Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Eliza
The morning sun streamed through the classroom windows, casting long beams across the colorful chaotic artwork that adorned the walls. As my second graders filed in, the day’s predictable rhythm began to unfold—a comforting cadence of lesson plans and youthful energy. I greeted each child with their choice: a smile, a hug, a handshake, a fist bump, slipping effortlessly into my role as Ms. Eliza, their ever-patient and encouraging teacher.
Once the children were settled and engrossed in their reading groups, I allowed my thoughts to drift, briefly touching on the parts of my life that weren’t defined by lesson plans and parent-teacher conferences. The parts that involved being Emma’s mother—and lately, the parts entangled with a certain biker whose image I couldn’t quite shake.
The previous day’s coffee encounter with Knox had left me feeling as equally exhilarated as uneasy. Coming right out and asking my wildest fantasy? Until then, it had been unconnected to a biker. But last night, alone in my bed, that outlaw was all I could think about. His rugged charm was undeniable, but the cautious, careful side of me—the side that had been shaped by years of letdowns and a particularly excruciating divorce—urged caution.
Later, during my lunch break, after hearing about everyone’s new Stanley cups, their target runs or new grandbaby, I found a quiet corner in the teachers’ lounge and called my closest friend, Birdie. Being a Marketing Manager, she worked from home, and I knew she would take my call at any time. However, it had been a long time since I had a crisis like this.
“I don’t know, Bird,” I started, my voice quiet. “There’s something about this biker. He’s so different from what I’m used to, from what I thought I wanted.”
Birdie’s voice crackled through the phone, warm and teasing. “Isn’t that a good thing, Eliza?”
“No, Bird. You should see him. He’s so big and muscly, I feel small next to him. And he’s probably the hottest guy I’ve seen in all of Knoxville, seriously,” I couldn’t stop my voice from rising.
“After Mark, you deserve someone who makes you feel alive. And hell, hasn’t been long enough.”
Toying with the edge of my lunch napkin, I sighed. “It’s not just that he’s a biker, Birdie. It’s… he’s intense, and kind, and when he looks at me, I feel—”
“Like you’re the only woman in the world?” she offered, and I could almost see her knowing smile through the line.
“Yes, exactly that. But what if it’s all just a game to him? What if I’m just a challenge?” My fears, always simmering beneath the surface, threatened to boil over. “Or a dare?”
“Eliza, listen to yourself,” Birdie scolded.
“I’ve put on so much weight since the divorce. I have no idea why this hot biker is even looking at me.”
“Bullshit. You’re beautiful.”
“I know. I am. Big and beautiful, and you know I’m usually proud of it. But it’s been so long since a man looked at me the way he does. And he’s so different. I’m sure I’m nothing like the kind of women who probably surround him. I guess I feel like he’s out of my league.” These were feelings I could only admit to Birdie.
“You’re not just any woman. You’re a brilliant, beautiful single mom who’s held her own through everything.”
“You know, when Mark left me, I promised myself I’d put Emma first. I’m not sure dating a biker is putting her first.”
“You said Knox seems like a nice guy?” Birdie wasn’t wrong.
“Yeah, but charities and coffee or not, he’s a Royal Bastard. A President of a motorcycle club, Bird. He’s gotta be dangerous.”
“Yeah, but hopefully to other people and not to you.” Birdie laughed. “It’s time for pros and cons. Cons first. He’s a biker. A con in your book. I don’t agree.”
“It’s not like he just rides a motorcycle. He’s in a club and their leader,” I added.
“Another con?” Birdie asked.
“He’s gorgeous,” I said automatically.
“And how is that a bad thing?” Birdie strained her words.
“Mark was gorgeous once, and he cheated,” I reminded her.
“Any other cons,” she conceded.
“We’re so different, and Emma.” I gave her two.
“Okay,” Birdie sang. “Let’s talk about the pros.”
“Knox is gorgeous,” I said, laughing. “And he gives me butterflies.”
“That’s it. Butterflies. I would kill for butterflies, Eliza. Fuck. Is this middle school? Butterflies, for real? Give that biker a chance but on your terms. Text him back, set up another date. Maybe something simple, like lunch? Keep track of those butterflies, girl.”
