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Chapter twenty-four

Ashia

‘Fall’- Palisades

Three Days Later

I cannot get him out of my mind. Even while cutting Charlie’s hair, our conversations today revolve around Damien. He came in and started talking about Lucille, but that quickly evolved into him asking me if I've been seeing someone. Apparently, I ‘look happier’ today, and he wanted to know if it was finally because of a man. So, because it’s Charlie, I told him a little about Damien, and told him he was the guy in the waiting room when he made me sing. That, of course, led to Charlie asking for a ‘thank you’ because obviously hearing me sing made him fall in love with me.

Such a corny bastard.

I didn’t tell him about everything, obviously, but he asked me what I like about him and what changed my mind. Clearly, I didn't mention the fact that he stalks me, but I was surprised to tell him what I like about him. There’s actually a lot that I like about him. He's very considerate, and surprisingly patient. He knows what he wants and goes after it. Which I admire to an extent. Everything he does, he does it with passion. He feels everything intensely, and that contradicts with my unwillingness to feel anything.

After singing for Charlie, he and Jamie start to leave when he turns back to me and grabs my hand.

“When you fall in love my dear, promise me that you'll fall as hard as you can.” I scrunch my eye brows at him in confusion. “Life is too short when it comes to love, take it from me. All of the quirks and habits, and other things you don’t like about yourself, you let him love them. Do not adjust yourself for anyone.” My chest warms at his words.

A part of me thinks I don’t appreciate Charlie enough. He’s been my client for years, and he’s been with me through some of the worst times of my life. His support and friendship are some of the only things that got me through what should have killed me. He also had a rough life, and as much as I know he loved his wife, their relationship was still rocky at best. Charlie has admitted to making a lot of mistakes, and when we’re able to talk alone and be serious, he expresses how much he regrets his past actions. So, when he says this, I know he’s speaking with truth. I smile gratefully as I put my other hand on top of his.

“If he’s the one, then don’t you waste a second of it. Give in and let him love you. You deserve feeling that love every moment possible. Don’t be old and regretful like me.” I nod my head at him and hug him. Not wanting to tell him that I’m not sure I would call it love. Damien swears he doesn’t even believe in it. Yet, everything he does is the epitome of it.

“I don’t think it’s to that point yet Charlie, but I’ll definitely take your advice.” Pulling back, I can’t help but squeeze his shoulders a little. Wanting him to know that even though he’s made a lot of mistakes, that I’ll always be in his corner.

I walk behind them as they leave to lock the shop door for the day, when I see a motorcycle pull up and park in front of us. The bike is astonishing. It has the look of a timeless, traditional Harley, with almost a vintage feel, though it’s obviously a newer model. Curvy and smooth. All black with chrome trim. Clean and polished, with a plush and sturdy pillion seat, encased in black leather. It’s large, and extremely intimidating. Something a modern warrior would ride. I’d be more afraid of the beast of a vehicle if I didn’t recognize the tall, tattooed, muscled man getting off of it. If I thought this man turned me on before, the sight of him on that bike only proved how mediocre my thoughts were. I can already feel the wetness spread between my legs.

“Right on time, big fella!” Charlie yells at him. How did he know that was Damien? He barely got a good look at him the evening I met him, and there’s no way he just assumed this man on the bike was mine. Charlie holds a thumbs up to him as he continues to waddle his way to the car, and I can’t help but giggle and roll my eyes.

“How’s it going Charlie?” Damien asks him, his voice muffled by his helmet. “Another hot date?”

“You got it young man!” He yells back as he carefully gets into Jamie’s car. I look over to him just as he takes off his helmet and flicks his hair around using the force from his neck.

God, I love his hair. It’s so flowy, and straight. Very soft, and the dark color conflicts with his bright eyes so nicely. He then takes off his leather jacket, showcasing the hard, muscled torso under his soft shirt. I don’t normally see him while there’s still daylight out, and I’m certainly not complaining. His eyes look brighter, and his smooth skin is a warmer shade. Calling out to me as he stands there, looking like a king.

How can his face look so sharp, but so smooth at the same time? His face is strong, and his jawline almost steals my breath every time I imagine kissing under it. Why does his t-shirt have to be so tight? I mean, it’s not too tight, it’s just too tight for my body to be able to resist him. He always wears the softest material, yet it clings to his hardened muscles like leather. At random times throughout the day, I’ll catch myself imagining running my hands up, down, and over his torso.

“I’ll help you clean up, then we’re going out.” His command pulls me from my inner gawking. He puts his jacket on top of his bike, along with his helmet.

