Epilogue
Oakley
“Are you sure you’re up for this?”
I glance up to Quinton where he’s standing across from me, leaning against the handlebars of his Indian Scout. He looks sexy as ever in a white tee and jeans, the lines and patterns of his tattoos popping out from beneath the sleeves. It makes it hard to concentrate on what I’m doing.
Which is learning to drive the fucking motorcycle currently between my thighs.
It’s never been an item on my bucket list, but I still remember the day he mentioned teaching me to drive it after one of our countless hook-ups, and more importantly, the spark in Quinn’s eyes at the thought of teaching me about something he loves.
It’s a light I never want to see go out. Ever.
So when he mentioned going for a ride today in passing, I thought…what better time than the present? Except, now that I’m straddling the damn thing, anxiety has set in, and I’m starting to regret my line of thinking altogether.
Still, I swallow down my unease and give a firm nod. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
One dark brow arches, but he just nods toward the bike. “Then start her up.”
Doing as he says, I turn the ignition switch he showed me earlier to the right.
“Okay, now flip the switch on the right-hand grip. That engages the electrical system.” When I do, he nods again and places his right hand over my left and gives a gentle squeeze. “Perfect, now pull in the clutch and push the start button.”
My finger hovers over the start button on the right handle for a moment as I stare into his icy blue eyes, and he gives me an easy, reassuring smile.
“You got this, baby. Let her roar.”
The engine purrs to life beneath me a moment later, and in that moment, I understand why he loves this as much as he does. The thrill it shoots through me is unreal. Only pure power and adrenaline.
I look up from the bike to him grinning down at me.
“You getting on?”
A look of amusement on his ridiculously handsome face. “You want me to ride bitch on my own bike?”
Now it’s my turn to be amused. “As if you don’t love every chance you get to rub up against me from behind?”
His lips purse for a moment before he nods. “Maybe, but you’re not naked right now.” Another brief pause, and then, “Wait, is that something we can—”
“Absolutely not,” I say with a laugh, but I’d be lying if the thought didn’t sound semi-appealing…as long as it was off and the kickstand was down. Or maybe him bent over it…
Damn. Spending all this time with him must really be rubbing off on me.
I shake the dirty thoughts free as best I can and motion with my head to the seat on the back. “C’mon. You know you want to.”
His lips purse for a moment, forming into a tight, thin line as he debates if he has complete trust in me not to destroy one of his most prized possessions…only to round the bike and climb behind me with ease.
Probably a wise decision, if I’m being honest.
Quinn’s torso presses against my back, making it even harder to concentrate than when I could see him. His heat radiating through my shirt sends shivers down my spine as he peeks over my shoulder and continues instructing me with reassurance.
“Okay, you got this. Push your left toe down to put it in first gear. You’ll use your heel to go into second once we start moving.
Okay, and then release the clutch slowly while rolling the throttle with your right hand.
” He pauses, and I feel the nod of his chin against my shoulder as I do what he says.
“That’s it, baby. A little more gas and—”
The bike jerks beneath us, and Quinn’s hands latch onto the handle bars outside of mine, clamping down the clutch and handbrake.
“A little less than that. We don’t need it flying out from under us.” He laughs before pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. “C’mon. Try again. You got this.”
He releases his hold on the handle bars, and I repeat the steps he told me, a little gentler on the gas this time. And like he said, we’re moving across the empty parking lot.
Once we’re going, Quinn’s arms wrap around my waist the way mine have done to him countless times before while we fly down the pavement at what must be a hundred miles an hour, my heart pounding in my ears with the roar of the engine.
And again, I understand why he loves this so much.
The freedom of this moment here with him is unmatched, and I’m basking in it.
Until I realize we’re quickly running out of room, and I have no idea which brake I’m supposed to use in order to stop this thing.
Quinn must realize this too, because he immediately takes control of the bike from behind me, both feet kicking mine out of the way on the footboards before clasping the handlebars too.
Don’t ask me how it happens so quickly and easily, but he somehow brings us to a complete stop twenty yards from the end of the parking lot.
Once we’re no longer moving, Quinn kills the engine, and a stark silence falls over us.
