CHAPTER 11
GRAYCIE
I can’t stop feeling Turner’s lips moving against mine even a day later.
It felt like everything in my world slowed to a stop, because nothing would dare move while my soul was realigning to be in tune with his.
While it makes no sense, and I barely know the man, I’ve come to realize that maybe it’s not supposed to make sense.
Maybe this feeling isn’t supposed to be something easy to explain or brush away. Is that what makes it real? Or is that what makes it a delusion which is safer than my reality?
When Turner promised to keep me safe and that he would wait until I’m ready to share my secrets, I believed him.
Even though it’s scary and feels almost impossible, I believe he would put himself on the line to ensure my safety.
I never would have thought a biker could be so sweet.
But Turner is. At least with me.
Seeing Dogwood Ridge like I did last night, from the overlook I didn’t even know was there, made it feel like the life I’ve been building could be real and could last. I’ve been clinging to that feeling all day because the alternative, of needing to run because Sylvester won’t let me go and is closing in, makes me want to scream.
For the first time in so damn long, I don’t want to run anymore. I want to stay. I want to build something that lasts.
And the promises in Turner’s gray eyes call to me and make me believe in something when the world has given me far too many lies and half-truths to sort through.
I’ve been home from the bakery for a little while, but I’m restless where normally I’m just exhausted. I know why, too.
It’s because the feeling of being so close to Turner, of being pressed against his back and leaning with his body through every turn, is right there under my skin. It buzzes; the connection between us, begging to be fortified, begging for one more look.
But other than a good morning text waiting for me when I got up, I haven’t heard from him. He could be playing hard to get or he could have figured out I’m not really worth all the trouble.
It’s probably for the best that he figures it out now.
Because I don’t know when I’ll feel ready to really try with Turner and that’s exactly what he asked me for last night—a chance. As much as I want to give it to him, what happens when he gets frustrated with waiting? What happens if I’m never able to give him what he needs, wants, or deserves?
I’m too broken.
I’m too burdened by the past.
I’m too lost in the shadows.
Honestly, I hoped to see him today since I hadn’t heard anything about Dolly’s car being ready or what the plan was.
Stan took me into work this morning since our schedules aren’t that far off.
Lara didn’t mind me coming in a little later than normal.
It’s not something I make a habit of, and she really could get the bakery opened without my help.
I think she just likes another person being there with her and I can’t exactly blame her for it. With only your thoughts as company while kneading dough or doling out ingredients it can get a little lonely.
When I stepped through the back door of Bunz Out, I had almost convinced myself that Turner would be waiting there for me. He wasn’t. Disappointment hit me square in the chest and had me staggering back a step.
I couldn’t dwell on the feeling; it wouldn’t have done any good anyway.
Before I can spiral even deeper into my unhelpful and, frankly, morose thoughts, there’s a knock on my door. From the pattern of it, I already know who it is from my spot on the couch. I also know she won’t go away until I answer.
Which is the only reason why I drag my ass up off the couch and head toward the door. Just as I reach it, Opal knocks again and I groan out, “Hold your horses, I’m coming.”
Her smile is wide when I swing the door open, knowing full well I probably look like a cat who went a few rounds with a shower and lost. Not only did this morning come far too early, but I’ve been an emotional wreck since the moment I closed the door after my ‘date that wasn’t a date’ with Turner.
My best friend doesn’t wait for me to let her in; she simply breezes past me and proceeds to make herself very comfortable on my couch. I glare at the woman, but she doesn’t pay my look any mind. Not that I really expected her to. She does what she wants and rarely apologizes for it.
I envy that about her usually, but right now it’s making me reconsider this entire friendship. Fine, not really, but I’m considering reconsidering it. And that has to count for something.
“So,” Opal holds out the word and makes some sweeping gestures with her hands, “tell me everything. How was it being on the back of my brother’s bike? Where did he take you? What happened?”
She’s leaning forward, the look on her face open and expectant and I can’t help but smile. It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend in my life, a real friend. Sylvester made sure to isolate me from everyone and friends I had spent years investing in were just gone.
