Twerking girl scans the bar and grins widely when her eyes settle on Malice, who’s standing near the stage so he can be close to Apple.
“I’ve got just the dare for you,” she says.
“Aw, fuck, Tia,” Ivory groans. “Get that look off your face. You know how I feel about bikers.”
Hmmm… This should be interesting.
“I do,” Tia confirms. “But you said you wanted to see what we had, so…”
“I double dog dare you to take a chance on a biker.”
The words are out of my mouth as soon as I’m within earshot of the group, and all eyes turn to me.
“Excuse me?” Ivory says, her gaze traveling from my face down to my boots and back again. “Were you eavesdropping?”
The guy smacks her playfully on the shoulder. “Who the fuck cares, heifer?”
My hackles rise at the nickname, and I step closer to him. “Call her that again, and we’re gonna have a real fuckin’ problem.”
Ivory settles her hand on my bicep, and I swear sparks fly between us. “He didn’t mean anything by it.” She turns to her friend. “Did you, Eric?”
“Of course not,” Eric says. “Hell, Ivory’s my bestie. I’d never do anything to hurt her.”
I relax slightly. “Good to know.”
“Now that that’s settled,” Tia begins. “Let’s get back to that whole double dog dare thing.”
I grin, my eyes remaining on Ivory. “Seems to me that you were up in your little game. Figured I’d help with that.”
“I don’t date bikers,” Ivory quips, crossing her arms over her chest.
Clearly, she doesn’t realize how much that little movement pushes up her cleavage, and I sure as hell ain’t tellin’ her.
“Gonna have to dance with me first, sweetheart,” I say. “Then maybe I’ll consider dating.”
“Ooh, I like him,” Eric beams. “Can we keep him, Ivory? Please?”
“I dare you to dance with…” Tia glances at me and drops her gaze to my patch. “Spike.”
“Hunter,” I supply. “My name is Hunter. My road name is Spike. You can call me either.”
Tia smiles and faces Ivory. “I dare you to dance with Hunter slash Spike.”
Ivory rolls her eyes. “You sure? You don’t want to think about it for a minute, maybe come up with something… better?”
“Oh, she’s sure,” Eric states.
“Fine.”
Ivory grabs my hand and tries to drag me to the middle of the bar, but I don’t budge. When she glares at me over her shoulder, I arch a brow.
“It’d be nice if you didn’t act like you were on your way to be slaughtered,” I tease.
“For all I know, I could be.”
“I think I can do a little better than that. Be right back.”
Tugging out of her grip, I hurry toward the stage and Malice.