“Are you asking me on a date?” I playfully, yet hatefully, ask him.

“No, I’m just taking you on one. It wasn’t a question, little wolf.” I suck my lips between my teeth to try and control the grin sprouting on my face, but as I look back over to him. He tilts his head and grins at me first.

Damn it, he caught me.

I open the door wide for him. Gesturing for him to come inside, but he walks up, holds the door himself, and gently moves his hand forward, leading me to walk inside instead.

He helps me clean up, and I’m slightly surprised at the fact that I don’t have to tell him how to do anything. His movements showed no hesitation. Leading him to put things away exactly where they go and using the correct sanitizing agents. Of course, he’s watched me that in depth. At this point, I’d expect nothing less from him.

We walk upstairs for me to get dressed, and on the way up, I try to think of what to wear. He didn’t say what kind of date. Do I need to look dressed up? I hope not. I’m not even sure if I have anything like that. Casual? And if so, how casual? Definitely not sweatpants appropriate. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I’ve ever been on a real date.

Cooper took me to the movies a few times, and I think to dinner once. But this dinner was with some of his friends, and he barely paid attention to me. Anytime we were out, if I acted out of turn or one of his friends looked at me the wrong way, I was punished for it. He would blame me and say I gave people reasons to stare, and occasionally would accuse me of wanting to cheat on him with his friends.

I need to get him out of my head, for good. I know that. I know deep down that Damien is nothing like Cooper, and that I need to learn to trust him. There’s no doubt that he would keep me physically safe, but it’s my heart and my mind that I’m worried about.

Why can’t I be a normal girl and just get ready?

Peeking through the crack of my door, I sneak a look out of the bedroom to see what he’s wearing. Thinking that will give me some type of hint as to what he has planned.

He’s wearing darker jeans than normal, and a plain black T-shirt. Instead of his normal boots, he’s wearing thicker bike boots today, and other than that, I don’t have much to go off of. Fuck it, I'm going to wear what I want. If he likes me as much as he says he does, then he can just deal with it.

I slip on my torn black skinny jeans, my sleep token t-shirt Serena bought me, and my ‘Stranger Things’ Hellfire Club Van’s, that Serena also bought me. That girl spoils me sometimes. Even with our tastes being so different, we know exactly what each other likes. Probably because our appearance and interests are almost polar opposites.

As if she knew I was thinking of her, I check my phone to see that she texted me.

Serena:

Hey girl! What you doing?

Getting ready for ‘a date’ apparently. You?

A date? Stalker boy is actually going to take you out in public?

That’s what he says.

Hmmmm. Hopefully he'll get you off in this crowd too.

Ser!

It wouldn’t be the first time! You remind that ass-hat that I watch true crime, and I'll come after him if he hurts you. I may not get away with his murder, but I'll get a good head start. Send me your location?

Yes MOM I'll send it before we leave

I giggle to myself as I put my phone in my pocket. She’d try to fight a four-hundred-pound man if I’d let her. She has no real idea how small and fragile she is.

Walking out of my room, I take the time to brush my hair out, and my gaze is immediately drawn to him as I fully emerge. He’s sitting on the couch waiting for me. Looking over me hungrily as he studies how I look. Dragging his eyes from the top of my head, all the way to my shoes. The old nervousness begins creeping down my body, and every ounce of confidence I was feeling before disappears.

Does he not like what I'm wearing? Does he not like it when I’m not in either my work clothes or nothing at all? His eyes lingered on my pants longer than anywhere else. It’s the holes in my jeans. He must think there’s too much skin showing. The highest one comes up pretty high on my thigh, and I didn’t think about that when I put them on. Damien is extremely possessive, and I don’t want him to get mad at me if someone looks at me the wrong way while we’re out.

I shudder slightly at the thought of what would happen in the past if Cooper didn’t approve of what I wore. The jolt of slaps and piercing insults of how I was a worthless tramp resurface in my mind. Even memories of the night he died replay the words he spit in my face.

“I'm sorry, I’ll change. I won’t take long.” My voice trembles more than I want it to. So, I sharply turn to avoid anymore looks from Damien and head back into my room, but he stops me.

“Come here.” He says sharply, causing me to flinch. I don’t mean to jump at his words, but my nerves are already on full throttle. His tone wasn’t harsh, or mean, and I know I need to just calm the fuck down, but it’s much easier said than done. I slowly turn and stare at the floor, contemplating if I should listen, or beg him to let me change. “Come here, baby.” He says a little softer as he sits up, resting his elbows on his knees.

I walk over to him, unable to meet his gaze. Taking one shaky step at a time until I stand between his legs.

