9. Ethan
Ethan
I couldn’t believe Calder was gonna do it.
So far he’d been fairly standoffish during our ‘date’, although he couldn’t keep his eyes off me either.
As much as he tried to play the tough straight act, it wasn’t fooling me.
Clearly he was interested, at least in some small way.
Why would he even agree to meeting up in the first place?
He tried to pretend it was about the animal attacks, but I wasn’t falling for that little bit.
I’d helped enough straight guys ‘experiment’ in college to know the signs.
Still, I didn’t really expect him to say yes to the ride on his bike.
However, as we stepped out of the coffee shop and up to his sleek black sport bike with red accents, I couldn’t help feeling a bit giddy.
The level of detail told me it was a custom job.
Apparently Calder had a bit more expendable income than his rugged exterior implied.
Then again, he owned a car garage. He might’ve gotten the work done for free.
“Here,” Calder said, pulling his backpack open and handing me a second helmet. “You’ll need that.”
“Do you… always pack a second helmet?” I asked, unable to hide the grin curling over my lips. “Or did you know this was gonna happen?”
He grunted. “You never know when a hot chick is gonna want a ride.”
“Well, I’m flattered you think I’m a hot chick,” I shot back, giving him a wink.
He grumbled again. “Nevermind. Give the helmet back.”
“Hell no!” I said, stuffing it on. I slid it into place and flipped the visor open. “You promised me a ride!”
His brows were furrowed and those light brown eyes of his had a mischievous sparkle despite his grumpy attitude. “Are you always this much of a pain in the ass?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just fun to mess with.”
“It’s gonna be a real short ride if you keep this up.”
“Nah, I think you like it.”
Another deep grumble as he stuffed his helmet on and swung his leg over the bike. He turned around, flipping the visor up. “Well? You comin’ or what?”
I nodded, stepping up beside him. My stomach fluttered as I placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat through his leather jacket.
I swung my leg over and settled down behind him, my body pressed tight against his back.
A jolt of electricity shot through me as I felt my junk come to rest against his ass, though I tried not to think about it.
But even through the helmet I could smell that spicy scent that seemed to always cling to him.
It wasn’t like any cologne I’d ever come across and I found myself wondering if maybe it was natural.
“Hold onto me,” Calder said, flipping up the kickstand.
I put my hands on his shoulders. “Okay.”
He paused, glancing back at me through his helmet. Then, shaking his head, he grabbed my hands and placed them around his waist. “Like that,” he said, leaving no room for argument. “I don’t need you falling off.”
My chest fluttered again as my hands came to rest around his waist. Even through the leather I could feel the taut muscles beneath his clothes, the raw power within his body that called to something deep inside me.
My attraction to him was primal and the lust I felt was getting harder and harder to conceal.
I said a quick prayer of thanks to whoever was listening that I decided to wear tighter jeans that day.
If they’d been any looser there would be no concealing how turned on I was about being this close to a hunk of a man like Calder.
The engine roared to life beneath us, the vibration traveling through my body in a way that did nothing to help my current situation. Calder revved the throttle a couple times, the sound cutting through the quiet afternoon air before he eased us out of the parking spot.
"Ready?" he called over his shoulder, his voice slightly muffled by the helmet.
"Born ready," I replied, tightening my grip around his waist.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his back and into my chest. Then we were off, zipping through the streets of Portland with the wind whipping around us.
I couldn't help but press closer as we leaned into the first turn, my thighs squeezing against his hips for stability.
If he noticed or minded, he gave no indication.
The city blurred around us as Calder navigated through traffic with practiced ease.
There was something mesmerizing about the way he handled the machine between his legs, his body moving in perfect harmony with the bike.
I found myself following his movements, leaning when he leaned, straightening when he straightened.
We crossed the Willamette River, the skyline stretched out before us.
Rather than heading back to the coffee shop, he turned north, heading toward the less urban districts.
I wasn’t sure where he was taking me, but I didn’t care.
I was too lost in the sensation of being that close to him to worry about much else.
However, it wasn’t until we came to a stoplight that he turned back to me.
“Looks like it’s gonna rain,” he called over the engine, pointing toward the western sky. Sure enough, dark clouds were rolling in fast. “Let’s swing by the shop and drop this off before we get soaked.”
I nodded, a little disappointed our ride was being cut short, but also intrigued at the prospect of seeing Calder's garage.
The light changed, and we took off again, weaving through the streets with renewed purpose.
The first fat droplets of rain began to hit my helmet as we pulled into an industrial area with several warehouses and repair shops.
Calder slowed the bike, turning into a lot with a large sign that read "Thorne Automotive" in bold red letters against black.
