by Ellie Wade
The corners of my lips turn up. Everett and Asher have a party almost every weekend, and we never know who’s going to be there. They invite the most random groups of people sometimes.
“Who’s going to be there?” I ask.
“Well, they say, ‘close friends.’” She raises her fingers in air quotes. “But what that actually means, who knows? Anyone from Everett’s nerdy college buddies, to the meat heads at Asher’s gym, to the whole staff of the Ann Arbor Costco could show up. It’s anyone’s guess.”
“That could work, though. After the crazy Saturday I’m bound to have with half of our inventory MIA, I’ll probably need a few drinks.”
“Good!” Cassie grins. “It’ll be fun. And I might have a book for you to beta read by this weekend, too. Tannon’s almost done.”
“Really? Already?”
Tannon is a romance writer, and I get to read her books before she publishes them to give her a heads-up on any plot holes, inconsistencies I find, or changes I would suggest. Though, I rarely have any advice for her as her books are already amazing by the time they’re sent to me.
“Yep. She’s been a writing machine as of late. I think this one is going to be really good, too.”
“Ahh.” I clap my hands together. “I can’t wait. I need a spicy escape from life at the moment.”
She scrunches her nose. “So no one since Beau, huh?”
“Nope. No one since Beau, and let me tell you, I miss having someone. I know I shouldn’t. I should be content on my own, and I am. But it’s nice being in a relationship, having that person to come home to and share your day with.”
“And sleep with.” Cassie quirks a brow.
“That too.” I chuckle.
I grab a coffee cup in each hand, raising them toward Cassie. “Thanks for these.”
“Anytime. That’s what I’m here for.” She stands from the table. “I’ll see you Saturday night?”
“Yes, unless I’m swarmed by angry bargain shoppers and perish.”
She laughs. “Always so dramatic.”
“Always.”
Exiting the coffee shop, I cross the street to where my vehicle is parked, unlock the driver’s side door, and set my coffee cups in the holders in front of the middle console. Sliding into my seat, I close my door with a happy sigh. Good coffee makes everything better.
Dua Lipa’s latest song sounds from the speakers as I push the button to start the engine.
“Yes, please.” I turn up the volume and roll down the windows before pulling onto the street. There’s something about singing at the top of my lungs with the wind whipping my hair around that makes everything better.
A few miles down the road, I’m belting out the lyrics to the song when my car stutters and shuts off.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” I shriek as I guide my Jeep toward the side of the road, my heart pumping.
Once I’ve safely pulled off the road, I turn down the music and push the keyless start button, again and again. Nothing happens.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I hit the steering wheel with the palms of my hands as tears come to my eyes. “Just perfect,” I grumble.
The stress of the day engulfs me, and my tears start flowing. Any other day, my car dying on me wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it had to happen today. Resting my arms over the steering wheel, I press my forehead against my arm and cry, a physical release of the stress from this horrendous day.
“Are you okay?” A familiar voice startles me.
I whip my head up with a yelp and turn toward my open window, where Ollie stands with a front row seat to my meltdown.
“Um, what are you doing here?” I drag the top of my hand across my cheeks to wipe the tears.
“I was riding past and saw you parked here. Figured I’d check on you.”
“How’d you know it was me?” I sniff.
“Pretty sure you’re the only one in Ann Arbor with a sky blue Jeep with sea turtle stickers and a license plate plaque that says, ‘Hit me baby one more time.’” He smirks.
I shrug with a small smile. “Well, I love turtles, and I love Britney. What can I say?”
“So what’s going on?” he nods toward the front of my Jeep.
“I don’t know. It just stopped working.”
“Pop your hood,” he tells me.
I do, and he makes his way around to the front of the vehicle and opens the hood. “Try to start it up,” he calls.
I press the button, and nothing happens. He doesn’t say anything else as he fiddles around beneath the hood, eventually closing it and wiping his hands on his jeans.
