Chapter 11
Eleven
With his arm around me, Dax walks me into a store rich in the scents of dust, oil, and leather. The sensations assault my nose and scratch my throat.
Old antique-style tin signs hang from the ceiling, advertising motorcycle brands, gas stations, and cigarette companies. Overall, the merchandising is haphazard, with clothing, engine oil, valves, fittings, boots, and tools intermingling.
“Malone, how ya doin’?” says a man in his mid-thirties. He has a scraggly beard, his hair tied into a top-knot, and wears a sleeveless denim jacket over a gray tank top and heavy chain necklaces. He leaves the front desk with heavy boots, and the same thick commando-style trousers Dax wears.
“Hey man,” Dax says, grabbing the man’s hand in a friendly greeting. “Just looking for a helmet.”
The man laughs as they unlatch their hands. “You crack yours again?”
Dax throws a thumb over his shoulder in my direction. “No. I need something for the lady.”
The man peers over at me, and a sly whistle draws out of him. “Who’s this? Sure she’s not lost?”
Dax laughs off the comment. “Just show me a helmet that’ll fit her.”
The man turns and walks toward an array of helmets. Dax beckons me to follow, but my feet don’t budge.
Dax gives me a sympathetic smile and steps closer to me. “Pay no attention to Hugo. He’s just never seen a pretty girl before.”
I look around at the disarranged shelves and the particular style everyone dresses in. The sight of cobwebs hanging from the cornices, light shades, and shelves, makes me feel dirty.
I shake my head, muttering, “I don’t belong here.”
Dax clutches my hand and gives it a gentle tug. “All we’re doing is getting some gear, and then we’re out. We’re not staying.”
I give him an uneasy look. “It won’t take long?”
Dax smiles and swoops in to kiss my cheek. “No. I promise.”
I squeeze Dax’s hand, signaling I’m ready to move forward. I walk with him toward Hugo, who’s holding a helmet in each hand.
“This one’s an RTX,” Hugo tells Dax, motioning with the black helmet in his right hand. “And this one’s an Aria. Not as good a brand, but a smaller fit. So it might not bob around as much.”
Dax inspects the helmets for himself. From the bottom, he stretches them out, feeling for how easily they bounce back. He then presses inside, inspecting the padding, before knocking on the hard outer shell.
“Okay, try this one,” he says, holding out the Aria helmet to me.
“You don’t look impressed,” I say, taking the open-faced white helmet.
He holds up the black full-face RTX helmet. “You’ll try this one next.”
I pull on the white helmet, and it’s almost too snug. It pops on, molding around my ears and down the back of my head.
Dax places his hands on the sides of the helmet, trying to jostle it. “How does it feel?”
“Snug.”
Dax gives a half-impressed nod as he slides down the opaque visor sitting atop the helmet. “Not bad for a scooter helmet.”
“It feels good,” I say. “Do you still want me to try the other helmet?”
He nods, picking up the RTX helmet he left on a shelf. “Yeah. It’s a better helmet. I just think it’ll be too big.”
It’s an effort to pull off the white helmet, and my hair rises with it. Dax laughs and smooths the shaggy mess down for me. We exchange helmets, and I happily pull on the black full-face helmet to hide my hair.
The helmet slips over my head much easier than the white helmet. Similar to how Dax’s helmet felt last night. Dax grabs the piece that covers my mouth and chin, yanking it and swiveling it, left to right.
“Hey!” I squeak.
Dax laughs. “Sorry. Yeah, I thought this one would be no good.”
“It’s the smallest size I have in RTX,” Hugo comments.
Dax pats the top of the helmet. “Guess we’re going with the Aria then.”
I pull off the helmet and, when Dax takes it from me, I hurriedly fix my hair back in place.
Hugo places the black helmet back on the shelf and takes the white helmet to the front desk.
Dax slides a hand across the side of my face and into my hair. “Don’t worry, Sassy. You’re still looking good.”
I blush hard. “Thanks.”
“Dax?” a female voice calls out from the back of the store.
Dax turns, finding the person belonging to the voice.
“Hey,” says a tall, pretty girl with long jet-black hair, overlined eyes, and dark maroon lips. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
She notices me, giving me a once-over while I do the same to her. Her sheer black T-shirt is torn, her leather pants are skin-tight, and her boots have a tall, chunky heel.
Dax shrugs. “I haven’t needed anything new in a while.”
The girl’s eyebrow arches, and she nudges her shoulder my way. “Looks like you’re into something new at the moment.”
Dax motions to me. “This is Sasha.” He gives me a smile and then introduces the girl. “Sasha, this is Stella.”
I hold the confusion from my expression, and instead, give Stella a friendly smile.
“Hi,” Stella says with a wave. “New to town?”
The sarcasm lies thick on her tongue, so my mouth stays tight as I respond. “I live close enough.”
She chews her fingernail, and her eyes move from me to Dax. “Snob Falls, huh?”
I sigh hard. “Does everyone around here call it that?”
Stella sniggers. “Just a little inside joke between me and Dax.”
My skin crawls. Inside joke? Just how close are these two?
Dax turns away, joining Hugo at the front desk. “We’ll just grab the helmet and go.”
I follow him to the desk as he slides cash across to Hugo. He scoops up the white helmet and stashes it under his arm. He holds out his other arm, welcoming me in.
