Chapter Eleven
S hortly after the drive home from Cookeville, Austin left for his parents’ house in Clearwater, Florida. With his tour over and Thanksgiving a week away, it was a good time for him to relax on the beach. Christine was happy to see him take the time.
She fell back into a routine of going to the office, listening to songs, contacting people who might record those songs, and having quiet evenings at home.
Occasionally, she’d grab a bite to eat or watch a movie with Julianna.
Austin called and begged her to visit. Christine missed him, but there was no way she would go.
She didn’t mind the break from her cyber haters.
What she really missed was the chance of seeing Matt.
She was tempted to text him and see if he wanted to grab a cup of coffee since coffee was safe and didn’t automatically mean a date.
The temptation was so strong she had written out the text a number of times before deleting it.
“Respect Cait,” she reminded herself. “She has first claim.”
A WARM SPELL HIT NASHVILLE the Friday before Thanksgiving; the forecast said it would be sunny and seventy-five. It would probably be the last time until spring. Christine decided kebabs on the grill sounded like a perfect—and safe—evening.
She parked at Publix, opened her car door, hit the lock, and accidentally dropped her purse on the ground.
She was bending down to pick up the contents when her elbow hit the door and it closed.
“No!” She looked inside at her keys, which were still in the ignition. “This ruins a beautiful day,” she said.
She had just pulled up the Uber app to get a ride home and grab her spare keys when she heard a motorcycle pulling up close to her.
She loved motorcycles. There was something slightly dangerous and exciting about them.
This guy, however, was getting way too close.
He stopped beside her and she sensed a familiarity.
When he took off his helmet and shook out his hair, her heart stopped.
Matt rode a motorcycle? How did she not know this?
“Hey, Christine. Everything okay?”
“No. I locked my keys in the car. I didn’t know you rode a motorcycle.”
“Yeah. I rarely have time to, but today was so beautiful I couldn’t resist. No spare key?”
“I have one back at my apartment. Big help, huh?”
“Here.” He reached behind his back and grabbed a helmet. “Put this on and I’ll take you there.” He took her purse and stuffed it into the back compartment.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she said while thinking about how awesome it would be to slide behind him and hold on.
“You didn’t. I offered. And you’re already wearing a black leather jacket. It’s like you were expecting me.”
She put the helmet on and climbed behind him. It was a tight fit and she tried not to focus on how close her entire body was to his. But it was impossible. He was right there, nestled between her legs.
“Hold on tight.”
She wrapped her arms around him and inhaled, breathing his scent into her lungs. She was worried she might rest her head on his back and drift into la-la land. Or worse, nibble his neck. She restrained herself.
“Do you want to go straight to your house or ride around for a bit?”
“Even need to ask? Ride around.” And hang on to you the whole way , she thought.
“Done.” He took off.
Between the bike’s vibrations, having her body pressed against Matt’s, and his musky smell mixed with the smell of leather, Christine was overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her body.
A warm whirlpool of emotion circled through her stomach.
Matt didn’t seem to have a goal in mind—he just drove.
He passed the expensive homes in the town of Franklin, and Christine looked at them with longing.
She’d never been a pretentious person, but working in an industry with so much wealth made it difficult not to dream.
Matt handled the bike with expertise, even when the road started winding. His sexy factor went up three notches.
He circled back an hour later and took Christine to her apartment. She was pleasantly surprised that he remembered where she lived since he’d only been there once, when the limo dropped her off.
“Do you want to come up and get water or tea?” she asked.
“Sure.”
He followed her to her apartment and stopped cold when she shrieked.
“What is it?”
She pointed to the note on her door. “With Austin gone, my stalker has been leaving me alone. This was unexpected.”
“What’s it say?”
Christine grabbed the note and read, “‘Glad to see you’re not following him to Florida. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t.’”
Matt followed her into the apartment.
“How many of these have you gotten?”
“I lost track. Six? Seven?”
“Geez, Christine. This is nothing to mess around with.” Matt walked through the apartment, looking in the closets, under the bed, and in the bathroom. Christine heard him move the shower curtain aside. Her heart fluttered at his protecting her. He cared. Matt came back out to the living room.