He pulled up to a bay door and hit a button on his keychain.
The door rumbled open, revealing a spacious, immaculately organized garage.
Several cars in various states of repair were lined up inside, and tools hung in perfect order along the walls.
He drove the bike inside and cut the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening after the constant roar. I reluctantly unwrapped my arms from his waist as he kicked down the stand.
"Nice place," I said, pulling off the helmet and running a hand through my flattened hair. "Very... clean."
Calder removed his own helmet, shaking out his dark hair. "A messy garage is an inefficient garage," he replied, placing the helmet on the seat of the bike. “My father always had the place in shambles and it drove me crazy. When I took over I made sure to clean it up and keep it that way.”
“Did your dad retire then?” I asked, pulling off my own helmet.
The moment Calder’s expression fell, I knew I’d made a mistake. I knew that look. It was the same one I saw in the mirror every single day.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” I said before he got a chance to respond.
“No, it’s alright,” he nodded. “He died a couple years ago. Heart attack. It was pretty sudden.”
“My dad’s dead too,” I spouted before I could stop myself.
Calder's eyes met mine, that hard edge softening just a fraction. "Recently?"
"No," I shook my head. "I was fourteen. It was… uh… a car accident." It was a lie, but it was better than telling Calder my father had been murdered by a monster in the middle of the woods and that I’d been haunted by that day ever since. That wasn’t first date material.
"That's rough," Calder said, his voice gentler than I'd heard it before. "At that age..."
The sudden crack of thunder interrupted whatever he was about to say. Rain began hammering against the metal roof of the garage, creating a symphony of pattering sounds that filled the silence between us.
"Guess we got inside just in time," I said, grateful for the distraction.
Calder nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Can I get you something to drink? I keep the office fridge stocked.”
“Sure.”
I followed him across the garage and through a set of doors into the lobby of the shop.
Ducking behind the front desk we went through another door into a short hallway that ended in a large communal space.
There was a full kitchen, a big dining table, and a fridge tucked in the back corner.
It was pretty nice for a car garage and a handful of grease monkeys.
Calder went to the fridge, grabbing a can of soda for each of us.
“So, how many employees do you have?” I asked, trying to strike up a new conversation.
“Just two,” he said, taking a long sip from his can. “Trevor and Patrick. They’re great mechanics, but they like to bitch.” I snorted at that. “But I do all the admin work and when I’m not swamped with that, I fix a few things too.”
“Sounds pretty intimate,” I nodded.
He nodded. “They’ve been my friends for years. We grew up working here together with our fathers and now we’ve taken over. They’re my pa—… my family.”
“That’s kind of adorable,” I smiled, unable to hide my admiration.
Calder scoffed. “It’s work. Someone’s gotta do it and the bills need to get paid.”
“It’s still cute.” Before he could retort, I added, “And it looks like you’ve done a lot of good for this place too. Everything looks nice, most of the tools are new, and all your paperwork up front is super organized.”
Calder stared at me for a long moment, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t miss anything, do you?”
“Investigative journalist,” I said, pointing to myself. “Remember? I notice things about people they don’t even know about themselves. That’s what I do.”
“Right. Sure.”
“Don’t believe me?”
He shrugged, taking another sip. “Not really.”
My pride flared up, filling my chest with heat. Before I could stop myself I’d closed the distance between us, my chest only a couple inches from Calder’s. I looked up at him, daring him to challenge me with my gaze.
“How about the fact that I know you like me?” I asked, poking him in the chest with my forefinger. “You might like to pretend that all you care about are these attacks happening, but I know better. Your tough guy facade won’t work on me.”
His cheeks went red almost instantly, but his gaze never left mine. “Pfft. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do.” I took a step back, grinning from ear to ear. “And as much as you want to pretend this wasn’t a date, I know you liked having my arms around your waist.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his lips working but no sound coming out. Finally he broke his gaze and turned away from me. “Come on,” he grumbled, clearly irritated. “I need to get you back to the coffee shop to get your car.”
He might’ve been annoyed with me, but I felt a sense of satisfaction.
I’d gotten a reaction out of him and that, more than anything, proved to me that I was right.
I followed Calder through the office once more and out through the back of the garage.
Just outside was an old pickup that was dirty, rusted in spots, and clearly had seen better days.
And it was the one Calder was heading for.
“I knew you had a beat up old truck,” I grinned, unable to help myself. “I was right!”
“Yeah, but I have a bike too,” Calder growled, glancing back at me. “And you didn’t know that. Just like there’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.”
I just smiled back, getting close once more just to make him squirm. “Well, I can’t wait to learn more about you then.”