Page 3 of Porter (Dirty Misfits MC 2)
Then, I took off riding.
The entire ride, though, I smelled that whiskey. Every time I exhaled, the scent slapped me in the face. I didn’t get five miles into my stress-free ride before I pulled off to the side of the road. I felt grounded, strong, and better than I had in a long time. Except that whiskey kept tempting me from my breast pocket and the smell on my own breath stirred needs within my gut that I knew I needed to steer clear of.
That’s why you lost her.
I closed my eyes as memories of Astrid bombarded my mind. Her strawberry blonde hair that curled up like wet beach hair. Her hazel eyes that sparkled with the colors of the forest in the moonlight. Her sloping curves rounded with muscles underneath that she painstakingly kept up in the gym.
“Damn it, I miss her,” I whispered.
As my eyes opened, I thought back to how we first met. Astrid and I encountered one another when Brooks and myself were only prospects. And the first thing Brooks ever made me promise him in our years-long friendship was that I wouldn’t touch his sister.
No matter what.
And while I took that promise seriously, that didn’t stop me from staring. It didn’t stop me from dreaming about her at night. It didn’t stop me from growling her name every time I stroked my cock whenever it woke me up at night. She was a beautiful woman inside and out. Intelligent, sassy, head-strong, stubborn as fuck, and gorgeous to boot. She was perfect in every way for me.
Except for being Brooks’ sister.
When he went off to prison, I took it upon myself to watch over her. To watch out for her and make sure she didn’t need anything. But when she moved away from Santa Cruz altogether, I learned to bury my crush. And it wasn’t until later on during a visit I had with Brooks that I figured out my drinking was a massive no-no for her.
Guess it reminded her of their mother or some shit.
Either way, I never could get her out of my head. I never could get her out of my dreams. And as I stared at the flask in my hand that I’d pulled out of my breast pocket, I uncapped the top and took another massive gulp.
Maybe if I drank enough, it would drown out her memory for good.
Two
Astrid
Honk honk! “Get the fuck out of the way, you fat ass!”
Honk honk! “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”
Honk honk honk! “Shit or get off the pot, asshole!”
I rolled my eyes as I pulled my rinky dink car off to the side of the road. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but I hated being rushed first thing in the morning. It was why I left my apartment forty-five minutes before I was supposed to be at work. Then I could take my time getting coffee, battling traffic, and sitting at red lights for far too long without actually being late.
Except this morning, it seemed as if everyone were running behind but me.
“Anyone think of planning ahead?” I murmured to myself.
I watched as a parade of middle fingers went by, flicking me off for not stomping on my gas pedal a fraction of a second before I had. I hated being the first to go at a green light. If I didn’t stomp on that gas pedal two seconds before the light actually changed colors, a symphony of horns honked in my general direction. What the hell did they think I was, anyway? Some sort of medium? Did they think I was psychic? Like I could predict the fucking future?
I rolled my window down. “Fucking clit lickers!”
Another horn honked at me and I flicked them off while taking a massive sip of my iced coffee. Cold coffee and creamer was all I needed to get my day started, and when I began chugging, I didn’t stop until I slurped up all the creamy goodness that settled to the bottom of my cup. I drew in a deep breath as I eased back into traffic, hoping and praying I’d get to work without another slew of curses being thrown in my general direction.
I wasn’t so lucky, though.
God, I’m getting tired of Los Angeles.
After I pulled into the music studio I rented by the hour in order to work, I made my way inside. With my hands full of my voice-over equipment, I unlocked the door and quickly got to work. The quicker I could get things done, the less money I’d have to foot over in hourly rent.
If I had my own room, I could save close to a grand a month.
I snorted with laughter before I sat in my chair. A soundproof room? In the middle of L.A.? I wasn't sure who the hell I had to suck off to make that happen, but I sure as hell didn’t have the money for that. I mean I wasn’t hurting for money, but I didn’t make that kind of money doing voice-overs for video games. I’d done a few guest appearances in cartoons and animated movies, but nothing that ended up giving me recurring work. Still, it got my name out there enough for me to branch into the newest wave of voice-over recording artistry.
