“I’m not really sure, considering I still barely know you.”
He winks. “Well, you will after this, so saddle up, we’re going for a ride.”
“It’s midnight, Jack,” I say, stretching. “Where could you possibly want to go at midnight?”
“Come on, Baylee, where’s your sense of adventure? There has to be one in there somewhere.”
It used to be in there. Wild. Crazy. I was as free as they came, until him. Until York. Now I’m just Baylee. I don’t remember who I was. I don’t know how to let go of the fear that keeps its hold around my heart. I don’t know how to let anyone in. Honestly, I’ve forgotten what trust feels like.
“I’m not the girl you think I am, Jack,” I say softly, holding his eyes. “Believe me when I tell you that.”
He keeps my gaze when he says, “I don’t care. You can come and not say a word. You can never laugh. You can be whoever it is you’ve convinced yourself you are. I’m just asking for you to come with me, and give me a chance to be your friend.”
I study him. “That’s it?”
I could swear I see something flash in his eyes, something that looks a little like disappointment, but, instead, he holds his smile and says, “That’s it. Now come on, I don’t get to take the bikes out often, are you up for it or what?”
I stare at the candy-apple-red bike, and my heart stutters. I’ve never been on a bike. Never. Not once. I’ve always wanted to. Who hasn’t? The sleek, gorgeous machine sits perfectly on the curb, screaming to be ridden. I look back to Jack. “Okay,” I say, letting my guard down just a little. “I’ll come with you. But if you kill me on that thing, I’ll come back to haunt you.”
He laughs. “Sounds like a fair deal. Here.”
He tosses me a helmet, and I catch it, staring down at the ugly, chunky thing. “I’m supposed to wear this? I feel like my head won’t even be able to hold it up.”
He chuckles. “I promise it will, and I promise you’ll look amazing in it.”
“Now I know you’re lying.”
He grins, pulls a helmet on and turns, throwing a leg over the bike. God he looks good on it, his lean, muscled body just seemingly right at home on the black leather seat. He crooks a finger at me, and hesitantly I move towards the bike. “You promise you’re not a serial killer, rapist, or any other such scum of the earth?”
He puts both hands up, holding the bike up just with his legs on the ground. “I promise. A stalker is the only thing I am, and you can’t say you didn’t know that. I’ve been fairly honest about it.”
I want to laugh.
God, it feels good to want to laugh.
“Okay, but just know, I can fight. I might be little, but I will beat you if I have to.”
He nods, and I can see his eyes flash with humour, even beneath his helmet. “I’ll keep note of that.”
“Okay.”
I tuck my phone and keys into my pocket and climb onto the back of the bike, putting myself as far back from him as possible without it seeming like I’m purposely trying to not touch him. But truthfully, I am. I can smell him, even from here, and he smells amazing. His body seems bigger this close up, and it scares me. Everything about him scares me.
“Arms around my waist,” he says, reaching back and tugging my arm forward, forcing my body closer until I’m basically pressed against him.
He reaches back, taking my other arm and pulling it around him, too. I’ve got no choice. He’s going to make me hang on.
“I know it’s weird,” he says, his voice full of way too much humour. “But you have to hold on, otherwise you might come off, and we don’t want you haunting me, now do we?”
I smile beneath my helmet.
He’s smooth—there’s no denying that.
I hang on, even though everything inside me is screaming that this is a bad idea and I should get off this bike. Everything except my heart, the tiny piece of it still intact, is peeking out and begging me to just give this a go. Just one chance. I might just be surprised. Maybe Jack can heal the hurt.
I push that part back down.
But I keep hanging on.
I need a friend; above all else, I need a friend. Someone who doesn’t know. Someone who is looking at me through innocent eyes. Someone who is just going to accept me for the person I am right now, and no one else. Yes, I need a friend like that. I came here for a new life, and that’s what I’m going to try and do. Even if it’s hard.
And it is hard.
It terrifies me.
But I have to at least try.
~*~*~*~
It takes me a few minutes to get myself feeling comfortable on the back of the bike, mostly because I’m nervous about my hands being wrapped around what is, without a doubt, one of the best looking men I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. His body is hard and warm, and it feels incredible pressed against my chest.
Safe, even.
When I finally ease up and exhale the breath it feels like I’ve been holding for more than a few minutes, I realise how incredible this feeling is. The bike hums beneath me, rumbling with an angry, yet beautiful sound. The road is quiet, it’s dark and there is no one around. It’s just Jack and me.
And nothing else.
This is what I imagine being free feels like.
Just the bike, the road, and the man that makes your heart skip a beat.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the worries of the world disappear from my chest. They live there most days, like a weight, wearing me down until it feels like I can’t cope any longer. I’ve forgotten how it feels to not have them there, to just feel free. To breathe without pain.
Here, on this bike, it feels like nothing can touch me.
I close my eyes, and for a moment, I just let the sensation take over. I let it penetrate deep, relishing in it for as long as I possibly can before reality comes crashing back down. And it will—the second Jack drops me home, my reality will come flooding back. But for now, in this moment, it’s just me, Jack and this bike.
And nothing or no one else.
It’s a moment I’ll never forget.
Jack comes to a stop after about twenty minutes, turning onto a smooth but dirt road. He goes slowly down it, and I realize we’re going into some sort of bushland. He keeps riding until we come to a clearing and an empty parking lot. A look out of some sort, perhaps? He stops the bike, and with a long exhale, I climb off and pull my helmet from my head, placing it on the seat.