Chapter 19 The Riders Muse
Graduation Day
I spent most of graduation morning trying not to throw up.
Not because I was nervous about walking across a stage.
Not because of the degree.
Not even because thousands of people would be watching.
The problem sat beside me in the passenger seat of a pickup truck.
His name was Jaxon Kane.
And he looked entirely too comfortable.
I adjusted the collar of my graduation gown for the fifth time.
Then checked it again.
Then adjusted it one more time.
Beside me, Jaxon drove calmly through morning traffic.
One hand on the steering wheel.
Sunglasses hiding his eyes.
The picture of relaxed confidence.
I hated him a little.
"You're enjoying this."
The accusation escaped before I could stop it.
A grin appeared immediately.
Caught.
Absolutely caught.
"What?"
"That."
I pointed.
"The smiling."
"I'm not smiling."
Liar.
Terrible liar.
The worst kind.
The kind who knew exactly how obvious he was.
I folded my arms.
"You are."
He shrugged.
Completely unbothered.
"I think it's funny."
Of course he did.
Everything was funny when you weren't the one about to walk across a stage in front of several thousand people.
The grin widened slightly.
"You're gonna wear a hole in that gown."
I looked down.
My hands were indeed fussing with the fabric again.
Traitors.
The lot of them.
I sighed dramatically.
"This is a big day."
The teasing immediately disappeared.
Just like that.
One second amusement.
The next something softer.
Something deeper.
"I know."
The answer carried enough sincerity to make my chest tighten.
Because he really did know.
More than anyone else.
More than my professors.
More than my classmates.
More than my family.
Jaxon knew exactly what this degree represented.
The nights spent studying.
The years spent trying to meet impossible expectations.
The struggle to figure out who I wanted to become.
Most importantly, he knew how hard I'd fought to get here.
The realization warmed something inside me.
I looked out the window.
Watching the city pass by.
The morning sunlight reflected off buildings and glass.
People moved through their routines.
Normal lives.
Ordinary moments.
Yet today felt extraordinary.
Not because I was graduating.
Because for the first time, I wasn't graduating for someone else.
The thought settled heavily inside my chest.
Beautifully.
When we'd first met, everything I did had revolved around expectation.
My father's expectations.
My family's expectations.
The expectations of people who thought they knew exactly what my life should look like.
Now?
Now the future belonged to me.
The realization still felt new.
Like learning a different language.
One built from freedom instead of obligation.
The university campus buzzed with activity.
Students filled every available space.
Families crowded sidewalks.
Faculty members rushed between buildings.
The atmosphere carried a strange combination of celebration and exhaustion.
Four years of work condensed into a single afternoon.
Jaxon parked near the stadium entrance.
Immediately, I noticed the cameras.
Media crews.
Reporters.
Photographers.
The familiar sight no longer surprised me.
My father's campaign had ensured I'd spent most of my life around media attention.
Still, seeing them made my stomach tighten.
Old habits.
Old fears.
Beside me, Jaxon noticed instantly.
Of course he did.
His hand settled briefly against the back of my neck.
Warm.
Steady.
Grounding.
"You okay?"
The question came quietly.
Only for me.
I looked toward the cameras.
Then toward him.
Then smiled.
"Yeah."
And surprisingly, it was true.
The attention remained uncomfortable.
But it didn't own me anymore.
The distinction mattered.
A lot.
Jaxon nodded.
Satisfied.
Then climbed out of the truck.
The simple action immediately drew attention.
Because Jaxon tended to draw attention everywhere.
Six-foot-three.
Broad shoulders.
Visible tattoos.
The kind of presence people noticed.
Today proved no exception.
Several photographers glanced our way.
Recognition appeared quickly.
Whispers followed.
Then cameras.
Wonderful.
Exactly what every graduating student wanted.
Public scrutiny before noon.
I expected tension.
Awkwardness.
Maybe frustration.
Instead, Jaxon simply offered his hand.
The gesture surprised me.
Not because it was unusual.
Because it was public.
Deliberately public.
The realization hit harder than expected.
For one brief moment, I stared.
Then took his hand.
Without hesitation.
Without apology.
The cameras clicked faster.
Neither of us cared.
And honestly?
That felt incredible.
The ceremony itself passed in a blur.
Speeches.
Awards.
Announcements.
Traditions.
The usual collection of academic rituals.
I barely remembered half of them.
Because every time I looked toward the audience, I found Jaxon.
Sitting beside Mason.
Rhett.
Nico.
My strange little found family.
The sight never failed to make me smile.