“Well, your timing belt broke, which is why your car probably stopped in the first place. But I think your alternator might be shot, too. I’ll have to test it to be sure.”
“Perfect.” I sigh.
“Roll your windows up and lock it. I’ll call someone to have it towed to my place where I can fix it for you.”
“I thought you just did bikes.”
“Well, usually, but I can do cars. Come on, I’ll take you home.” He pulls his cell from his pocket.
“Who are you calling?”
“Bill.”
“Who’s Bill?”
Ollie looks amused. “A friend.”
“From NA?”
He raises a brow. “I wouldn’t know since the ‘A’ stands for anonymous.”
I drop my chin. “I’m sorry. I knew that. It’s not like it matters, anyway. I was just making conversation. I’m sorry. Tell Bill thank you.”
Ollie takes a few steps from my door and turns away from the road as he starts talking into his phone. I roll up my windows, collect my purse, and throw my keys and phone inside. Stepping down from the Jeep, I press the keyless lock and look behind my car. My eyes bulge when I’m reminded that Ollie rides a motorcycle.
Crap.
Dropping my chin to my chest, I take in my form-fitting pencil skirt.
Ollie walks up beside me. “Ready?”
“How am I supposed to ride on that? I’m wearing a skirt. Maybe I should get an Uber?”
He chuckles. “Don’t be silly. You’ll be fine. Just hike it up.”
He steps toward the bike and comes back with a helmet. Placing it on my head, he adjusts the chin strap to tighten it, gently wiping a lock of hair out of my face. The caring motion causes a chill to run down my spine, and I swallow.
“Where do you live?” he asks as he continues to make sure the helmet is on just right.
I tell him my address, and I realize in all the years I’ve known Ollie, he’s never been to my place nor have I been to his. We only see each other when we’re with Alma. I feel like I know Ollie so well, and at the same time, this is the first time I’ve seen him outside the presence of our mutual friend. It feels strange, exuberating, and oddly…wrong.
When he’s satisfied with the fit of the helmet on my head, he takes my purse and locks it into a storage compartment behind the seat of his bike and then straddles the seat.
“Hop on.” He grins.
“You gave me your helmet,” I say.
“Yeah.”
“But what about you?”
“You’re only a few miles away. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s not safe,” I offer.
I know that it’s not a law that motorcyclists wear a helmet in Michigan, but I honestly hate that it’s not. I get nervous when I see people riding motorcycles at fast speeds without one.
“It’s fine. I promise. Plus, if it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go.”
My mouth falls open at his statement.
“I’m kidding.” He laughs. “Get on.”
I shimmy my skirt up until it’s barely covering my crotch and swing my bare leg over the back of the seat. My heels flounder around at my sides until I find the small footpegs. I feel, and I’m sure look, like a complete idiot.
“Hold on,” Ollie calls over his shoulder as he starts up the bike.
I look around frantically for
something to grasp onto and don’t see anything.
Ollie reaches back for my hand and pulls my arm around his waist. My other arm circles to meet it, though hesitant as if I shouldn’t be holding him this way. The entirety of my front is pressed up against his back as it vibrates in another laugh, and he pulls out onto the road.
For the first few minutes of the ride, I cling to Ollie in terror, hiding my face between his shoulder blades the best I can with this clunky helmet. He squeezes my hand as if to say that it’s okay, the thoughtful movement calms me and I lift my face from his back and look around me. With a few deep breaths, and the wind in my face, the fear starts to subside, and a smile finds my lips.
The night air is warm against my bare skin, and the sun is starting to set in the distance. I bet it’s beautiful out past the city where the colors of the sunset meet the grassy horizon.
He starts to slow as we approach my street.
I lean in toward his ear. “Can we drive a little longer outside of town?” I say loudly.
“Yeah, absolutely,” he calls back and picks up speed, passing my street.
We drive until the neighborhoods filled with houses are replaced by fields of tall corn.