“Sit down.” He says quietly. My initial reaction kicks in, and I gently fall to my knees. Feeling his confused stare, even though I’m not looking up at him.

Is this wrong? This is what Cooper insisted on when I had to prove how much I cared for him, regardless of what I was wearing. That was always a burning question in my mind. If I was so bad at sucking dick, why did he demand it so often and under the dumbest pretenses?

“On your ass, Ashia, and put your back towards me.” He slightly chuckles as he practically whispers it.

More shakily than I expected, I sit on my ass facing away from him as instructed. I don’t know what to expect. He hasn’t hurt me yet. I shouldn’t be so afraid of him, but my body is just reacting in a way I can’t control. The warmth from his body is usually comforting, and even now, I don’t feel any anger seething out of him like I would from Cooper.

However, my anxiety is running so fast it’s refusing to let the warmth in this time. I feel my eyes burn as tears try and creep their way in. My mind believes he wouldn’t hurt me, but my shaky limbs and anxiety filled chest tell me otherwise.

To my surprise, he lightly grabs the brush out of my hands and begins grazing it through my hair. Ensuring he’s being careful enough not to push on my scalp too hard or tear my hair. I shakily inhale as the comforting feeling tries to take over my senses. Forcing my body to relax and causing my nerves to come to a screeching halt.

“I don’t care what you wear, baby. I want you to wear whatever you feel comfortable in. Whatever you feel beautiful in. Me? I think you look sexy as fuck, but I want you to feel like you . No matter what that looks like. If another man can’t control himself, that’s a lesson I need to teach him. Not you, little wolf.” A tear falls from the water pooling in my eyes and rolls down my cheek as he runs his fingers through my hair and drags them across my scalp in a loving manner.

Tingles ripple their way down my neck and back, only serving to prolong my relaxation. Once all of the knots are gone from my hair, he gently puts a few fingers under my chin and lifts it up so I can look up at him as he wipes the lone tear with the pad of his thumb.

“I told you Ashia, you get every choice other than being with me. I won’t make you suffer for making them.” He reaches down and kisses my forehead. Allowing his lips to linger there for longer than necessary. “I figured you would be nervous and wouldn’t want to try to eat yet. So, I made you a smoothie. It’s on the counter. If you get hungry for real food you make me pull over and stop somewhere, okay?” I nod my head in his hands before he weaves his arms around my body and stands up, dragging me up with him and setting me on my feet like a rag doll. He then turns me in one smooth motion to face. “Are you ready?” He asks me.

“Sure.” The word slides between my lips so quietly, I’m not even sure he heard me. My mind is nothing but a fog of awe as I stare into his endearing, ocean blue eyes. Did this man really just brush my hair, and make me something because he knew how I’d react? That’s very…sweet. This man of a man really just sat me down and brushed my hair? It felt soothing. I'm not sure besides hair classes in school I’ve ever had anyone else brush my hair. It felt…nice. Good, even.

He leads me out of the apartment by placing his hand in the lower curve of my back. Gently pushing me forward as if I was about to perform something in front of a crowd and needed confidence. We make our way outside and up to his bike. Which is even more intimidating up close. It’s height comes up above my hips, and now I'm terrified to get on it.

I watch as he grabs the second helmet attached to the back of the bike and walks up to me.

“Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle before?” He asks, and all I can do is shake my head. “Just try to keep your weight centered. You can hold onto me if that helps.” He pushes my hair behind my ears with one hand and then fits the helmet over my head. It’s thick and hard, yet the inside is soft and comforting. Like a pillow was being squished on the sides of my skull. I feel like a bobble head with the extra weight, but I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry. “How does that feel? Snug?” He adjusts the buckle under my chin, and makes sure it’s on tight enough. “I tried to get one that looked like it’d fit.” My eyes snap back to him in wonder. Get one? He didn’t already have this?

“You bought this for me?” He smiles at my innocent tone.

“Of course, I did. I’m not letting my girlfriend ride without a helmet.” I look at his eyes through the helmet, and even with the tint partially blocking the swirling colors, he looks so sincere.

“It fits great, thank you.” My voice is now muffled by the helmet, but I think he heard me.

“You’re welcome, baby girl.” He kisses the top of the helmet and grabs his jacket. To my surprise, he turns back to me and holds the jacket up. “It’s going to be chilly tonight.” He slides his jacket around me and over my arms. Settling me in the comfort of his warmth and scent. The leather is a nice addition, and I don’t resist the urge to bring it closer to my nose and inhale deeply. My heartbeat instantly begins to slow as the heat from his sweet gestures takes over my body.