Mason waved whenever he caught me looking.
Like an overexcited golden retriever.
Rhett remained dignified.
Mostly.
Nico pretended not to care while secretly taking photographs.
The man wasn't nearly as subtle as he believed.
And Jaxon?
Jaxon simply watched.
Proud.
Quiet.
Present.
The realization carried me through every remaining hour.
Then my name echoed through the stadium speakers.
Everything stopped.
Or felt like it.
The moment I'd spent years working toward had finally arrived.
I stood.
Adjusted the graduation cap.
Then walked toward the stage.
Each step felt strangely unreal.
Like moving through a dream.
Applause echoed around me.
The audience blurred together.
Faces.
Voices.
Movement.
Yet one face remained perfectly clear.
Jaxon.
The sight grounded me immediately.
Because suddenly I understood something.
This moment wasn't just about earning a degree.
It was about surviving everything that came before it.
The expectations.
The fear.
The pressure.
The heartbreak.
The fight to become myself.
Every step toward the stage represented a choice.
Every sacrifice.
Every risk.
Every act of courage.
The realization settled over me like sunlight.
Warm.
Certain.
Real.
I accepted the diploma.
Shook hands.
Smiled for photographs.
The traditional rituals continued.
Yet something had changed.
Inside me.
A quiet certainty.
A confidence that hadn't existed before.
Not because life had become easier.
Because I finally trusted myself.
The distinction mattered.
After the ceremony ended, graduates flooded onto the lawn.
Families reunited.
Photographs happened.
Hugs.
Laughter.
Celebration.
The campus transformed into pure chaos.
I barely made it ten feet before Mason found me.
"Graduate!"
The shout echoed across half the lawn.
Several people turned.
Mason ignored them completely.
Naturally.
A second later, I found myself trapped in an aggressive congratulatory hug.
Air became optional.
"Can't breathe."
"Good."
The answer made absolutely no sense.
Which meant it was probably Mason.
A moment later, Rhett rescued me.
Nico rolled his eyes.
Jaxon smiled.
The familiar scene filled me with unexpected emotion.
Because these people weren't supposed to be part of my life.
Yet somehow they'd become some of the most important people in it.
The realization felt overwhelming.
Beautifully overwhelming.
Eventually, the crowd thinned.
Photographs ended.
The celebration settled.
The afternoon sun stretched across campus lawns and historic buildings.
For a few precious minutes, everything became quiet.
Peaceful.
I found myself standing slightly apart from the others.
Watching students celebrate.
Watching families take pictures.
Watching life move forward.
Then Jaxon appeared beside me.
Neither of us spoke immediately.
The silence felt comfortable.
Familiar.
Home.
After a while, he glanced toward me.
"You did it."
The words sounded simple.
Yet they carried everything.
Pride.
Love.
Belief.
I looked down at the diploma still clutched in my hands.
Then back toward the campus.
Toward the future waiting beyond it.
Slowly, I smiled.
Not because of the degree.
Not because of the ceremony.
Because of what it meant.
For the first time in my life, every important decision belonged to me.
The career.
The future.
The people I loved.
The story I wanted to tell.
All of it.
No expectations.
No scripts.
No political plans.
Only choice.
The realization settled deeply inside my heart.
And standing there beneath a bright summer sky, surrounded by people who loved me exactly as I was, I finally understood something I'd spent years searching for.
I wasn't living the life someone else had chosen for me anymore.
I was living my own.
And for the first time, it felt absolutely perfect.
The Dedication
Keeping a proposal secret turned out to be significantly harder than surviving a knife attack.
Mostly because Mason knew about it.
Giving Mason confidential information was like handing gasoline to a pyromaniac and asking him not to start fires.
Technically possible.
Realistically impossible.
For three weeks, the man had been insufferable.
Every time Elliot entered a room, Mason grinned.
Every time Elliot left a room, Mason grinned.
At one point, I genuinely considered murder.
The jury would've understood.
Probably.
"You're sweating."
I looked up from the motorcycle I wasn't actually working on.
Mason stood nearby holding a coffee.
His grin immediately annoyed me.
"Go away."
"No."
Naturally.
The answer arrived instantly.
Because apparently irritating me counted as community service.
Mason pointed toward my shirt.
"Nervous?"
The accusation earned silence.
Mostly because he was right.
Which made it worse.
A lot worse.
The engagement ring sat hidden inside my office desk.
The entire garage had been rebuilt.
Expanded.
Transformed.
And somehow none of that scared me.
The proposal did.
Because motorcycles made sense.