I’ve never been on a motorcycle, but now I understand the appeal of them. There’s something about the rhythmic vibration of the engine, the wind hitting my skin and whipping around my body, and the blurred world that brings me peace after the day from hell. I’m no longer thinking about missing shipments or car problems but the simple sensations of this ride. It’s so freeing.
We’re the only ones on a long, straight patch of road between fields of cornstalks. I garner the courage to release my grip on Ollie and extend my arms out to the sides. Closing my eyes, I drop my head back as we speed across the pavement, and it almost feels like I’m flying as the air hits my arms and my hair flies out behind me.
With a content sigh, I wrap my arms around Ollie and allow my body to lean into him as he uses an empty four-way stop intersection to turn around so that we’re heading back toward town.
Ollie’s hard abdomen muscles taunt me from beneath his shirt, and his smell hits me as I press against him. His scent is a delicious combination of laundry soap, car oil, and seduction. By the time he’s pulling into my neighborhood, every part of me is vibrating, and I’m a strange mixture of free, happy, and crazy turned on.
The bike slows as it pulls up my drive before Ollie turns off the engine and hits the kickstand out with his foot. He slides off the seat, standing to the side of me.
I lean to my side in an attempt to get a good view of my shoe since my heel seems to be stuck by the peg. I pull my heel free and turn back to Ollie. His face seems flushed, his cheeks carry slightly more pink than usual, which must be a result of the ride and the wind hitting his face. And yet…there’s something in his eyes that I can’t place as his gaze holds mine.
My mind, or perhaps ego, or maybe that small part of my heart that holds on to hope for happy endings for fruitless crushes wants to think that he’s looking at me with admiration. I can’t help that I want him to find me attractive. I want to be what he desires, though I know we’re not meant to be. I shouldn’t crave these thoughts from him. I know this. And yet I do.
He pulls his bottom lip through his teeth as his stare roams down my body. It’s then I realize that my skirt has ridden up and rests bunched up above my hips, leaving my pink lacy thong in full view.
“Oh crap!” I squeal as I tug at my skirt in an attempt to cover myself, my position on the bike seat not cooperating with me.
Ollie chuckles and circles my waist in his grasp to lift me off the seat.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, I have myself appropriately covered. I press my palms against the fabric, smoothing it down. “I told you this wasn’t a motorcycle-friendly outfit.” I attempt a laugh.
“I don’t know,” Ollie says, his voice husky. “I think you looked pretty good.”
“Well, yeah. I always look good.” I shoot him a wink. “But still…not appropriate. Next time I ride on your bike, I’ll be wearing jeans.”
“So there’s going to be a next time?” He quirks a brow, his gaze playful.
“Oh. Well, probably not, but if there is…” And I’m stumbling over my words yet again. I am one of the most confident people I know until I’m around Oliver Hale. His presence turns me into this thirteen-year-old girl who’s yet to master the ability to talk in complete sentences to those of the opposite sex. I hate what he does to me.
I blow out a breath. “I should go but thank you so much. Do you have my number?”
He nods, his eyes assessing.
“Well, please text when you know what’s going on with my Jeep. If it ends up being something you can’t fix, I can have it towed somewhere else.”
“I can fix it.”
“I should probably give you money.” I remember my purse in the back cargo area of the bike.
“Nah, I don’t need anything right now.” Ollie retrieves my purse and hands it to me.
“Okay.” I nod, clutching my purse to my chest.
His hands reach toward my face, and I freeze. He unbuckles the helmet and pulls it off my head. The corner of his lip quirks up, and he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
“See ya later, Quinn.”
“Bye.”
My statuesque form remains planted firmly as he starts his bike and backs out of my driveway. There’s a playful smile on his face as he drives away, and I get this feeling he knows something I don’t. Or at least, he thinks he does.
Hell. He probably does.
My head is so fuzzy and confused with conflicting emotions that I’m not sure of much right now. And when it comes to Ollie, I’m at a complete loss.