Giddiness bubbles inside me, and with a faint squeal I return to my rightful place, under his arm. As we leave the store, I feel two overlined eyes burning holes into my back.
Walking back to his motorcycle, I can’t help the pettiness raging through me. “So, how do you know that girl?”
“Who, Stella?” Dax asks, pulling his key from his pocket and inserting into the ignition barrel.
“Yeah. Her.”
Dax shrugs. “We grew up together. You know how it is. She’s just a person in my life.”
“A person?” I hate this green-eyed version of myself. “Not an ex-girlfriend?”
Dax laughs, sitting my helmet on the bike’s seat. “I was as close to dating Stella as you were to dating LJ.”
“Oh,” I say, relieved. “And, why did you introduce me with the wrong name?”
Dax sighs, looking off to the side. “Remember how I told you it wouldn’t be safe if anyone at the clubhouse found out you were an Ashworth?”
I shiver with icy fear. “Those two were dangerous?”
Dax meets my eyes and shakes his head. “No, they’re cool. Just, some of the guys go into that store, and Hugo goes into the clubhouse for beers. I didn’t want to risk anyone talking about you.”
My chest deflates. “Oh, okay.”
“Plus, Stella follows a lot of you rich girls on social media.”
I snigger. “Really? She seemed like she was dissing me.”
Dax shrugs. “She got a little obsessed when a girl she knew moved to Victoria Falls after her mom married some rich guy.”
“Oh. So, Stella keeps you in the loop with what she’s up to?”
Dax crooks a finger under my chin, lifting my face. “Are you jealous, Sassy?”
“I… I…”
Dax runs a hand down my back, and whispers, “I don’t know if I’ve made this clear, but I’m not interested in any other girls.”
A shiver runs down my spine. The good kind. “I’ve never felt about someone how I feel about you.”
Dax smiles, keeping a hold of my chin. He leans in, giving me a perfectly soft kiss. I lift onto the balls of my feet and kiss him back, letting a moan escape.
I mumble a nervous laugh and cup a hand over my face. “Is it crazy to feel like this when we’ve just met?”
Dax traces my jawline and then scoops his hand into my hair. His lips press onto my forehead, and the gentle touch spreads tingles across my head. I smile at my reflection in his stormy gray eyes, completely relaxed in his presence.
“Do you still want to go to the gala with me?” I murmur, bracing for a no.
He rubs the back of his neck. “You still want me to go?”
I run my hand down his T-shirt front, biting my lip. “I’d love you to.”
“Then, yes. Absolutely.”
“I have a meeting this evening with the society ladies to discuss planning details,” I say. “Would you be interested in going for a tux fitting tomorrow?”
His eyebrow cocks. “A fitting?”
I nod, grinning. “You’d look so dashing in the right fit.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “This is a necessity for the gala?”
“Yes, it’s a strict dress code.”
“Okay, but if I have to get fitted for a monkey suit, you have to do something too.”
“What’s that?”
“When we go for a fitting, you need to dress basic. Jeans and a tee.”
I puff out a laugh. “No way. The tailor is part of the strip mall. People I know will see me.”
Dax folds his arms, and a smug smile tugs at his lips. “So?”
I smooth down my tweed blazer. “I’ve already tried dressing down.”
Dax laughs, letting his arms fall to his sides. “Everything about you looks expensive.” He gestures toward the motorcycle store. “You stood out like a sore thumb. A very pretty thumb, but still.”
“Basic isn’t really something I’m allowed to have in my wardrobe.”
“Maybe you’ll have to find it at the mall?”
I click my tongue, fighting off my smile. This boy is too darn irresistible. “Okay. I’ll find something.”
Dax stifles a laugh. “No matter how you dress, I bet you’d never blend in where I’m from. And that would be a good thing.”
I flick my index finger over my eyelashes. “Maybe I would if I wore some heavy eyeliner.”
Dax twists his lips. “Hmm. Not your style.”
“Neither are jeans and a tee.”
“Nope. You’ll look super cute.” He caresses my cheek. “Your big brown eyes are just too pretty to be ruined by thick black lines.”
I blush under his gaze. “Oh. Well, thanks.”
He plants a soft kiss on my lips. “You’re welcome.”
“I think you’ll look ridiculously handsome in a tux.”
Dax laughs. “I dunno. Sounds like a bit of a stretch.”
I grab onto the front of his leather jacket and lean into him. “Guess I’ll have to wait and see tomorrow.”
“I guess so.” He wraps his arms around me. “So, you want to go riding again?”
I nod eagerly. “Take me somewhere where it’s just us.”
We both slip on our helmets, and I climb onto the bike behind Dax.
“Ready, Sassy?” Dax calls over the rev of the engine.
I hug my arms around his middle. “Ready, broody.”
Dax laughs at my pet name attempt, pulling the motorcycle off the curb. It doesn’t take long for us to gain speed, and I plant my helmet against his leather-covered shoulder blade. Soon we’re out of the town center, and headed toward Mountains Road.
As the township disappears, and the motorcycle opens up, my body stays relaxed.
Something I couldn’t experience during my massage earlier.
An uncontainable smile brightens my helmet-framed face.
I can’t imagine any scenario where being with Dax will cause me undue stress.
Being at home with my absent-minded father, bickering with my moody brother, or video chatting with my control-freak mother, are all confirmed ways I’ll rip out every strand of hair on my head.
Being with Dax is the closest to peace I’ve ever felt.