Treacherous

I don't know how I expected my night to end, but being escorted to a Harley by a guy with this many tattoos had not been in any of the scenarios I'd entertained. Silly me.
"This one's yours?" I ask as we reach a bike in the middle and Juice beams, looking proud.
It's a good look on him. "Yep,"
"It's beautiful." I say honestly as he produces two helmets, smiling down at me larger than ever. "Wanna take her for a spin?"
I say yes without a seconds thought and then stand there stunned at myself-it's like having an out-of-body experience.
"I live-" Juice stops me with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"I know-I'm in charge of intel for the Club." Huh. This was a strangely attractive revelation.
"Climb on," I do, and once he climbs on in front of me, I hesitate, feeling frozen and dumb.
"What do I do now?" Juice smiles at me flirtatiously over his shoulder, and I feel a jolt as he takes my hands and places them, one on top of the other on his hard stomach, laying one of his leather-gloved hands on top of them for a moment, squeezing reassuringly before pulling it away to don his clear glasses. "Just hold on."
He tells me before reaching to start the bike with a load roar, the whole thing rumbling to life beneath us. Hang on. Okay. I can do that.

We don't speak on our way across town through the chilly night-how can we?-so I'm surprised when Juice fluidly pulls his bike up in front of my house, driving the bike and trusting his intel on my address with absolute confidence. It's quiet once he kills the engine and helps me climb off.
I'm in awe of the way he'd driven his bike-completely naturally, like it was an appendage he was born with. It was undeniably sexy.
The coffee and night air had sobered me up marginally, but I still find myself exhausted, and my fingers fumble with the clasp of the helmet as I stand there looking anywhere but at the man in front of me, and Juice brushes my fingers aside effortlessly, gently doing it himself far more easily than I could have managed, and I stand still, letting him, and feeling like a kindergartener.
"Where are your keys?" I reach into the bag slung against my hip, producing them with a jangle, holding the house key aloft, separate from the others. Juice plucks them from my fingers without comment and is cutting across my lawn, up to the front door, calling "Stay put," over his shoulder. What is he doing? Do I want to know?
He goes in, leaving the front door ajar behind himself and I see lights coming on inside, one by one. After a moment, Juice comes around from the rear of the house, apparently having discovered the back door. "All clear." He tells me, "I'll be out here if you need me."
I blink at him stupidly. "What are you talking about?"
Juice stands there, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, debating on how bluntly he should put this.
"Someone should be on watch, especially over the next few days." He shrugs.
"Your car, your business..."
Juice is kind enough, gentle enough to let me put the rest together for myself.
"My house," The only thing left untouched, and maybe not for long. It all hits home for me then, quite literally. Up until that moment I could pretend it wasn't at all personal, wasn't about me.
But now...now I needed MC security, needed someone checking my bedroom before I could even go to bed. I try to act unfazed in front of him and paste on a smile.
"So, you drew the short straw, huh?"
Juice laughs at this, the first time I can remember seeing him do so, and it lights his whole face.
"Actually, I volunteered. Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
I'm reluctant and bewildered at this sudden turn of events, stuck on the fact that he'd volunteered to stay here and keep me safe.
"You'll be okay out here? By yourself?"
Juice laughs again at this, and he's wonderful about not making me feel awkward for not inviting him into my home while I slept and I vow to set an alarm, to wake up as early as possible, so he can get back to his normal life. "I'll be fine, Charlie." He actually seems amused as I hug him impulsively.
"Goodnight, Juice." I take a page from his book, calling this last over my shoulder before locking my house up tight, Murray running right up to me, excited that his mistress is finally home. I scoop him up and take the both of us straight to bed.

My alarm goes off at an indecent hour and I groan, practically peeling my tacky eyes open.
Five hours. I had gotten five hours of sleep.
I know Juice had gotten even less, and I shouldn't complain, but I find myself sulking anyway, blaming the hangover. Murray, oblivious to my pain, is sprawled across my chest, and I make it my first order of business to remove him before slamming the alarm into it's 'off' position. There.
That was better. Next, I needed a shower. I feel guilty doing this while Juice is stuck outside (I could see him from my front window when I'd glanced out, propped against his bike, arms and legs crossed, nodding his shaved head to a beat that only he could hear), but not guilty enough to skip it all together. I reek like a biker club, and I'm sure this is something I've mentioned before, but he's cute, and I'm vain. So sue me.
Once I'm done, and I make sure I'm done quickly, I open my door for him. My hair is damp, coffee is brewing and somehow...somehow it feels right to prop my hip against the door jamb and call out "Hey, fresh-squeezed!" In a lilting voice.
Juice actually turns around at this almost making me laugh out loud, and I realize I'm happy to see him. I'm getting ahead of myself here, but I can't stop. He gives me the once over as he approaches, leaving me feeling very adequate in my old denim cutoffs and v-neck.
"Why don't you come on in, grab some breakfast?" I offer, making him grin contagiously, following me inside and immediately going for the kitchen, helping himself to some coffee while I dive headfirst into my fridge, honestly thankful for the distraction.
"Gonna make some scrambled eggs?" He teases as he grabs a seat, knowing full well I'm in a very precarious state. "Extra runny?"
I bolt upright, gulping air, willing myself not to vomit.
That's the last thing in the world I want Juice to see me doing.
"Get bent." I tell him absent-mindedly, waving a tube of crescent rolls around, green faced.
"Just for that I'm not putting butter on these suckers." This makes him laugh again, and my nausea settles considerably, because I'm too consumed with watching him to think about it.
"What, not homemade?" He continues as I pop the tube and begin to roll them out onto the counter "Not today," I answer, reaching around him to turn the oven on, feeling a pang-I should be starting the ovens at work.
"Why did I drink so much last night?" I groan aloud, being a baby about the entire thing and not caring. I can barely bend over to place the rolls into the oven without my head feeling like it's going to crack in half. "Piney has that influence over people," Juice tells me, drawing me out of my thoughts for a moment. Piney. I had almost forgotten about him. I wish I had. I groan anew, shuddering this time for the full effect.
"Did he really think I was a sticky bun?" I ask as I make myself a cup of coffee and slide into the seat across from him. "A sweetbutt?" Juice corrects me, not unkindly.
"Yeah. But he probably thought I was a sweetbutt too the first time he met me, so I wouldn't worry about it." I laugh, picturing a sweet innocent Juice encountering Piney for the first time and find myself blurting out to my horror, "I like you."
Juice, instead of taking me for a weirdo, thankfully seems pleased at this information, blushing which is something I feel proud for being responsible over considering his cafe au lait skin tone. "You're not so bad either, Charlie." Before there's time for things to go awkward and quiet, Juice launches into a discussion about the club, his hometown, what got me started baking and I settle back into my chair, ready to get to know him as we wait for our breakfast, realizing with startling clarity that Juice is exactly what I want.

~This slope is treacherous
This path is reckless
This slope is treacherous
And I, I, I like it

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night
And I will get you, get you alone
Your name has echoed through my mind
And I just think you should, think you should know
That nothing safe is worth the drive and I will
Follow you, follow you home...
I'll follow you, follow you home...