Chapter 6
Ollie
Age Thirty-Two
Yeah…no.
Stay far away, man.
Quinn’s laughing at something Ethan’s said, and I can feel the vibration of the sound deep within my chest. She’s at the other end of the deck with Cat and Ethan, and I’m having a difficult time focusing on anything but her. Something akin to jealousy bubbles beneath the surface of my skin, and I can’t quite figure that out.
I don’t do jealous. I don’t crush on the twenty-one-year-old friends of someone I’m sponsoring. At the same time, I can’t deny that I wish I could change places with Ethan, or Cat for that matter, if only to be closer to her.
Whoa.
Once again…yeah, no.
Leo’s flipping burgers on the grill and telling me about his father’s recent attempt to guilt him into taking a bigger role in one of the family businesses. I’ve never had to concentrate on a conversation so hard in my entire life.
My brain is muddled with the vision of long blond hair, lean muscular legs on a little body, flawless skin, and brilliant green eyes. Her smile is mesmerizing, complete with the small dimple in her cheek. The contagious laughter falls from her irresistible lips, and I crave proximity if only to feel her amusement even more.
Quinn’s like that. She makes everyone happy. Those near her only want to be closer. She’s adored by everyone who knows her—and for good reason. She’s this petite ball of light that shines brightly.
A star.
She radiates pure joy. It isn’t contrived or forced in any way. It’s effortless. Simply her.
And fuck me if it’s not messing with my head.
She’s off-limits for numerous reasons—the most important of which is Leo. I would never jeopardize my relationship with someone I’m sponsoring from NA. I’m here for him, and it’s vital. His life is important, and I’d never risk it. Love or, more accurately, lust is fleeting. The fall after the high is always messy. Bringing that mess into Leo’s life when he’s fighting daily to stay clean, to save his life, could never be worth it.
“You agree with me, right?” Leo asks, referring to the conversation he had with his father where he refused to take part in the future his father had envisioned for him.
“Absolutely. You’d be miserable working for your father or brother. You don’t owe them anything, Leo. Not a damn thing.”
“I know.” He nods. “There was a small part deep within me that wanted to say yes even though I knew I’d be miserable. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It does. We all have this innate desire to please our parents. We all want to be loved and validated by those who gave us life. You see it all the time with kids in foster care. They come from horrible home situations, but given the choice, they’d go back to their birth parents every time. It’s normal to want to do right by your family, Leo. But you’d hate working with Stephen and your dad. Not to mention the emotional triggers they’d unleash. You have to keep your boundaries and protect yourself.”
Leo takes the last burger off the grill and sets it on the tray.
“You’re right. I never really entertained the idea of going along with it, but at the same time, I felt a pang of guilt for not.”
“Brush it off, man. Focus on yourself and what you need. Don’t waste an ounce of guilt on your father. He doesn’t deserve it.”
“You got that right.” Leo takes the platter of burgers over to the patio table, where Alma’s setting down a bowl of potato salad. The table is covered with side dishes and a place setting for all of us.
“Everything looks great,” I tell her.
“Thanks,” she responds with a grin. Her stare, full of complete adoration, follows Leo as he takes a seat at the table.
Alma circles around the table and sits beside Leo. He leans down and kisses the top of her head. She’s good for him. I think, together, they can do anything. I’ve grown to care for Leo like a brother over this past year and a half. He’s a good guy and deserves to be loved the way in which Alma loves him.
Their friends, Amos, Ethan, Cat, and Quinn, sit at the table. I take a seat at the safe spot beside Cat where I won’t have to deal with any traitorous Quinn musings. Cat is a literal supermodel, but she’s no Quinn.
Alma raises her glass of lemonade. “I want to make a toast to Leo, the love of my life, who graduated today.”
There’re some hoots and cheers from those in attendance, and Leo shakes his head, feigning annoyance.
