Romance: Young Adult Romance: The Perfect Game (A Highschool Football Romance) (Bad Boy Nerd New Adult Romance) by Stella White Page B
Authors: Stella White
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the two that stopped.
“Howdy,” I replied.
“Who do you ride with?” he asked.
“I’m with Buck and his boys,” I replied.
The two of them looked at each other, in a sort of horrified way.
“Pleasure meeting you,” they said as they turned and zoomed back to their motorcycles waiting nearby.
I laughed; Buck’s reputation was still just as serious now as it was before. He had a bad temper and a lousy habit of letting everyone know.
Despite all his faults, I still wanted to see him. I somehow felt that he deserved to know that I was back in town. Not a single member of his crew would come through without at least paying homage to the leader. I felt no different.
I slung myself back in the saddle and kicked the old girl back on. I tore down the road and towards the old bar that raised me; it wasn’t very far from here.
The Whiplash Tavern was a sort of landmark in these parts. The sign outside was well past any state of repair. The front of the bar was full of motorcycles of all shape, size, and color. The signs in the windows hummed their neon tune as I eased my cycle into an empty place.
Before I could finish pulling in, I heard a loud crash echo from inside the bar. Then what sounded like glass breaking, followed by the sound of a gunshot.
Then I saw Buck, sauntering out the front door with another man held by his collar and his belt.
“You take your shit and stay out of my town,” shouted Buck in his grizzly tone.
He threw the man to the ground as though he were a sack of flour.
“You’ll regret this,” said the man on the ground.
“I get told that a lot,” started Buck, “and I’m still waiting.”
The young pup picked himself from the ground and sprinted to a nearby motorcycle. Another man, about his same size, ran out of the tavern and joined him. They looked like they were in a hurry.
Then Buck turned over to me. It was the first time I’d seen him in five years, and it looked like he hadn’t aged a day. He was still the barrel-chested and grizzled man I’d known since I was a girl. He towered over nearly every other man I knew, and when he wasn’t the tallest, he was still usually the biggest. His cropped and disheveled beard was starting to show slight signs of grey , giving him a distinguished look, and his tattooed arms still looked just as strong as the first day I met him, maybe even a little bigger than before.
He clenched his jaw and let out a grunt before disappearing back inside. Maybe he wasn’t excited to see me, and it made me a little nervous.
I entered quietly, but recognized everyone, and they all recognized me. A loud cheer echoed through the small establishment, and I waved a meek hello.
“Thought that was your bike comin’ down the road,” Buck said as he walked back behind the bar.
“I’m amazed you can always tell,” I said.
“I damn near built that bike myself,” he replied, “I know my own work.”
He shoved a beer my direction. I took it and sipped anxiously.
“What brought you back to town,” he asked.
I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye, so I just stared into my drink.
“My momma’s sick, ” I said.
He stayed silent and washed a glass with his dishrag. He wasn’t one for words.
“I’ll be here a couple of months till she either gets better or dies,” I said, “and I don’t know which one would be better.”
“That old hag won’t die,” he started, “Paul knew how to pick his women. And, he picked a good one.”
Paul was my Dad’s name; he used to run the gang here. Buck was always his second, and when Dad finally kicked the bucket, all his assets went straight to Buck; the bar, his bike, and to some extent, me.
“Whatever happens, I just don’t want to be here too long. I got a new life to get back to.”
Buck slammed the glass on the counter so hard it shattered.
“Why the hell you gotta go sayin’ stuff like that. You just got back, and
“Howdy,” I replied.
“Who do you ride with?” he asked.
“I’m with Buck and his boys,” I replied.
The two of them looked at each other, in a sort of horrified way.
“Pleasure meeting you,” they said as they turned and zoomed back to their motorcycles waiting nearby.
I laughed; Buck’s reputation was still just as serious now as it was before. He had a bad temper and a lousy habit of letting everyone know.
Despite all his faults, I still wanted to see him. I somehow felt that he deserved to know that I was back in town. Not a single member of his crew would come through without at least paying homage to the leader. I felt no different.
I slung myself back in the saddle and kicked the old girl back on. I tore down the road and towards the old bar that raised me; it wasn’t very far from here.
The Whiplash Tavern was a sort of landmark in these parts. The sign outside was well past any state of repair. The front of the bar was full of motorcycles of all shape, size, and color. The signs in the windows hummed their neon tune as I eased my cycle into an empty place.
Before I could finish pulling in, I heard a loud crash echo from inside the bar. Then what sounded like glass breaking, followed by the sound of a gunshot.
Then I saw Buck, sauntering out the front door with another man held by his collar and his belt.
“You take your shit and stay out of my town,” shouted Buck in his grizzly tone.
He threw the man to the ground as though he were a sack of flour.
“You’ll regret this,” said the man on the ground.
“I get told that a lot,” started Buck, “and I’m still waiting.”
The young pup picked himself from the ground and sprinted to a nearby motorcycle. Another man, about his same size, ran out of the tavern and joined him. They looked like they were in a hurry.
Then Buck turned over to me. It was the first time I’d seen him in five years, and it looked like he hadn’t aged a day. He was still the barrel-chested and grizzled man I’d known since I was a girl. He towered over nearly every other man I knew, and when he wasn’t the tallest, he was still usually the biggest. His cropped and disheveled beard was starting to show slight signs of grey , giving him a distinguished look, and his tattooed arms still looked just as strong as the first day I met him, maybe even a little bigger than before.
He clenched his jaw and let out a grunt before disappearing back inside. Maybe he wasn’t excited to see me, and it made me a little nervous.
I entered quietly, but recognized everyone, and they all recognized me. A loud cheer echoed through the small establishment, and I waved a meek hello.
“Thought that was your bike comin’ down the road,” Buck said as he walked back behind the bar.
“I’m amazed you can always tell,” I said.
“I damn near built that bike myself,” he replied, “I know my own work.”
He shoved a beer my direction. I took it and sipped anxiously.
“What brought you back to town,” he asked.
I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye, so I just stared into my drink.
“My momma’s sick, ” I said.
He stayed silent and washed a glass with his dishrag. He wasn’t one for words.
“I’ll be here a couple of months till she either gets better or dies,” I said, “and I don’t know which one would be better.”
“That old hag won’t die,” he started, “Paul knew how to pick his women. And, he picked a good one.”
Paul was my Dad’s name; he used to run the gang here. Buck was always his second, and when Dad finally kicked the bucket, all his assets went straight to Buck; the bar, his bike, and to some extent, me.
“Whatever happens, I just don’t want to be here too long. I got a new life to get back to.”
Buck slammed the glass on the counter so hard it shattered.
“Why the hell you gotta go sayin’ stuff like that. You just got back, and
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