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I’m not entirely sure what to say to him after our last interaction where he basically told me to fuck off. No, actually, he did say that, didn’t he? My heart goes wild at the sight of him this close. Do you notice the beat? What about the flush to my cheeks, the knot in my throat and the shake of my body? All indications he still, after everything, controls me regardless of my circumstances.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his eyes on the pavement. His voice is soft, and I know what he’s really asking,“Are you still marrying him?”He wouldn’t be Roan if he wasn’t completely cryptic to the point you needed a degree to dissect his words.
“Hey.” Guilt tugs at my insides as I return the greeting. I shift my eyes to my car, to the street, and then back to Roan. The emotions I’ve been trying so hard to push aside kick up. I fight back tears and shift my weight. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes lift to mine, and I want to gasp because they’re the blue I crave so desperately. The color that sends my soul soaring and my heart bursting into flames. Swallowing, he draws in a breath. No answer is given.
“Do you want to go to dinner?” Oh my God, why did I say that? Invite him to dinner? That’s like inviting the devil into your bed. Shifting my stance, I run a hand through my hair in an attempt to act normal. Doesn’t work.
He smirks. As if he knows the hold he has on me. “I have something else in mind.”
I glance at the bike again. “What?” Do you hear the nerves in my voice? You should. I can barely push the words past my lips.
“Honey.” He tips his head toward his bike on the street. He waits, his intensity growing, his feet shifting and suddenly he’s a breath away, unwilling to give me space. Staring into his eyes stirs familiar feelings I can’t, nor do I want to ignore. “All we have to do is get gas.”
He knew my weakness before my lips separated and gave it to him, but then I thought, is it really that simple? Nothing in our past has ever been simple. Truth be told, when it comes to Roan, I never think things through. I jump and always pay the consequences. Look at our past.
Drawing in a breath, I close my eyes and think about my answer. Okay, let’s be real for a minute. You and I both know when I gave Roan an invitation, that was my you-better-buck-up-boy speech, even if I didn’t say it. Could this be his attempt at righting all our wrongs? And let’s say hypothetically, I’d need to hear his side before making such a big decision, right? Only I’d already made the decision. The wedding was in three days.
I think he can sense my nerves, or the insane dilemma going on inside my head because he steps closer and dips his head to catch my stare. “Do you have a passport?”
I stare at him, then his bike, unable to make sense of his question. “Not with me.” Why the heck would I need a passport?
He glances over my shoulder at the street behind me and then back to me. “Where is it?”
By the slow smile ghosting over his lips, it dawns on me that he’s trying to kidnap me. “Roan,” I warn. “What are you doing?”
He reaches for my hand, our fingers brush and that familiar electricity shoots through my entire body. A reminder that there’s something here, a connection we can’t ignore. He lifts my chin with his fingertips and I helplessly gaze up at broken blue. “Don’t marry him.” The words, the tone, he’s not begging, no, he wouldn’t. He’s asking.
“Then give me a reason not to.”
I DON’T TELL anyone I’m leaving. I can’t. We get gas, I grab my passport from my condo, leave a note for Agustin telling him I’m staying with my parents for the weekend, and Roan and I leave town. With my head pressed against Roan’s back, I listen to the rumbling of the bike between my legs and the feeling of his chest rising and falling for hours. When the sky turns from blue to the darkness I’m familiar with, we cross the border into Baja.
We end up getting a room at the Rancho Pescadero with little effort. Roan stays in Baja a lot so I imagine he knows everyone here. And I’m not wrong. They know him by name and cater to him. In the lobby, Roan nods to the beach and reaches for my hand. “Walk with me?”
The breeze off the Pacific is warm, the scent of saltwater thick in the air and on my skin. In the distance, waves crash against the white shoreline. Taking my hand, he leads me to the beach. For a while, longer than I want, no words are said between us. Though I enjoy the silence and the time with him spent not arguing, I can’t keep from making conversation with him. What is this? I told him to give me a reason, but what would that be? What did he have in mind? Sex? Shit, the instant I let that thought slip into my mind it tugs at all the right places leaving a warmth spread through me. I absolutely can’t have sex with him. No matter what, don’t let that happen. I’m counting on you, dear friend.
Lucky for me, a wave crashing against the shoreline brings me back to the present.
“When do you leave for Austria?” I ask, trying to keep my hair from my eyes when the wind kicks up. “You’re going back, right?”
Walking barefoot beside me, he runs his hand along his jaw, his eyes narrowing at the shore. He shakes his head, contemplating his response. “I’ll start training in January so I have time. I have a few races lined up before that.” Looking over at him, I notice his brooding gaze moves to mine, his shoulder bumps mine. “When’s the big day?”
Do you notice the way he saysbig day? He says the words like it’s doomsday. In reality, I guess to him it would be. “Saturday night.”
He smirks, and I can’t see the expression on his face well enough to know the emotions in it, but his words give me a glimpse into his thoughts. “IfI take you back.” He stops walking and stares at me. “I haven’t decided if I will. Might just keep you forever.”
Do you notice the way forever rolls off his lips seductively? Yeah, me too.
“Roan.” I let go of his hand. “You know I have to go back. And so do you. You have to finish out the X-Treme series and training for Erzberg. You also have the X Games coming up.”
Okay, well now he knows you stalk him. Awesome.
“So,” he draws out, nodding. “You’re keeping tabs on me?”
I roll my eyes dramatically, my eyes on my feet. The way the hot sand feels between my toes is warm, much like Roan’s touch. “You know I always have.”
Nodding, he sighs. It draws my attention toward him. I can’t tell if he’s upset by it or simply annoyed. Maybe both. His eyes give away his next question before he asks it. But then the words come. “Why him?”