Walking over to the bike, he sits first. Throwing his large, toned leg over the seat, and then holding his arm out. I grab onto his firm bicep and throw my leg over the bike. Mimicking his movements and nestling in the middle. He puts my smoothie, that I completely forgot about, into the side bag, and once I see he’s getting ready to start the bike I wrap my arms around him. Interlocking my hands at his stomach and squeezing so hard that my knuckles turn white.

It’s almost as if it startles him, the way he pauses, but then he gently rubs my hands with one of his large ones a couple of times and starts the bike up. The rumbling shakes my entire body, and my stomach along with it. I’ve never felt such a strong engine directly beneath me, and it’s almost too intimidating to bear.

I lay my head on his back to ground myself to something equally as strong when he reaches into his pocket, grabs his phone, and taps on it. An endearingly aggressive rock song plays through small speakers in my helmet, and I’m assuming his as well. Giving a soothing distraction and ambiance to our ride.

When we jerk away, I feel my heart try to plummet, and my grip on him tightens. As if in this moment nothing could protect me better than he could. Not even the helmet. The first minute of our drive is terrifying. Every turn he makes, I feel like I'm going to fall off. Leaning side to side with the bike is one of the most unnerving experiences, and it is definitely not helping the uneasiness of my nerves. Once we get to longer stretches of road though, it’s actually soothing. The rumbling doesn’t feel as intense, and my stomach no longer feels like it’s either in my throat or my ass.

I can still smell him through the breeze, and his warmth on my body engulfs me like a comforting blanket. I press myself into him more as the breeze gets cooler from the sun setting, and I feel as he ever so gently leans back to lessen the distance even more. My stomach drops a little as he takes one hand off of the handles, but my comfort is restored when he puts his hand on top of mine, caressing the back of it and down my arm as he continues to drive.

It’s not too long before there’s nothing but trees and corn fields overtaking the backdrop. I had almost forgotten how quickly the city ends and agriculture begins here. The tall buildings are replaced by the view of the mountains, and there’s not fire hydrants or meticulously placed shrubbery. Just grass, crops, and open fields. Its peaceful, and the fresh air is a renewing force for my lungs.

After about another ten minutes, he turns down a dirt road that leads up to the mountains and into the trees. I look over and up to his face, and he looks so menacing, so alluring, in the blue toned shadows. The reflection of the trees is speeding through his visor, almost to where I can’t see where he’s looking. Yet I feel his eyes on mine. This man is that enraptured in me that he can’t even focus while he drives this pristine motorcycle, and that causes the butterflies in my stomach to somersault.

Looking off to the left, I notice a sea of cars and trucks, with lots of people walking away from us and towards what looks like two big stages in the distant, hacked down corn field. Spotlights and speakers are hung up high, and among the sea of vehicles are perfectly placed food trucks and seating. The realization of what he’s taking me to breeds a different electricity in my veins, and I almost can’t contain my excitement.

We pull up to park the bike, and I almost fall from hopping off so quickly, to be sure the sign says what I think it does. I jerk my helmet off to take in the large, spray painted “Battle of the Bands” sign in all of its glory. It’s been a tradition in the city for years that local bands, and some larger bands that come through town, have pop-up concerts. Rarely is there one anymore, much less two bands playing. The last ‘Battle of the Bands’ that happened was five years ago, and I missed ‘I Prevail’ and a local band duke it out.

“Are you serious!?” I yell out in exasperation and allow the full smile that has taken over my face to shine. “I never hear about these until the next morning, how did you know!?” He walks up to me, takes his helmet off and leans into my ear.

“I'm DH baby, I know everything that happens in and around this city.” He kisses my cheek. “I thought you'd enjoy it from your Spotify playlists.” Is this man ever going to stop surprising me? I'm going to take a wild guess and say no. He says I'm his, so you would think that meant that he wouldn’t have to try and win me over, yet he continuously tries to do so. Whether it be continuous flowers, breakfast and coffee in the mornings, late night comforts, and now a concert date? Every night since my taste in coffee escalated, he’s told me about what he did for work that day, how they operate and what they plan to do. He’s opening up to me with every gesture, and I'm taking it all in like a greedy child.

“This is amazing! Thank you. So, so much.” I look up to his gaze, and it’s like his eyes would smile for him, if he didn’t already have a large smirk on his face.

“You never have to thank me. For anything. Okay?” I sheepishly nod my head, and after he puts our helmets down on the bike, he places his hand on the curve of my back once again, and leads us towards the crowd.