Page 7

Harley

I do exactly as he says, pulling my purse over my head and across my body as he drags me outside onto Main Street, the feeling of relief almost overwhelming me. I honestly didn’t think I was gonna be able to get out of there, and I have to admit, I was so thankful to see Pierce when he walked in the door. It was like I’d found my salvation. Or it had found me. I knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Now we’re out here, though, and he’s leading me over toward his bike, I pull my hand free of his. He turns, a frown forming on his face as he looks down at me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. But I can find my own way home, thanks.”

He glances down the street toward the doctor’s office, his face clearing. “Of course. You’ve got your car.” He turns and sets off. “I’ll walk you down there,” he says over his shoulder, expecting me to follow, and only stopping when he’s realized I’m still standing here, looking at him.

“I don’t have my car here,” I say and he comes back, looking down into my eyes.

“Why not?”

“Because Kaiden picked me up from my place.”

He looks confused. “Then how are you planning to get home?”

“I—I’ll call a cab,” I say, thinking that through as quickly as I can.

Pierce steps closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “You really wanna stand out here, waiting for a cab?”

I guess thinking things through too quickly doesn’t pay, and I shake my head, as I contemplate the prospect of Kaiden coming out and finding me, asking why I left, and dragging me back inside… or worse still, straight to his car, and back to his place.

“N—No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

He takes my hand in his again, but I pull it free. “Stop it, Pierce. I’m not your problem.” I may be grateful that he got me out of there, but that doesn’t entitle him to make assumptions. Not anymore.

“Yes, you are,” he says, raising his voice just slightly. “How do you think your brother and your parents would react if they knew I’d left you here to fend for yourself?”

I stare at him for a moment. So that’s what this is about. Of course. It would be, wouldn’t it? I feel oddly upset about that, although I don’t know why. After all, it’s not as though I mean anything to him. We’re not even friends anymore. But for the sake of his job, and his apartment, and his friendship with Ben, I can’t make this any harder for him, can I? Even if our relationship has changed beyond recognition, he doesn’t deserve to lose everything, just because I got myself into a situation and needed rescuing. And he would lose everything, because he’s right. My parents and Ben would be livid if he left me here… even if I asked him to.

“Okay,” I whisper, and he takes my hand again. This time, I let him pull me over to his bike, although when we get there, he confuses me even more by unlocking his helmet and handing it to me. “What are you doing?” I say, glancing up at him.

“What does it look like?” he says.

“It looks like you’re giving me your helmet.”

“Exactly. Now put it on.”

“But…”

He shakes his head. “I know you’re gonna say you’ve got a helmet of your own just across the street, but I don’t think we have time to waste going to get it, do you?”

“Probably not. But that wasn’t what I was gonna say.”

“Oh?”

“No.” I hold out the helmet to him. “This is yours, Pierce, and you’re gonna need it.”

He shakes his head at me, surprising me as he unzips his jacket, shrugging it off, and handing it to me, too. It’s padded in the back, shoulders and elbows – kinda like his jeans, which may look quite ordinary, but have protection on the knees, hips, and ass. I have identical clothing myself, but that’s at home, and I look up into his dark brown eyes, the lights from the bar making them sparkle.

“You’ll need that, too,” I say, distracted for a second by his tattoos. There’s something about them I’ve always loved… which could be just that they suit him so well. He hasn’t always had them. I can still remember what he looked like before he got them… his skin clear and clean, and utterly divine. When he graduated college and finally came home for the last time, pulling up on his motorcycle and taking off his jacket to reveal what he’d done, I remember thinking how great he looked. He’d taken something that was already perfect, and enhanced it. Naturally, his dad hated it, but I think that made Pierce love his tattoos even more. The patterns are made up of intricate swirls, starting at his wrists and covering the whole of his arms. Because I’ve seen him without a top occasionally, I know they go right up onto his shoulders and meet in the middle of his glorious chest. I’ve often wanted to kiss my way over them… although I mustn’t think like that. Not now…

“I’m fine,” he says, bringing me back to reality, which is probably a good thing in the circumstances, and I drag my eyes away from his arms and up to his face. That doesn’t help much. I still want to kiss him, and I swallow hard, shaking my head.

“No, you’re not. I know how particular you are about wearing the proper clothing when you go out on your bike.”

