30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
Beau Drewitt
“Can you just grab a small, medium, and a large for her? Thanks.”
By the time I finally push through the back door of the shop, the city has long since settled into its night rhythm.
The bell over the front door is still the same, loud and annoying.
My shelves are dark silhouettes, and the faint thrum of bass from the basement speakeasy vibrates through the floorboards.
Subtlety has never been Kai’s strongest quality.
I told him I’d be back soon. Meaning, maybe forty-five minutes, at most. I know full well it’s been nearly two hours.
I pull the zipper of my leather jacket higher as though that could erase the evidence of my actions, run a hand through my hair, and descend the narrow staircase to the speakeasy.
The familiar scent hits me immediately: Jack Daniel’s whiskey, mildew on wood, and the tang of leather from the seats.
Kai is behind the bar, drying glasses like he’s been waiting all night for me, though his posture is maddeningly casual.
He doesn’t even look up as I cross the room.
“Took you long enough. Imani stopped by.” He chirps as his eyes change to a more suspicious look.
I slide onto a stool, trying not to look as restless as I feel. “Oh yeah? It was just bad traffic. Lane splitting is illegal here, you know.”
That earns me a glance. One dark brow arches slowly, and then he goes right back to stacking glasses. “Traffic,” he repeats, drawing the word out like he’s tasting it. “In this city. At nearly midnight? Really? And since when do you care about the law? Especially when riding your bike.”
I almost smile. Almost. “Terrible, isn’t it? I’ll be filing a complaint with the city council.”
Kai finally looks at me fully now, his expression infuriatingly unreadable.
The corners of his mouth twitch like he’s suppressing a laugh, or maybe biting back a dozen questions.
But he doesn’t ask. He just sets another glass right-side up on the bar and pours me a drink without being told. Good boy.
“Mhm, right.” he hums, handing it over. “Funny thing about traffic. Sometimes it looks less like cars and more like—well, better not.”
I take a slow sip, masking the way my chest tightens. “Is your imagination running wild?”
“Considering I know what you are up to before you do. And the fact that you knew what I was insinuating, I think we’ve come to a middle ground. Except for the fact that you already agreed what you were up to was wrong.” Kai leans on the counter.
I stammer, “I think you’re just trying to bullshit a story now. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He leans on the counter, eyes gleaming with the kind of amusement that makes me want to both roll mine and throw something at him. “Am I?” His eyes now fire with a little bit of aggravation, which comes as a surprise with his usual demeanor.
I don’t answer. Because if I open my mouth, I might just say what I witnessed.
I might just admit that I committed a terribly heinous act derived from my own sadistic pleasure.
I can’t crack under his pressure. He’s too perceptive during all the wrong times.
For now, he lets it go. I think he knows exactly what I was doing.
Or, maybe he’s pulling the pressure off himself because he did something tonight. I’ll let him keep his thoughts for now.
The hours slide by in the glow of low lamps and murmured conversation.
Patrons drift in and out, laughter curling through the room.
I lose myself in the rhythm of tending bottles, in listening without really hearing, in pretending I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
It’s not until the crowd thins that my phone buzzes against my pocket.
A text. From her.
From: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
Sorry. I fell asleep…
I stare at the screen longer than I should, the lie so obvious it’s almost tender.
I can see her now, biting her lip as she types it, hoping her nonchalant behavior will work.
My thumb moves before I can stop it. Little does she know that I’m aware of her fib.
If there truly was a nap taken, it only came after touching herself to the thought of me.
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
I’m surprised your hands aren’t too tired to type after all that work you put in earlier.
No.
Backspace.
Backspace.
D e l e t e.
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
Can you guarantee I’ll see you the day after tomorrow?
The reply comes quick like a brief flash of lightning.
From: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
Just to hear my notes on the book? Sureeee.
She follows up with a winky face. Oh, so all it took was an orgasm and she’s all in? I can only imagine how much more proactive she’ll be when it’s my hands undoing her.
I nearly laugh, nearly. She’s playing coy, and I should let her.
I should be grateful she answers at all.
But her words drag at something inside me, sharp and insistent.
