Chapter 12 Calvin
CALVIN
The bike hums underneath me as I drive to the Lodge. It’s time to drop Grace back off with her family, but our story doesn’t end there. I want to see her again, to get to know her, to kiss her.
I haven’t talked about losing Katie for a long time. And I feel lighter having shared it with Grace, sharing with someone who understands. Someone who knows loss too.
It’s not that I still love Katie. I was angry at her for a long time for making bad choices and angry at myself for not being there when she needed me. But when I think of Katie now, it’s an old scar not a fresh wound.
With Grace’s arms wrapped around me and the bike underneath, I feel free, I feel light, I feel ready to love again. The thought strikes me like the wind on my face. But I can’t possibly love Grace after knowing her only one day. Can I? It must be lust for her that’s clouding my feelings.
The last stretch of road to the Lodge is a winding passage, carved into the cliff's side. The ski slopes are above us, and the peaks of the wooden cabins of the resort can be seen through the trees. There’s a lookout where tourists stop for photos, then it’s all downhill to the place where the lodge is nestled in the mountains, the heart of the resort.
I pull the throttle back, enjoying the ride and the sensation of the woman at my back.
Grace shifts behind me, and her hands leave my waist.
“Wahoo!” she calls into the wind, and her laughter makes me grin from ear to ear.
She loves riding, and I bet she’d love her own bike. I’ll ask Colter to look out for a secondhand one with a small engine. Nothing she can go too fast on.
We can go for rides, take our bikes off the mountain and to the open road, riding side by side. I’d love to travel with Grace, to see some of the country with nothing but our bikes and what we can fit in the saddle bags.
I’m grinning at the thought when we pull into the parking lot. There’s a line of spaces for motorcycles curtesy of Axel, the owner who’s a friend of the club.
As we glide into the parking lot, I catch our reflection in the glass windows of one of the administration buildings.
Grace is holding her helmet in one hand, her loose hair trailing behind her. Her other arm is in the air, letting the wind rush through her fingers. Her head is tilted back and her eyes are closed. She’s not even holding on.
“What the fuck?”
I pull into the nearest parking spot and turn around to face her.
Grace’s eyes snap open, and she’s got a serene expression on her face that turns to confusion when she sees my anger.
“What are you doing?”
She squints at me, confused. “What do you mean?”
I gesture to her helmet. “When did you take that off?”
She gives me a guilty smile like it’s no big deal, a small misdemeanor, a kid taking an extra piece of candy, not a woman on a bike with no helmet who’s not even holding on.
“Coming down the hill. I wanted to feel the wind in my hair.”
She shakes her mane of dark curls, but I’m not going to get distracted. She may be beautiful, but that’s fucking dangerous.
“You never ride without a helmet, ever.”
The smile fades, replaced by annoyance. “Lighten up, sheriff. People ride with no helmets all the time.”
She slides off the bike as if it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal. Her behavior, her disregard for her own safety is a huge deal. How can I think of getting close to a woman who won’t look after herself?
“Stupid people do.”
I regret the words as soon as they’ve left my mouth.
“Are you calling me stupid?”
I run a hand through my hair in exasperation. “No, you’re not stupid. But you’re reckless, Grace.”
She’s looking at me with pursed lips as if I’m the one overreacting. Maybe I am, but I can’t get close to someone who won’t take their own safety seriously.
“And you’re uptight. It was just for a few hundred feet.”
“It doesn’t matter. Anything could have happened. You could have gotten hurt.”
Or worse. My heart lurches at the thought of Grace lying on the road, the bike mangled. I shake the thought out of my head, but it’s persistent. I lost someone to the roads once. I can’t see it happen again.
“It’s not just the helmet. It’s the not pulling the cord, stripping naked in the woods. This wild behavior, it’s going to get you hurt one day. I can’t be with someone who is so reckless.”
Her eyes widen for a moment, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve admitted I want to be with her, that this is more than just one crazy day.
“And I can’t be with someone who wants to wrap me up in cotton wool.
You’ve forgotten how to live, Calvin. Life is for living, because you never know when it might be taken from you.
You should know that. If I’m going to die tomorrow, I want to make sure I’ve experienced everything to the fullest, lived the biggest way possible, and done the things I want to do. ”
Her arms are folded now, and her lips are drawn into a tight line.
I ache to reach for her, to pull her close, but how can I get close to a woman like this? How can I risk my heart again with someone who has a death wish?
We stare at each other, neither of us willing to budge.
Her eyes are alight with fire and sadness, and I’m about to open my mouth to apologize, to pull her to me and find a way to make it okay.
Before I can, she drops the helmet on the seat.
“Thanks for the ride, sheriff. I’ll see you around.”
She turns and strides off across the parking lot.
I’ll see you around.
The words are a blow to my chest, and I struggle to draw in breath. The only woman who I’ve even noticed since the accident, and I watch her walk away from me.
It’s better this way, I tell myself. We’re opposites.
We’d never work. She’s right. She’d get annoyed with me trying to protect her all the time, and I’d worry every time she went to work.
Fucking skydiving instructor, who am I kidding?
It would never work. I can’t protect a woman like that.
Better to let her go and protect my own heart.
But if this is how I protect my heart, why does it feel like it’s breaking in two?