Loving a Biker

Chapter Eight

I woke up to the sun beaming down upon my face.

What happened last night?

All I could remember was not very gracefully walking to Mason's motorcycle with him and then the rest was a blur.

I looked over and saw him asleep in the dew-covered grass next to me, his arms tenderly wrapped around me.

My clothes, though technically on me, were not on as well as they had been when I left Allie and Charlie's home.

Oh fuck. I slept with him.

Suddenly Mason's eyes opened, and he smiled at me. The smile quickly disappeared when he looked at his phone.

"Jesus," he grunted, wiping his eyes.

I looked over at him, "What's wrong?"

"I'm late for work," he groaned. "Though this may be the best reason I've had for being late yet."

We both stood up and started making our way back to where he had parked his bike.

"So uh..," I murmured. "What, uh, what happened last night?"

He laughed, "Well, I'm sure it wasn't hard to guess that we slept together. You were a little inebriated, though, I suppose."

"Was... Was it okay..? Like, was I okay..?"

"Yeah, babe. You were fantastic."

He just called me babe!

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and kept it there for the rest of the walk.

Once we got to his bike, he took me back to Allie's, and after giving me his number, he left for work.

I quietly walked in the front door and slipped into the room that was temporarily mine.

After changing into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, I climbed into bed and fell back to sleep.

When I woke up, I sent Mason a text simply saying 'Hey', then walked out into the living room where Allie was sitting on the couch.

She looked at me, "Well good morning sunshine! I was worried about you last night when you didn't come home after the party."

My face immediately turned red, "I uh... I was with M-Mason."

"Oh. Well at least he's one of the few nice men around here. I've known Mason and Tyler both since they were in diapers. Good young men."

So much for leaving a good impression. Haven't even been here for twenty-four hours and already fucking it up. Figures.

"Anyways, honey," she continued, "I've got a few errands to run. Make yourself at home, and my number is on the fridge if you need anything."

"Thank you," I smiled, still trying to recover from my embarrassment.

I sat down in a large, soft chair and pulled my phone out of my pocket.

After debating a few minutes, I finally convinced myself to send the most stressful text of my life:

Hey, it's Auden.