He presses a kiss to the side of my throat right where my pulse is still racing beneath my skin, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“Guess I should have mentioned more about braking before I let you ride off into the sunset.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around my waist again and squeezing me. “We’ll work on that the next go around.”
I ignore him completely, still high on the mini adrenaline rush from driving the thing on my own. “Okay, but you just saw me do that, right?”
A low chuckle leaves him and he presses another kiss to the side of my throat before leaning away. “I did. Nice job, hotshot. Maybe next time we can go above twenty.”
I turn and glare over my shoulder the best I can when he’s almost plastered against my back. “We were going faster than that.” Then I think about it, and… “Wait, we went faster than that, right?”
A shake of his head is all I get in answer, his lips rolling in to fight a smile.
Jackass.
He’s my jackass, though, even after all the shit I put him through last year, and that’s what’s important.
There are times I don’t think I deserve the second chance he granted me, and when he looks at me the way he is right now is one of those times.
With so much fucking pride and love, I could easily be consumed in it.
I’m proud of him too, having seen the work he’s put into becoming the person he is now, and it’s a damn shame his parents are still too fucking stubborn to see it. To want to know the brilliant, kind, charismatic man he is, rather than the shell of the person they wanted him to be.
But their loss…is my gain.
And I’ve gained the greatest teammate I could’ve ever asked for. On the ice, sure, there’s no one better. But it’s off the ice when it counts most, something he’s shown me every single day since we left Chicago for New Jersey.
I know, not the place I imagined myself living once making it to the NHL. But Windsor is almost dead center between Philly and New York City, so it held a lot of appeal after we were both drafted this summer.
Him to New York, and me to Philadelphia.
Playing for different teams again is something I’m not fond of, especially with knowing how great we can be on the ice together.
A true dynamic duo that could be unstoppable, if given the chance to shine.
But at least we’re on two different teams within a couple hours of each other, making living together a possibility during the off-season and when our home schedules match up.
It’s better than nothing.
And I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly butthurt over the fact that he got New York when they had been my team for years growing up. Philly isn’t bad though. Plus it gives me a little barb to toss at him, seeing as they drafted me five picks before New York got him.
Whatever little wins I can get in this never-ending competition with him, I’m gonna take.
“I’m still proud of you,” he says, ice blue eyes darting between mine. “You did a lot better than I did the first time I drove one.”
“I severely doubt that.”
“Well, considering you didn’t tip it, I’d say yes.”
My mouth drops open slightly. “You’re kidding.”
Another shake of the head. “Hand on heart, I don’t think I made it more than twenty yards before I toppled over. Granted, I was sixteen, but still.”
Laughter erupts between us, and he reaches up, thumb caressing my cheek where I’m smiling. I fight the urge to lean into it, but it’s almost impossible.
His touch still manages to light my skin on fire the same way that dimpled grin sends my heart into a tailspin. The same way his eyes tell me he loves me, even if the words don’t leave his lips.
My phone rings, cutting through our silence, and a quick glance at it reveals Louis’s name on the screen.
“Always ruining a moment,” Quinn mutters, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. “But you should probably take it.”
I know I should. Louis never calls us unless it’s something important—usually concerning our contracts or some other legal crap—which is exactly why I answer the damn thing as quickly as possible.
“Louis,” I say in a way of greeting.
“Oakley,” Louis’s voice comes from through the speaker. “You got a minute?”
“Wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t.”
He sighs on the other end of the line. “I see that boyfriend of yours is a wonderful influence on your attitude,” he notes, exasperation clear in his tone. “I’ll make it quick. Do you want the good news or bad news first?”
My stomach might as well have dropped off the edge of the Empire State Building. “Bad news. Always.”
Quinn’s brows furrow, clearly picking up on my panicked and slightly agitated state. Which only gets worse when Louis says the three words I was dreading most.
“You’ve been traded.”
Instantly, my entire world tilts on its axis, my heart making its way into my throat. I suffocate on it as I gape over my shoulder at Quinn, completely at a loss for words.
He’s off the bike in an instant, eyes checking me over as if the news Louis just told me caused physical damage.
“What’s going on?” he whispers.