Bishop and Nathan - 4:30PM
Nathan blinked once, and then he blinked again. Put off by the look of the guy that addressed him, but was trying not show it. The dude had a mohawk. A straight up, Viking styled braided thing. And a leather cut that pronounced him a Hellhound. Not that Nathan was put off by them, not really at all. He just hadn’t met one yet. He hadn’t really been focused on the men in leather, because there were a lot more faces in the growing group of people in the bar that were much prettier. He actually thought he’d seen Cherry somewhere in there, but lost her face again just as quickly.
“Uh, hey,” Nathan replied, commandeering one of the empty chairs across from the biker. “Yeah, the LBJ is what I’m callin’ home these days. Got family there.” He hesitated saying Savannah’s name because he wanted the guy to make an opinion on him that wasn’t based on who he shared genetics with. “Didn’t really think the crowd went farther than LBJ and your crew, but I haven’t been checkin’ credentials.” Then he remembered his manners. “The name’s Nathan,” he introduced himself with his hand out thrusted for the biker to shake.