Chapter 8 Hazel #2
Thick lashes and sharp brows framed a piercing gaze I wanted to see up close. All I needed to do was get out of the car—hopefully not like a total spaz—and climb on the back of this hot stranger’s motorcycle.
Totally safe. Definitely not stupid.
We pulled up to the white line, and Skylar jolted the car to a halt. I glanced over my shoulder at her, hand already pulling on the door handle, when she gave me a look that was mixed with concern and excitement.
“It’s just a ride, right? You have my location on my phone.” I patted my back pocket to be sure it was still there.
She nodded and pinned me with a hard stare. “You know I will hunt this man to the ends of the earth if he hurts you in any way.”
“I’ll be okay,” I told her, pointing over at him. “Look at those eyes.”
I wasn’t sure what he said to her, but I watched as he created an X over his heart and chuckled at whatever she must’ve replied with.
Genesis reached forward, ushering me out of the car in haste. “It’s not going to be red forever! Go! Go!”
In the next moment, I was standing on the pavement, eye level with him.
He placed either hand on his helmet and lifted it off, brushing through his messy blond hair with his fingers.
My heart somersaulted when he lowered his chin and I saw his face.
It was him.
The drummer who had come to my rescue.
You, was the only word my mouth could form.
He smiled charmingly and winked. “You.”
I know I’d seen him standing next to me only hours earlier onstage, but his height and stature were just as much of a shock now as they had been then. He had to have well over a foot on me in height.
I blinked, ending up with his helmet in my hands, though I wasn’t sure how. My entire body had somehow turned numb all at once.
“Want help with that?” he asked.
I lifted my brow in confusion, just so I could watch his lips move again.
His wide grin made it slightly more difficult for me to read his lips again, but, God, I loved deciphering his message even more while he was smiling at me.
“May I?”
I nodded, and he reached for the helmet and shimmied it over my head, looping the chin strap beneath for added security.
The brush of his fingers made my skin come to life.
“Ready?” he asked, those blue eyes of his both playful and kind.
I took a deep breath, glanced over my shoulder at my friends one last time, and then gave him a thumbs-up.
He righted himself and the bike and offered his hand, helping me as I hoisted myself onto the back.
The seat was so tiny that I feared falling off the back, so I scooted as close to him as I could.
His thick, warm back shook against me when I did, and I grinned, latching on to him just in time for him to take off down the road.
We surged forward, and I squeezed my legs and arms around him, feeling like a little backpack on his massive frame.
The streetlights almost blurred as we sped past them, faster and faster, and my pulse followed suit, thrashing against my rib cage.
He could definitely feel it, right?
My heart?
Was he as aware of how my body felt against his as I was of his body against mine?
He was preoccupied with driving and weaving between cars, so maybe that was distracting him. Every twist of the throttle, every mile per hour we increased, made my heart soar, and it was hard not to think that he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
When we turned down an empty frontage road, his speed eased, and we rode steady for a bit, no cars in front of us or behind. It was dark and peaceful, just the two of us.
His shoulders relaxed as he straightened, reaching a hand back to tap my thigh a couple of times, as if he were asking if I was okay.
I unhooked my hands from in front of him and spread them wide across his chest and then tapped back.
To my surprise, he kept his hand on my thigh and gently rubbed his thumb in circles. It was only for a few seconds, but it made my insides flutter.
Once he returned his hand to the bike, I looked up into the night sky, hoping to see the stars with how far away we were from the city’s light pollution, but all I saw were outlines of dark clouds and not a single speck of light.
Huh. Weird.
Before I returned my gaze to the road ahead, a single droplet hit the closed visor on my helmet. And then another. And another. Until it started downpouring on us.
I gasped and squeezed on to him tightly, making myself as small as I could against him, as if it would help keep me dry.
His giant, wet hand covered mine over his middle, and he lurched us forward.
My skin puckered from the beads of cold rain whipping against my bare arms. I couldn’t imagine how it all felt to Tic with his jacket open and no helmet.
He pointed up ahead to a bridge and gave my leg another sweet tap. As soon as we approached our shelter, he slowed the bike to a stop and helped me off the back, tilted it on the kickstand, and swung his long leg over the back.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t know we were expecting rain.” He flipped the visor up on the helmet I wore to see my eyes. “You okay, beautiful?”
I quickly nodded and then shivered.
He shrugged out of his jacket and offered it to me.
I waved my hands and pointed at him, wanting him to keep it for himself. I’d already taken his shirt. There was no way I was going to take his jacket too.
“I run hot. I’ll be all right.” He smirked, shaking it with urgency.
Hesitantly, I threaded my arms through the oversize sleeves, grateful for the immediate warmth.
He raised his brows and glanced at the sky, patting the pockets of his jeans. “I’m not sure how long before it lets up. I’d check, but my phone died before I even went onstage tonight. I have a bad habit of not charging it before I leave my house.”
I reached in my back pocket for mine and pulled it out, touching the black screen, only to have it not wake.
Shit.
I showed him mine was dead, too, and we both shrugged.
Fuck. Not only did I not have a way to talk to him, as I had yet to see him use sign language, but I also had no way to tell Skylar I was okay. She was going to kill me.
I noticed Tic’s outstretched hand and took it without thought, letting him lead me up the dry, concrete ramp beneath the bridge.
