“Yeah, that’d be me.”

“Rat and I are huge fans. We followed your career in Portland and Vancouver.”

Rat? The big guy didn’t look like a rat, more like a bear.

“Thank you,” I said graciously, then I had a wicked thought on how to get even with Geneva. “Why don’t you guys sit down and join us. I’ll buy you a beer.”

They didn’t wait for a second invitation. In fact, they scrambled so quickly to find a couple empty chairs to pull up to the table that they ran into each other several times. I watched the entire performance with amusement, purposely ignoring the annoyed glares from Geneva.

The two bikers sat down, their big bodies barely fitting in the chairs. The other guy’s name was Gator. I didn’t ask how either got their names. Instead, we talked hockey, and I admired their tats. Within the next half hour, several other guys joined us, and we talked hockey and bikes. Of course, I didn’t know a damn thing about bikes, so I mostly listened.

I sat back and sipped on my beer, enjoying myself immensely. The crowded conditions at the table had forced my chair against Geneva’s to the point where our thighs rubbed, which was a blessing and a curse. Having physical contact with her felt heavenly but also increased my frustration.

Just because I wasn’t torturing myself enough, I put my arm across the back of her chair and fiddled with her hair as I spoke to these guys. She stiffened for several seconds but eventually relaxed when I rubbed the back of her neck slowly and gently.

We ate our burgers, and I played a game of pool with Rat and almost beat him, but the man was a damn pool shark who gave the appearance of not having a competitive bone in his body until he picked up the pool cue.

Then it was game on.

I thankfully shook his hand and backed away when someone else placed money on the table in order to be next to challenge the winner.

Making my way back to the table, I caught Geneva’s eyes and smiled. Taking my seat, I grinned at her. “Fun place. We should come here again sometime.”

She frowned, then much to my surprise, she let out a bark of laughter. “You played me.”

“I didn’t play you. You were playing me. I called your bluff and raised the stakes.” I leaned toward her and lowered my voice. “You underestimated me. I fit in most anywhere with any crowd. You thought I’d be floundering in a biker bar, but you didn’t count on hockey being the universal language around here.”

“You got me there,” she said with a shrug.

I was a bad winner, because I couldn’t resist a smug smile.

Chapter 20—Biker Chick

~~Geneva~~

When I’d accepted a date with Axel, I came up with the idea of taking him to a biker bar. I’d fully expected him to be a fish out of water, or would that be a Sockeye out of water? My intent had been to demonstrate how wrong we were for each other.