I stared at my usual, boring, safe, tuna sandwich on gluten-free bread. Her words, as always, bolstered my spirits. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe a lunch, in public, under my control.”
“Exactly. Keep it in your court and see where it goes from there. You’ve got this,” she encouraged.
Fortified by Birdie’s pep talk, I picked up my phone after the call. My fingers hesitated above the screen for a moment before I tapped out a message to Knox, inviting him to lunch tomorrow, since it was Saturday.
Eliza: Hi, Knox. Eliza here.
How about lunch tomorrow?
My heart thudded with nerves and anticipation as I hit send.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of art projects and story times, but through it all, a part of me was keenly aware of my phone, silently urging it to buzz with his response. When it finally did, the rush of excitement was almost too much.
His text was enthusiastic, the words on the screen somehow reflecting his eager grin.
Knox: Lunch sounds perfect can’t wait to see you again Eliza
Then came another.
Knox: My place or yours?
Eliza: Public place, but you can choose.
I was curious about where he would pick. As I packed up my classroom at the end of the day, Emma’s bright chatter about her day at school filled the air around us. Her innocent joy and the unreserved love I felt for her reaffirmed my resolve. I would approach this new possibility with Knox cautiously, always mindful of the little world Emma and I had built together, a world that I would protect at all costs, even while exploring the potential of adding someone new to it.
After a few texts back and forth, Knox sent me the address of the place he picked for lunch. The small bistro was quaint, nestled between the vibrant shops lining the bustling streets of downtown. Just seeing his motorcycle parked outside as I cut off the engine of my used car gave me the same butterflies as before.
As I walked in, I spotted Knox immediately. He was impossible to miss. A badass biker in his leather, a complete contrast to the gentle décor of the café. His presence was like a bold stroke of black ink on a pastel canvas. And I couldn’t look away.
Knox sat in a relaxed pose that made him look as if he owned the place—or perhaps as if he belonged to a different place altogether. The first thing I noticed was his sheer size. The hunk was a large man, broad-shouldered and strapping, the kind that clearly didn’t spend his days behind a desk. Nothing like the male teachers who I worked with, not even Bobby, who taught gym and was Little League coach. Knox’s arms, visible beneath a tight, rolled-up sleeve shirt, were covered in an intricate wrapper of tattoos. The artwork ran down his arms, bold and dark, depicting what looked like Celtic knots, skulls, and other mysterious and intimidating symbols.
Framed by a thick, well-groomed beard, his face was more handsome than hot. Somehow, the fact only made him hotter. His dark hair was short but stylish, revealing a pair of small black earrings. He wore heavy boots that looked like they had seen a thousand miles, adding an aura to the man, making him look like someone who lived a life full of adventure and perhaps danger. Despite the rough exterior, there was a certain charm to his ruggedness, a magnetic charisma that was hard to ignore.
Raising his eyebrows, he stood as I approached, that trademark grin spreading across his face. Knox was everything my life wasn’t—unpredictable, raw, dangerously inviting. The allure of the forbidden called every time I met him. It was as if just the sight of him sketched a bit of his world in vibrant colors onto my mind.
Birdie had told me to keep track of the butterflies, and they’d started the moment he’d texted back. At present, the darn things had almost brought me to my knees. But my apprehension steeled my resolve. Here was a man who seemed about as sturdy and reliable as I was unpredictable. His presence overwhelmed me. I wondered how someone like him could possibly fit into my busy but safe life, a life filled with school schedules, early nights and a four-year-old.
Yet, as he pulled out a chair for me with a gentleness that contradicted his tough appearance, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to the paradox he presented. Could I really see myself with this biker who embodied a way of life that was so distinct from my own? As we began to talk, his melodious tone, a deep, soothing timbre, the question lingered in my mind, even as I found myself intrigued by every word he said.
“Eliza, you look beautiful,” he greeted, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to resonate just beneath my skin.
Because the weather still allowed it, I’d worn a sundress that hugged my curves in the best way. Feeling a flutter dancing recklessly in my chest, I smiled. “Thank you, Knox. This place is lovely.” He was staring at my bare legs, so I put my napkin over my lap.
“It reminded me of you,” he said and cleared his throat. “Frankly, I wasn’t sure they’d let me in.” He winked and about bowled me over.
