine," Huck insisted. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like McCoy shot Huck a disapproving look. I don't know what he had against me, but I didn't imagine it was a good thing that a biker next door didn't like you. "Stay. Have a couple drinks. Maybe enjoy the music instead of being annoyed by it," he said, smirking
"Thanks for the quiet, by the way. I've gotten a lot of work done."
"Oh, there has been a neighborly dispute, and I wasn't told about it?" Ayanna said, tssking her tongue. "Don't be afraid to stand up to these brutes," she added, waving at them. "They look all big and mean and surly—and don't get me wrong, they can be—but they aren't complete assholes."