We sat, and the sky rumbled, making us both jump.
Tic gazed at me, his laughter fading into a soft grin as he tilted his head. “You can hear that?” he asked.
I nodded, searching my brain for ways to communicate with him.
“Well, I guess you can probably feel that big of a boom, right?”
Holding a hand to my chest, where I felt sounds the most, I nodded to him again. To simplify it, I pointed down and gave a thumbs-up, and then pointed high and shook my head.
It took him a moment, but his eyes eventually lit up with understanding. “Low frequencies are good? High ones not so good?”
I laughed and nodded, wishing I had something more to give him than shaking my head back and forth or nodding up and down.
“Oh, okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to sign. I really should learn.”
“It’s okay.” I signed the words and shrugged, and he understood.
“No, I really need to. I meet a lot of people through our music, you know, and I’ve noticed interpreters at most of our shows lately.
It’d be nice to have a way to talk to those fans.
To talk to anyone who might have hearing loss, really.
” He swallowed, the notch in his throat bobbing. “Especially you.”
My breath caught. I’d never had anyone look at me the way he just had, both flustered and infatuated.
I smiled. It seemed like the simplest way of letting him know I liked that idea, even if the idea of it was a bit obscure.
It was strange. I knew who I was sitting here with, but somehow, the fact that he was this pretty famous rock star had completely slipped my mind.
He seemed so … normal. So easy to be around.
Which was even stranger, considering we’d only met a few hours ago.
Being all alone on the side of the road with a man I’d just met should be a lot more alarming.
Yet I didn’t fear him or his intentions.
I knew if I wanted to leave right this second, he wouldn’t hesitate to take me home.
“Can you show me how to sign your name?” he asked. “Your friend who was driving mentioned it was Hazel?”
My eyes rounded at his request, and then I slowly shifted my hand from one letter to the next, watching as he mirrored my actions.
H-A-Z-E-L.
He practiced again on his own, looking to me for approval before trying again faster.
“It’s a beautiful name. Hazel.”
My cheeks warmed as I watched his lips speak my name. I gestured to him and raised my brows, signing his three-letter name.
“Oh! You want to teach me mine?” He inched closer, focusing. “Okay, wait. Show me again.”
I spelled out T-I-C, and he chuckled, scratching the back of his head shyly.
“Let’s do my real name, if you don’t mind.”
Real name? Shit, I didn’t know what that was or that he preferred it. I placed a hand over my chest and shook my head with regret, offering an apology.
“No, no. It’s okay!” He reached for my hands and held them. “Most people know me as Tic.”
It took everything in me not to look down at our intertwined hands so I wouldn’t miss what it was.
“It’s Milton,” he said, looking at me as if he was waiting for me to laugh or tease him. His cheeks even warmed with a faint pink shade. It was rather adorable.
I smiled and squeezed his hand, which I was still holding, then showed him the six letters to sign.
M-I-L-T-O-N.
He practiced both our names a couple of times and then paused, raising the corner of his mouth. “Hazel and Milton. I think they sound pretty good together—don’t you think?”
I was staring at his lips, waiting for more words while struggling to find my own. But the longer I sat there, gazing at them, the more I wondered what it would be like to press mine against them.
Tonight felt like a different version of me, maybe even a new one.
Impulsive. Carefree. Lighter. Like I wasn’t tethered to someone else.
I didn’t have to check in or ask for permission.
I could just be. It was hard to know if that feeling was a temporary one or just foreign to me, but I wanted to hold on to it for as long as I could.
After all, I didn’t know when I’d get the opportunity like this anytime soon.
There was also this intense curiosity eating away at me as I wondered how it would feel to kiss another man. A man who wasn’t my husband.
Butterflies soared in my stomach, rustling up some apparent courage I hadn’t known I had.
Milton’s eyes fell from mine as he shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be forward. I just—”
It was too late; I was already leaning in, my body making the decision my head couldn’t seem to grip on to.
Heart pounding and breath shaky, I brought my hand to the side of his face, feeling the roughness of some faint stubble, and then I sucked in a small breath and pressed my lips to his. Before I could talk myself through the hundred different reasons why I shouldn’t, I just … kissed him.
It took all but a moment for his shock to wear off before he let out a long breath through his nostrils and relaxed his jaw, leaning deeper into the kiss.
And—oh my GOD—he could kiss.
He cradled the back of my head with a gentle yet firm grasp, and I melted into his touch. His hold on me.
The smell of rain and his musky cologne surrounded me while his lips traced the blueprints of my kiss over and over, trying to memorize the very foundation. But Milton seemed like the kind of man to explore outside the lines.
The faintest nibble he suddenly gave sent my head spinning, and I parted my lips, dragging my tongue along the seam of his mouth.
A brief vibration met our kiss, and I realized he must’ve moaned or hummed in satisfaction. It had to be a deep and raspy one, given how well I could feel it.
My confidence soared. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been able to elicit a moan I could feel in any way from Devan.
Fuck.
Devan.
The thought of him was unwelcome and alarming, like being suddenly pulled out of a perfectly good dream by a bucket of ice water.
Sucking in a breath, I quickly pulled away, letting the warm idea of Hazel and Milton fade from my cold reality.