26. Grey
Chapter 26
Grey
A fter we wrap for the day the following Wednesday, I bound up the steps to Aspen’s trailer and knock on her door. I’ve got something fun planned for our weekly date, and I hope it will be able to cheer Aspen up a little.
“One second,” she calls. I hear a few thumps before the lock turns and the door swings open. “I was changing,” she says. “What’s up?”
“Ready for our weekly date?”
“I thought we were doing that Thursday.”
“Do you have plans tonight?”
“Well, no, but?—”
“Then let’s do it now. People might catch on if they only ever see us out on Thursdays and the occasional Friday.”
I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, trying to come up with some kind of retort.
“Please?” I add.
She sighs. “What do you have in mind?”
A grin spreads across my face. “A sunset ride up the PCH.”
She raises an eyebrow. “That’s it? I was assuming you’d have some horrible plans for us after last week’s shopping trip.”
“The shopping wasn’t so bad—I needed a new bondage suit anyway. But, full transparency, we’re taking my Harley.” I rush out the last part of the sentence, as though it’ll stop her from taking notice.
Her mouth forms an O. “A motorcycle? No way, those things are so dangerous. Have you ever seen that ‘human crayon’ video? No way, Grey, I’m serious.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that. So I bought you this,” I say, reaching into the bag slung over my shoulder and pulling out a full-body leather riding suit. “And there’s a helmet for you back in my trailer.”
Aspen opens her mouth to retort and a meow comes out. Then she turns and walks into the trailer.
I feel my eyes open in shock. “Did you just fucking meow ?”
She returns to the doorway, clearly very offended. “No, I didn’t meow, Grey.”
Then I see the brown tabby cat in her arms. “Why do you have a cat in your trailer?”
“It’s not just any cat, it's my cat, Meeko. I brought her with me for the day.” She sees the dubious expression on my face, then adds, “I don’t know, okay? It’s a change of pace. And I didn’t know you had some death-trip date planned after work.”
The cat turns its amber gaze directly on me. “That thing is creepy.”
“She’s not creepy, she just doesn’t like you.”
“Either way, I’m assuming she can stay here for a few hours while we ride? I’d drop you off back here anyway, since you’d need to get your car.”
“She has her whole setup, yeah. But do we really have to go on a motorcycle? Can’t we do something else?”
“Do you really want to risk my plan B?”
“Not really.”
I reach out and smugly pet the cat in her arms. The cat juts out her chin for me to scratch and closes her eyes purring when I oblige. “Change and meet me in my trailer in five,” I say, handing Aspen the leather suit.
I turn to leave, and just before Aspen’s trailer door closes behind me, I hear her whisper, “Traitor,” to her cat.
Promptly five minutes later Aspen’s at my trailer, where I’m sitting on the steps waiting for her in jeans and a leather jacket, two helmets set on the asphalt next to me.
“Did you seriously add a Gucci belt to that?” I ask her.
“It was loose in the waist and I’m assuming we’re going to be photographed, so yes, I dressed it up a bit.”
“And you just happened to have a Gucci belt in your trailer?”
“Would it be better if I had a twenty-dollar belt in my trailer?”
I think for a second. “Nope, still weird.”
“I was born into Hollywood and my sister is a supermodel—I wouldn’t be caught dead without basic accessories,” she says, dead serious.
I resist the urge to laugh and rise to my full height before handing her the smaller of the two sleek black helmets. “Let’s hit the road then.”
“I hope you know that I get to pick our next date, and I’m going to pick something truly horrid for us to do. That is, if I’m still alive after this.”
“Do you seriously have such little trust in me?”
“Yes,” she answers without hesitation.
I have to admit, I’m a little wounded.
“At least hold your judgment until after the ride’s finished. I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy it more than you think. Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?” I ask as we enter the parking lot and begin walking down the row where my bike is parked.
“Never.”
“Then I’ll go slow for you, babe.”
“Shut up.”
I chuckle as we approach my bike, one of my most prized possessions. It was my first big purchase after I got my inaugural Hollywood paycheck. The seat, handlebars, and accents are a rich matte, jet-black color which is offset by the open sides of the bike, which reveal the lustrous silver gleam of the engine and tail pipes. The bike is sleek, powerful, and just as gorgeous as the day I bought it. I turn to Aspen and help her put on her helmet, making sure it’s properly fastened. Then I do the same and speak into it.
“You ready?” I ask through the helmets’ hidden, built-in microphone.
“Whoa,” Aspen responds as she hears my voice crackling through her helmet’s speaker. “These are high-tech.”
“Only the best for you, Jordan.”
I take my seat on the bike and motion for Aspen to get on behind me. As she gets on with as much hesitation as if she were mounting a dragon, I’m hit with a wave of the bright, citrusy scent I’ve come to associate with her.
“Relax,” I say, as I start the engine and the bike roars to life beneath us. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I don’t think it’s up to you,” Aspen replies.
“You’re forgetting I’m James Bond—I can do anything.”
“What a coincidence, I was just getting the strong urge to punch James Bond.”
“Hold on tight, spider monkey,” I say, ignoring her threat as I slowly pull out of the parking spot. Aspen squeals in surprise at the bike’s motion and wraps her arms around my waist with an iron grip.
“Was that a Twilight reference?” Aspen asks incredulously.
“My sister-in-law had it on one night while I was over.”
“Mm-hmm,” she replies. “And you just so happened to remember a word-for-word quote.”
“Don’t you think I wish I could forget it?”
Her arms tighten around me like a vice as we turn out onto a main road. I can sense Aspen’s head turning side-to-side rapidly as we drive through traffic, staring at the cars around us as though they’re out to get her.
“When did trucks get so big?” she asks.
“They all went through a growth spurt yesterday; didn’t you hear? It was all over the news.”
“Ha-ha,” she deadpans, her grip still deathly tight around my midsection.
“Can you loosen your grip just a tiny bit?” I ask. “I can hardly breathe here.”
“Good,” she replies, squeezing even tighter just to annoy me before loosening her grip. “You knew I’d hate this, you should have also predicted I’d be scared to death and clinging onto you for dear life the entire time.”
I take a left turn and Aspen squeals, clutching me tightly again. “Grey!” she screams, as though we just crashed.
“What?”
“Don’t turn like that!”
“You just want me to go straight the whole time?”
“That would be nice, yeah.”
“Well, that’s impossible. And I’m only going thirty-five miles per hour on a forty-five speed limit road. If I went any slower, it would honestly be dangerous.”
“Go on a slower road then.”
“You want me to drive through Hidden Hills, or something?”
“Yes! Take me home!”
I scoff. “You don’t seriously live in Hidden Hills, do you?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s such a celebrity cliché.”
“And where do you live? In some cool, nonconformist condo building that looks nondescript from the outside but actually costs a fortune to live in?”
“No. It doesn’t look all that nondescript.”
She chuckles. “I knew it. Now, be careful, seriously.”
“Jordan, you’re ridiculous. Just relax, I’m going as carefully as I can, okay? Precious cargo and all.”
“I don’t know why you would take me on this ride when you knew I would hate it. It’s terrifying.”
“It’s exhilarating,” I reply. “And I never thought you’d hate it. I thought you’d be scared at first, like you are, but warm up to it soon enough, which I still think you will.”
“We’ll see about that,” she grumbles.