Chapter 42 #2
I’m silent. I have nothing to offer him, because it seems we’re both haunted by all the terrible things we do to one another. To the animals. And to ourselves.
He gives a tired shake of his head, pushes away the coffee he’s barely touched, then stands decisively. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Startled, I look up at him. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters, gathering his helmet and jacket. “But I know we both need a break.”
In the parking lot, Justin guides me toward his bike and alarm flutters in my stomach. “You’re not seriously thinking I’m getting on that?”
“Relax, I’ve got a spare helmet.” He pats the colorful helmet strapped to the back seat.
“The helmet’s not the problem.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
The fact that I’ll be pressed up against you, my arms wrapped around your waist while I relinquish all control to you.
“The motorcycle,” I respond carefully. “It’s dangerous.”
“The bike, huh,” he drawls. “You sure about that?”
“I’m sure,” I say stiffly. “The chances of surviving a motorcycle accident are...”
The light touch of Justin’s fingers cupping my elbow causes the rest of my sentence to trail off. “Trust me,” he says in a low, deep voice, his hazel eyes holding mine. “I’ll keep you safe.”
My heart is beating too fast in my chest. It’s not my physical safety I’m worried about.
I tug my elbow out of his grasp and hold out my hand for the helmet. With a half-smile, he swats my hand away. My pulse climbs as he leans in close to fit the helmet onto my head, adjusting the strap so he can clip it snugly under my chin, his knuckles skimming my jawline.
I stare fixedly at the tanned column of his throat as he tucks flyaway strands of my hair under the helmet lining. I find myself unwillingly captivated, my nerve endings humming with anticipation, my stomach feeling all fluttery.
Then I glance up at Justin’s face. It’s amused, as though he’s entertained by the effect he’s having on me, as though females becoming all flushed and foolish in his presence happens all the time.
I take a step back, struggling to regain my composure, calling myself all sorts of names in my head. None of them complimentary.
“You’re toying with me,” I accuse when I finally trust myself to speak.
“No, I’m playing with you.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“That suspicious mind of yours is working overtime. Give it a rest.” He hands me his jacket. “Put this on. It’ll give you some protection in the event of an accident.”
“What about you?”
“My skin’s not as pretty as yours.”
“But—”
“You’re on my bike, therefore you’re my responsibility. Put the jacket on.”
I slip it on over my blouse, pushing the sleeves back. “What about my handbag?”
“Leave it in your car. We’ll come back for it later.” When I return, he gestures to his bike. “You ever been on one of these before?”
I stare at the bike’s gleaming lines, the chromed exhaust pipe jutting out the back, thick tires bursting to go. The entire machine is designed for speed, and my whole life is about taking it slow. “No, I haven’t.”
I can feel him studying me. “Ready to try something new?”
“Yes,” I hear myself say.
He grins approvingly and gives my helmet a playful tap. “Ground rules. Keep your body in line with mine. Don’t put your feet anywhere except on the foot rests. Tap my shoulder if you need me to stop. You got all that?”
“That’s a lot of rules.”
“You should be right at home then.” He sits astride the bike and gestures for me to get on.
“Where are we going?”
“For a ride.”
“But—”
“There doesn’t always have to be a destination, TT. Sometimes it’s for the joy of the ride. Now stop stalling and get on.”
I rest my hand on his shoulder and awkwardly swing my right leg over the bike, sliding as far back on the seat as I can. The machine feels enormous beneath me.
Justin starts up the bike. “Better hold onto me,” he says over his shoulder. “I don’t want you left behind on the sidewalk.”
Quickly, I scoot closer and grip his shirt. He navigates out of the parking lot and pulls into the traffic.
Riding on the bike is an awkward balancing act as I try to hold onto Justin while still attempting to maintain a degree of distance between our bodies.
It’s impossible for me to relax. When he takes a sharp corner and I lean the wrong way, causing the bike to wobble unsteadily, he pulls over and cuts the engine.
Flipping up his visor, he twists in his seat to face me. “What’s going on?”
I raise my visor, but don’t meet his gaze. “This doesn’t feel right. I can’t get comfortable.”
“That’s because you’re thinking too much. Relax.”
“I can’t.”
“You need to trust me. On the bike you need to trust me completely.”
Lowering my visor, he faces forward, snags my arms and wraps them tightly around his waist, pulling me up against him. “Lean on me. Feel which way my body is moving and follow my lead.”
My cheeks warm at his words, but his tone is matter-of-fact. I tell myself to stop being silly. This is a bike ride, a first for me, and I should take advantage of that and enjoy the experience.
With my arms locked around his waist, we take off again, weaving through the traffic, passing sprawling office parks housing sleek corporate buildings.
My breath catches the moment I glimpse the approaching turn, but I force myself to relax and lean with Justin into the curve.
After completing the turn, I straighten with him, my skin tingling with excitement.
He squeezes my wrist, and that brief gesture of approval has warmth curling through my body.
The wind and engine noise make verbal communication difficult, but I don’t mind.
There’s no pressure to keep a conversation going and I find myself enjoying the rare, flash glimpses of farmland that have so far escaped industry’s axe.
Not that my mind is always on the scenery.
I keep getting distracted by Justin’s confident handling of the bike.
Watching the flick of his wrist on the twist-grip is also doing funny things to my stomach.
A peek over his shoulder tells me he likes to flirt with the speed limit, but I also sense immense restraint on his part, and I wonder if he’s holding back because of me.
Sometime later, we return to the restaurant parking lot and the bike shudders to a stop next to my car. People are leaving the restaurant and scraps of conversation and laughter drift our way. A light breeze carries the scent of dry grass and the hint of rain.
I climb off the bike and remove my helmet. Justin tugs off his helmet, but stays seated, his eyes flickering over me. “What do you think?”
“I loved it,” I say with a grin. “The sense of freedom, the feeling of danger. It’s addictive.”
He smiles back at me, his eyes darkening. “I suspected you were hiding a wild side.”
We stare at each other for one, two, three heartbeats before I break eye contact and hand him back his jacket. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem.” He starts the bike. “We’ll meet up again Monday.”
I nod, my heart pounding, and watch him accelerate away. Blazing in my mind are his words, I suspected you were hiding a wild side.
It’s what I suspected all along too.