Some of those friends tried to hang on, to stay in my life, but eventually the texts stopped along with the phone calls and the invites to dinner, celebrations, and parties.
Sylvester got what he wanted, and I had to wrestle with the anger and disappointment churning in my gut because my friends gave up on me so easily.
Not that it was their responsibility to save my ass. No, that was all on me. I didn’t put up enough of a fight when it came to Sylvester, his expectations, and rules. All in the name of finally having love.
It was never love; it was always control. I just couldn’t see it then, but now I can’t see anything else.
I’m terrified I won’t notice the pattern a second time, just like the first. I’m horrified at the thought of losing myself again. I’ve barely found who I am on this side of everything I went through at the hands of man who screamed in my face about love, trust, and loyalty.
But he never held those things in his hands or his heart. It was always about power, control, and cruelty.
I don’t think Turner would try to make me smaller.
He’s offering you a family, not taking one, even if it was never real, away from you.
The words whisper through me, and I close my eyes for a moment as they slam into me.
When I open my eyes again, Opal is practically vibrating on the couch with excitement and anticipation.
I can’t help but grin at her because there is nothing fake about the friendship Opal has offered me since the moment we met.
“It was fun,” I tell her, my voice light.
But that is not nearly enough for Opal. Her face drops from a bright smile into a deep scowl.
“It was fun?” She mocks my voice and pulls a face which telegraphs exactly what she thinks about my response.
“That’s all you got for me? You’re the first woman my brother has ever allowed on the back of his bike other than me and you’re going with it was ‘fun’?
” Her head shakes side to side so hard I’m a little concerned she might give herself whiplash. “I’m going to need some more.”
I collapse back onto the couch and let out a long sigh. When I glance over at Opal, her eyebrows are pulled together, and concern is written all over her face.
“Was it really bad? Did you hate being on the back of his bike? Was he rude?” She gasps and jumps to her feet, “Was he an asshole? I’ll go and beat the shit out of him. I don’t give a fuck if he does wear the VP patch or not.”
As she storms toward the door, I’m almost not fast enough to catch her. But I do.
“You don’t need to beat up your brother,” I assure her with a huff.
“Are you sure?” She narrows her eyes at me. “He won’t hit me which means I can do some real damage. I’ll probably get kicked out of the clubhouse and banned for a while, but it would be worth it.”
“No violence needed,” I hold up my hands in surrender, “promise.”
“Fine,” she whines before flopping back into her seat like she lives here and not me. “Then tell me what happened.” Her face screws up in a grimace, “But you can leave out anything sexual, I don’t need to know anything about that since we’re talking about my brother. Gross.”
I’m looking at her with both my eyebrows raised up to practically my hair line. She simply waves her hand dismissively.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re into him, but just spare me those details please. Everything else? I want the full download,” she demands while leaning toward me, her face filled with an eagerness that my belly echoes.
When was the last time I had something to gush over with a girlfriend? It’s been far too long.
“You saw that he got me a leather jacket,” I remind her.
She nods sagely, her voice telling me her words are obvious, “Because he wanted to take care of you and wearing the proper gear is a must when being on the back of a bike. All of the brothers are amazing and safe riders, but you can’t predict the other people on the road.
Some protection is better than no protection. ”
I swallow hard because I didn’t even consider the danger when Turner held his hand out for me and waited until I was ready to climb into place behind him. He didn’t rush me. He never seems to rush me.
“And he got me a helmet, just for me,” I whisper the words because they feel bigger when I’m saying them out loud, like I’m admitting something I’m not entirely ready for.
Opal gives me a soft smile before nodding encouragingly as if she’s just waiting for me to keep going. When I’m not fast enough, she adds a hand motion.
I shrug one shoulder and try to make the whole thing out to be more casual than it is. “We rode on his bike, that’s about it.”
Opal flops back against the couch and lets out a very dramatic sound. “That cannot be it, Graycie. Where did he take you? Did you like it? Are you planning another ride?”