Oh, damn. The butterflies flapped harder. Giving into a nervous tick, I tugged my hair behind my ear and combed it with my fingers. “Just like me? Afraid I won’t let you in?”
“Exactly?” He gave me a knowing look.
“In where?” I couldn’t resist asking as I rested my hands in my lap. Call him out. Since my divorce, I’d had my share of men looking for a booty call. I’d turned down every one of them. Did Knox just want in my pants?
Knox chuckled. “In your pussy,” he said right out loud.
Glancing around, I sucked in a breath at his words. If it was any other man, I may have slapped him. Gotten up to leave. Something. Nonetheless, I stayed glued to my seat and suddenly felt myself sweating.
“That’s not all I’m after. But there’s no need to sugarcoat it,” he went on, leaning on his elbows.
I opened my mouth but couldn’t find the words.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?” He asked. “I’m sorry. I am a man and you asked. Just trying to be straight with you. I must admit, seeing you again when I took you for coffee had nothin’ to do with our code.”
“I figured,” I breathed.
“Smart,” he said and changed the subject, thankfully.
Once I cooled down, the conversation flowed more smoothly than I had expected. He talked about his childhood in Knoxville, telling stories that were both fascinating and heart-wrenching. Both his parents died while he was still a teen, and he had been an only child. His grandfather, who took him in, was a biker for the Royal Bastards MC. Knox took care of him until he passed. The biker spoke of his club like a family, a concept that warmed me to him even more.
I shared tales of my family, my parents and my two brothers all out of state in Florida where I was raised before moving to Tennessee for college. Of course, I spoke of teaching, the challenges, and the victories. He asked about Emma, and I went on forever about my little darling, but I carefully steered around the jagged edges of my past relationship. I didn’t mention how I became a single mom. There was an understanding in his eyes, a recognition that some chapters were closed for a reason.
As we ordered, it was clear our tastes were as vastly different as we were. Knox ordered a burger, medium rare with fries, and I had salmon on a salad. It’s not that I was on a diet, but I didn’t eat red meat or fried foods, never really had. My tastes had never helped my waistline, though. Knox had a beer, and I had unsweet tea with a pink packet. That’s not to say that I didn’t drink. I just didn’t drink during the afternoon. After our date, I would pick up Emma and drive her home, returning to being a mom.
Even our postures were opposite. I sat up straight, bringing my food to my lips while Knox bent to his plate. His knees were wide, and my legs were crossed. Despite our differences, throughout lunch, our eyes locked often, a silent acknowledgment of the attraction simmering between us. It was disarming how my body reacted to him just being near—the way my pulse quickened, how my skin tingled. I had never been so attracted to a man ever before. Dare say not even to my ex-husband, Mark, when our love was new. Sitting across from me, Knox was like a living flame, and I was some bug, drawn irresistibly to his warmth, even as my mind cautioned me against the burn.
As we wrapped up our meal, Knox leaned back, his gaze lingering on me a moment too long, making my heart skip.
“How about we take this afternoon up a notch? It’s beautiful out, and I know just the place where the world seems to stand still. Let me take you for a ride, Eliza.” Knox smiled like the devil himself while offering.
I knew there was a double entendre in his invitation, a playful hint at more than just a motorcycle ride. The butterflies weren’t just in my chest. My cheeks warmed at the thought, a part of me tempted to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and let myself feel alive in ways I hadn’t in years. I could call Grandma and change the time I was picking Emma up easily. But reality, with its cold, grounding touch, reminded me of the stakes.
“I think I should head back,” I said, my voice softer than I intended. “But thank you, Knox, for lunch and for the company.”
This time I left before Knox could try to kiss me again, leaving him in the bistro. My drive to Grandma’s was a blur. His offer echoed within my thoughts, each thought of what might have been sending a thrilling jolt through me. Riding on the back of his Harley, back to his place and riding him. The urge almost made me feel sick to my stomach. It’d been way too long since I’d even let myself entertain the thought.
Once home, I put Emma down for her nap and headed straight for the shower, turning the knob until the water was almost too cold to bear. I let the icy stream wash over me, hoping it would quench the fire that Knox had ignited, at least for now.
As the water cooled my skin, I couldn’t help but wonder about the warmth of his embrace, about the adventures and passion his voice promised. The very thought of Knox was both tempting and terrifying.