Because it isn’t the book I want her for and she knows that.
It never has been. It’s taking every sheer ounce of my will power not to ride back to her house and feast on her.
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
I can neither confirm nor deny.
Across the bar, Kai clears his throat deliberately. My screen vanishes face-down on the wood. “Traffic again?” he says, too casual.
I tip back my glass, ignoring the smug curl of his smile. “None of your business, jackass.”
Yes. Traffic that desperately needs a lesson.
My composure is already betraying me. Because I know I’ll be counting the hours until the day after tomorrow, and nothing Kai says will make the wait any easier. Unless?
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
How do you feel about motorcycles?
From: Elowen Briar (Damsel In Distress):
I've never been on one. My grandfather had several, but I was always too scared to ride with him. Why? Are you trying to gauge whether or not I'll freak because you have one?
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
Elowen Briar, would you like to take a midnight ride?
From: Elowen Briar (Damsel In Distress):
You know what… I‘ll be there in 30.
I was going to suggest that I pick her up, but that works too.
By the time Elowen pulls into the parking lot, I’m already waiting for her. Helmets ready to go. Does she need to know that I just had one of the drivers for the charter service grab a S, M, and L before she arrived? No. My best guess, she’s a medium. If I’m wrong… I won’t be.
I walk up to her car and open the door for her. “Glad to see you dressed warm. If it gets too cold, we can head back. I figured we could drive to the other side of the lake and back?”
“Uh, thanks.” Elowen, from what I can tell under the tall lights, blushes and then shuts the car door behind herself.
“It is getting cold out quick. Are you sure this is good enough?” Winter is right around the corner.
This may be my only opportunity to invite her for a ride before it gets too cold to ask her to join me.
Perfect, just like you. “It’s perfect.” I smile and hand her the helmet.
She lifts her chin and begins to slide the helmet down over her head.
She meddles with the straps on the bottom before I intervene.
“May I?” Elowen releases the strap to invite my help.
I tilt her chin up so I can use some of the light from the lamp post. As my fingers graze her neck ever so slightly, she swallows quickly.
Fuck. The straps tighten and I can fasten them correctly, finally.
You would think this is the first time I’ve seen a helmet. It’s different helping someone else.
“Too tight? Too loose? Just right?” I ask as our eyes make contact. There’s a blip of silence and in that the rest of the world disappears around me. Her eyes have caught me in their orbit and nothing in this universe could make me want to break it.
Elowen responds in a breathy tone. “I think it’s good right there.
” I blink and glance down before picking my helmet back up off the bike and sliding it on.
What the fuck was that? I toss my leg over and stand the bike up to start it.
The engine revs and I turn to Elowen before cocking my head to motion her on.
“Use the pegs.” I announce loudly before nodding down to my left.
I offer her either my shoulder or hand for support.
In one fell swoop, her body is resting behind me.
The heat radiating off her is the first thing I notice.
Then, the sweet scent of her blood again.
No, stop. She adjusts herself before wrapping her hoodie covered arms around my abdomen. “You ready?”
”Nope, but YOLO.” She chokes back a laugh. YOLO. It’s definitely an acronym. I’ll file that under things to research later.
The ride is perfectly quiet besides the usual outside noise the whole time.
Her heart rate picking up when I shift gears clues me in enough that I use my left hand to pat her arm gently to soothe her.
She subconsciously squeezed me the first time, but realized her action quickly and didn’t do it again. I didn’t mind, but I won’t push her.
“This is fun!” Elowen yells through her muffled helmet. I laugh to myself as I remember that this newfound feeling has taken over thirty minutes to come to fruition.
“I’m so glad.” I shout so she can hear me. We take another bend around the lake and she grips me tighter. I could get used to this. This feeling, when Elowen is with me, I can’t name another time in my life where I enjoyed company this much.
Every few minutes, I delve into her mind just quick enough to remain focused on the road still. She’s both scared and excited. I have to figure out other surprising activities to do with her. Now that I know she’s so open minded, how horrible would it be to just tell her the truth? The whole truth.
No. No way. Absolutely not.