“All clear. Are you doing anything to protect yourself?”
“I put more locks on my door, and I’ve made the police aware of it. But unfortunately, there’s nothing anyone can do until the stalker makes a move.”
“I can’t believe you’re going through this.” He leaned against the counter, and she wanted to lean into him. She didn’t.
“It’s absolutely surreal. But let’s not ruin this beautiful day by talking about it. Okay?”
“Okay. You have a nice place.”
“Thanks. It’s the perfect size for me. And I like the view.” Christine grabbed two bottles of water and handed him one.
He walked out onto her deck. “A grill. Use it much?”
“I was going to pick up something to throw on it tonight. Want to join me? I do owe you.” She’d blurted the words before giving them a second thought. Now, she held her breath waiting for his answer.
He glanced at his watch, and she knew right then that he had plans. Probably with Cait. “I’d love to, but I can’t tonight.”
“Rain check?” she said. It was becoming a curse word to her. He probably didn’t even remember saying it before.
“We’re racking those up, aren’t we?”
Christine grabbed her spare car keys, and after finishing their drinks, they got back on the bike.
The red lights she had hated hitting every morning came as a blessing because they gave her a few more minutes with Matt.
At the second stoplight, he dropped his right hand to her calf and gave it a squeeze.
The gesture was sensual, and Christine felt it shoot from her calf to her thigh and higher.
They arrived at Publix ten minutes later, and Christine reluctantly released her grasp on him. She took off the helmet and yelped as the clasp got stuck in her hair. She tried to free it but ended up tangling it worse.
“Hold on. Let me help you before you rip it out,” Matt said, taking off his own helmet.
Christine’s body tingled from having him so close to her. He gently freed her hair. “You have beautiful hair.”
She felt the tears coming and turned away. “Thank you.” Her voice was a whisper. Had he really said those words? The unruly hair that had given her nicknames like Sasquatch was something Matt saw as beautiful.
“Let me get your purse.” He reached into the back compartment while Christine composed herself. She hit the button on her key fob and the car door unlocked. She retrieved her keys and jangled them in the air.
“Success.”
“Christine . . .”
She didn’t know what he was going to say and wasn’t sure she wanted to. On the one hand, he might say something like, “If things were different and I wasn’t already seeing Cait . . .”
On the other, he might say, “I get the feeling you have a bit of a crush on me, and as flattered as I am, you need to know I don’t feel the same way.” She didn’t want to risk hearing either, so she interrupted him.
“Thanks for being my knight in shining armor. I’ll see you soon?”
“You’re welcome. And I hope so.”
Christine turned away and started walking toward the store while she could still hold her head high. She turned back and caught him watching her.
CHRISTINE HAD A WONDERFUL Thanksgiving with her parents before returning to Nashville for the short time before Christmas break. Her mother was savvy enough on social media to know what was going on, but Christine downplayed it, knowing it would accomplish nothing other than worrying her.
Christine kept up with Matt’s Thanksgiving activities on socials.
He’d posted a few photos with family. She learned something about his personal life through photos of his parents cooking a turkey, his niece and nephew climbing on his lap, and his family playing flag football.
The way he posed for photos by embracing his younger relatives made her think he liked kids.
She tucked that morsel into the back of her heart.
And he was apparently an avid fly fisherman.
A photo of him wearing waders in a stream with the caption “Doesn’t get any better” surprised her.
She realized she didn’t know much about him personally.
She also knew he’d returned to Nashville thanks to his post of a sunset taken from a plane. He wrote, “Heading home.”
She hoped to run into him. She made sure she had makeup on and looked her best every time she went anywhere—the mall, Target, Starbucks, or Publix.
No more sweats and oversized shirts. She calculated the odds to figure out where he might be, knowing exactly how ridiculous that seemed.
Two weeks later, she still hadn’t seen him.
She confessed to Julianna one night while chatting on the phone. “I want to run into him so badly, but it isn’t happening. It’s a small town. How hard can it be?”
“Call him and say you want to get together for coffee.”
“And what would be my reason?”
“To wish him a Merry Christmas? Duh. It’s coffee. You’re not asking him to get naked.”
“Is that an option?”