Chapter 4
ISABELLA
The smell of bacon fills my nose as I slowly start to wake up.
My eyes widen and I throw the blankets off me and jump out of bed.
I run out of my room and into the bathroom to start getting ready, ignoring the grease crackling in the kitchen. I’m surprised that Slade is even up or out of his room since I haven’t seen him since I got the keys.
I brush my hair and teeth and put some makeup on so I at least look alive.
Luckily I don’t have to think too much about what I’m going to wear since in the office everyone wears casual, business casual, or business professional. There isn’t really a dress code, as long as you get your work done.
I decided on blue jeans and a black t-shirt that’s so tight it basically sticks to my chest.
By the time I’m done getting ready I have five minutes until I have to leave and get to the office.
“Don’t you usually leave around seven forty-five?” I hear Slade say.
I look up at him and my eyes can’t help but go to his chest. He is shirtless in the kitchen while preparing two plates of breakfast. He has tattoos on his chest. One is of a statue wrapped in a red rose vine with thorns on it.
That tattoo catches my eyes because he always seems like a statue, wrapped in barbed wire instead of a rose vine.
I notice one on his collarbone that says something but it’s in another language.
Maybe Russian?
I wonder if he’s Russian.
He looks like he is, with the sharp jaw and hooded eyes.
The way he stares at me feels so familiar, like I’ve seen his eyes or that scar before.
“Isabella?” My name rolls off his tongue sensually with his hint of an accent.
My eyes meet his. “Sorry. Yea, I’m running late. If I don’t leave now, I’ll have to run to work.”
“Sit. I can take you to work if you’d like. I made breakfast.”
Hesitantly, I sit. “Thank you.”
He watches me for a few minutes as I gulp down my food before he leaves, probably to put clothes on. By the time I’m finished, he comes out of his room with a motorcycle helmet. I furrow my eyebrows.
“Woah, I’m not getting on any type of motorcycle.”
Slade’s lips twitch as if he’s going to smile or laugh at me. “Relax. It’s safe. Plus you’ll get to work in less than five minutes.”
We leave the apartment and go down to the garage level.
I’ve never been on a motorcycle before so my nerves are going through the roof and my heart can’t stop pounding.
We walk up to a black sports bike that has some carbon fiber touches on it. When he turns the bike on, I feel my insides flip.
“As long as you hold onto me, you should be fine.” Slade comes up to me, the helmet in his hands. “Who knows maybe you’ll end up enjoying it and begging me to take you on another ride.” He smirks, like he’s suggesting something else.
He puts the helmet over my head and straps it tightly on me. “I’ve only talked to you twice and now you’re making me go on a motorcycle with you?”
“I’m not making you do anything, avtor.”
“Av-huh?” I furrow my eyebrows at him.
Slade chuckles lightly. “Means author in Russian.”
“So you are Russian?” I raise an eyebrow at him, even though he probably can’t see.
He tightens the strap before letting me go. “How'd you know?”
“The tattoo on your collarbone is in Russian. I connected the dots.”
“Does that mean you were checking me out this morning?” Slade raises an eyebrow at me, a soft smirk appearing on his lips.
He can’t see the way my cheeks heat up, thank god.
“I can’t admire your tattoos?”
Slade smiles for a second before he covers his face with the helmet, leaving the visor up. “Admire me all you want, Isabella. I won’t lie and say I haven’t been doing the same thing since you walked into my apartment last week.”
He looks at me and deja vu hits me again but ten times harder.
How do I know him?
“You’ve never ridden a bike before, right?”
I shake my head.
“Okay well it’s pretty simple. You move with me. It’ll only be a short ride so I’m not even going to bother telling you everything.” He swings his legs over the bike, closes the visor and holds his hand out for me.
“If I die, I'm going to haunt you.”
“I wouldn’t mind, trust me,” he says, his voice muffled from the helmet. I place my hand in his and he pulls me closer to him. “Hold onto my hand or shoulder and pull yourself up. Put your foot here and your other one in the same place on the other side of the bike.”
When I put my foot on the little pedal, I push myself up and hold onto him tightly. I swing my leg over the bike and then sit down.
The bike rumbles loudly underneath me and it sends a sensation to my core, especially when Slade lightly touches my thigh. “Remember to move with me. I won’t be able to hear you while I’m riding so if you need something tap my shoulder.”
I nod against him.
He closes my visor for me and turns around, putting his hands on the gears. “Hold tight.”
The bike moves, making me squeeze his abdomen. I yelp as he takes off and speeds towards the exit of the garage.
When we come out of the garage, he looks left and right before heading onto the street. He moves swiftly in between cars, and I feel like I’m about to shit myself.
I keep mumbling to myself, telling him to be careful even though he’s probably done this a bunch of times and I’m over here freaking out and distracting him.
I rest my head on his back and try to relax as he races through the busy streets of New York.
The drive really isn’t that long.
He starts to slow the bike down and I see my office building come into view. When we come to a full stop, my heart slows down and I thank God for getting me here safely.
Slade kicks the stand down and holds his hand out for me.
I take it and get off the bike, stumbling a little when my feet touch the ground. He grabs onto my waist to steady me, his hand sending sparks through my entire body.
“Come here,” he says, motioning me to come closer to him.
I approach with hesitant steps. He unbuckles the strap and pulls off the helmet making my hair go all over the place. Slade opens his visor and watches me fix my hair. His intense eyes cause goosebumps to erupt on my skin.
“Thank you,” I say with a small smile. He nods and now I don’t know what to say or do. I should say more, but I’m close to being late for work. Slade keeps staring at me, almost like he is mesmerized. “I should get going before I’m extra late.”
“Right.” He breaks eye contact and looks at his bike. “I’ll see you later.”
“Will you? You’re never at the apartment.” I don’t know why I said that or made it such a big deal when it shouldn’t be.
We aren’t even friends.
He can do whatever he wants.
“Why, you’re expecting me?” He raises an eyebrow.
I blush and smile softly. “I’ll see you later, Slade.”
He pulls his visor down, starts his bike and gives me one last look before pulling onto the street, his bike echoing so that all of New York can hear him.
And when I enter the office building, I realize I never gave him the address of where I work.