He steps closer, tilting his head to one side, studying my lips for a moment, and then moving to my eyes. “Nowhere near as particular as I am about you wearing it. Now, put that on,” he says, nodding to the jacket I’m still holding in my hand. “It’s bad enough that you’re wearing standard jeans and sneakers, but I guess we’ll have to make do… unless you want your boyfriend to come out here and find us.”

It seems odd that Kaiden hasn’t come out already, although I’m not complaining..

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, shrugging on Pierce’s jacket, juggling the helmet from one hand to the other.

“Oh? You wanna tell him that?”

“I was trying to.”

I glance down at his jacket, which is enormous on me. It’s more than big enough to accommodate my purse within its folds, and he moves closer still, zipping it up.

“Don’t forget,” he says, still holding the zipper. “I won’t be able to communicate with you, so if you wanna tell me something, tap me on the leg. Okay?”

I nod my head, and he’s about to turn away when he reaches inside the jacket pockets, pulling out his gloves.

“Do you want these?” he asks.

“No. You wear them.”

This time he doesn’t argue, and places them on the tank for a second, watching as I pull on his helmet. I try to fasten it, but I can’t. It works differently to mine, and besides, my hands are shaking.

“Let me,” he says, and I stand still, while he fastens it for me, giving me a thumbs up before he grabs his gloves, pulling them on, then climbs onto the bike, starts the engine and kicks away the side stand. He’s supporting the bike now, and just like I always do, I rest one hand on his shoulder and climb up behind him, sitting with my arms by my sides.

That’s not normal. I usually hold on to his waist, but I don’t feel like doing that tonight, and instead I sit absolutely still, waiting for him to do something… which he does. He turns around, mouthing something at me. I can’t hear him, and I shrug my shoulders, even though I’m fairly sure he’s telling me to hold on. The problem is, I can still hear so many other words… about him and Monica, and how she was ‘the one’. It doesn’t help that I saw them together, laughing and joking, making it clear she was everything he’d ever wanted… just like he said. What makes it even worse was that when he tried to warn me about Kaiden, I was so horrible to him… and that he was right, in every single way. Damn him.

I’m so angry with him still, and to prove the point, I fold my arms across my chest.

He glares at me, shaking his head, and turns around, facing the front again.

There… that told him.

Although I don’t know if I should feel so pleased with myself. I may be experienced at this, but I’ve never ridden without holding on to him… or to whoever is riding the bike, and I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous.

Maybe I should lean forward and rest my hands on the tank. I used to do that with Ben sometimes, because holding my brother wasn’t the same as holding Pierce, and I take a breath, wondering how to do that without leaning in to him too much, when he pops the clutch, making the bike jolt forward by about a foot.

I scream, although I know he won’t have heard me, and throw my arms around his waist, holding on for dear life as he sets off.

He’ll be smiling, probably with the smuggest grin known to man… but frankly, I don’t care.

All I care about is that I’m safe.

Kaiden is behind me, and with any luck, I’ll never have to see him again.

Pierce is taking it slow… much slower than he normally would, but I still don’t let go of him. I don’t even rest my hands on the tank. I just keep a firm hold of him and try to remember not to lean my head on his back like I sometimes to. That would imply we’re friends… and although he’s just rescued me from a fate worse than death, I’m not sure we are.

I’m not sure what he is to me now.

The man I’ll always love?

Probably.

The man for whom I’ll never be ‘the one’?

Absolutely.

With that thought in mind, I lean back, just slightly, putting some space between us. He reaches around with his left hand, patting me on my thigh. That’s his way of asking if I’m okay. He’s done it before, when the comms have failed, but in a way, I’m relieved I can’t communicate. I’ve got no way of saying I’m very far from okay.

He rubs his gloved hand along the outside of my leg, which ought to feel reassuring, but just feels like a massive tease, and I tense against him. I don’t know if he’s aware of that, or maybe if he senses it as a tightening of my thighs against his… which isn’t what I’d intended at all, and I make a conscious effort to relax.

He moves his hand back onto the handlebars, making a left turn, but once we’re upright, and on a nice straight stretch of road, he lowers his left hand again, this time, grabbing my left hand in his, before he raises it up, and holds it over his chest, right against this heart.

He’s never done that before, and I can’t help the gasp that leaves my lips, although I’m relieved he can’t hear it… just like I’m relieved he can’t see the tears in my eyes. How can he do this? How can he play games with me? It’s so unfair… and I pull my hand away, resting it on the tank this time, and letting my right one join it. His shoulders drop, but he doesn’t do anything, other than put his hand back on the handlebars, and speed up slightly, clearly keen to get me home.