Finding Out

By: Lila Rose

A Hawks Motorcycle Club Novella: 2.5



Chapter One


Online dating. Some were for it and some against. Me? I was somewhere in the middle. You see, I joined the ‘Find Your Soul-Mate’ dating site six months ago. Although, I’d never been on since filling out the form, until today. The reason being, I had no other choice now. I was desperate. My cousin’s wedding was creeping up slowly and I had a just over a week to find a date to take.

The truth, I had lied and now it was coming back to bite me on my huge arse. I’d told my bitchy cousin Leanne I was bringing my long-time hot, successful boyfriend Max. The only problem was he didn’t exist. This left me scrolling through the list of potential victims who could accompany me on this date and pretend we’d been an item for two years.

The door to my office—out the back of the café I owned—opened and in strolled Helen, my best friend since we wore diapers. She looked great in her pantsuit. The sight of her had me thinking that I wished I’d have said I was a lesbian. At least then, I could have taken Helen and we would have had a fun night. Instead, it was just going to be awkward. Especially since my parents were flying in from Melbourne to go to the wedding, and they couldn’t wait to meet my serious boyfriend.

Yes, I had lied to them as well. In my defence, my mum kept hounding me about marriage and babies. They thought having a twenty-eight-year-old single daughter was wrong. That was only because my younger brother and sister were both happily married off.

Arguably, the happy part was still debatable.

Dragging the chair in front of my desk around next to me, Helen sat down. She slapped my hand away from my mouth because she hated my habit of chewing my nails, seemingly oblivious to my worrying over my whole life falling apart.

She pulled her long blonde hair up and tied it into a ponytail on the top of her head. She was beautiful, with her sexy hair, bedroom deep-blue eyes and Jessica Rabbit figure. Turning gay was still an option; I could just say that Helen won my heart away from my serious, fake boyfriend.

She cleared her throat before she spoke. “No, I will not take one for the team and become gay for you, even for one night.”

“Poop,” I sighed.

“Come on, Ivy. You’ll find someone perfect who will make your she-bitch-from-hell who-is-actually-a-guy and sucks-cock-like-the-dirty-tramp she is cousin choke on her own tongue.”

Did you feel the hate? Not that I could blame her, Leanne did steal Helen’s fella, who she was now marrying. I even hated my cousin for it and I refused to go to her wedding, until my mum rang and threatened that since I was the only cousin living in Sydney, I was to attend no matter the situation or else she was going to post on Facebook that she wished me well on my sex change. Yeah, my mum could be a bitch.

“I can only hope,” I muttered and slumped back in my seat as Helen pulled my laptop closer to her.

“Oh, look at this one. He’s got a nice profile picture. It says, ‘Hi, my name is Nick and I love pussy.’ Okay, maybe not that one,” she giggled. I rolled my eyes. Some men were true idiots. “Look at this. You haven’t even opened your message box. Mr Right could be sitting in there waiting for you. Let’s see.”

I didn’t bother looking. Helen lived an orderly life and I hoped she’d help...all right, take control of this and just point me in the right direction. Though, I was actually surprised people had messaged me. My profile picture was not that good. I’d uploaded the one where Helen had just said something funny and I was laughing hard while we were out at a park with my German Sheppard Trixie. My brown eyes were squinty and my long, wavy, mousy-coloured hair was blowing in the breeze, which meant it was everywhere, including over my face and a bit in my mouth. Still, six months ago Helen had insisted on that photo. She’d said it would let a man know that I was fun and full of life. I honestly thought she was full of shit. Now I thought she was only half-full of shit. I had messages in my box. I wish I had something else in my box...it had been too long since it was last filled.

“Right, you have two potentials out of ten. The other eight are just scary and will not be worth mentioning.”

I sat up and adjusted my jeans and tee. Just because I owned a café, it didn’t mean I had to dress like the boss. I would hate to wear something like Helen wore every day at her journalism job. My café was all about being comfy. If I was happy and comfy, then I hoped it meant my workers would be, as well as my patrons.

“Hit me with the good ones then,” I said. She moved the laptop so we could both see the screen. When my eyes landed on the profile picture in front of me, I uttered, “Holy shit, I wish I was a virgin again so I could lose it to this guy.”

“I know,” Helen sighed. She shook her head and continued with, “Here’s what he’s written about himself. My name is Fox Kilpatrick. I’m thirty-eight years old and I work in construction. I’m looking for someone who is fun and lively. I like to go to the movies, cook and clean.”

I snorted. “No way would a guy say he likes to clean. Either his sister filled this out or there is something seriously wrong with the man.”

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