by Ellie Wade
“I do.” I bob my head. “Dad said he was allergic but now that I think about it, I think that was lie.” I grin.
“Maybe a little white lie.” She presses her lips in a line. “Anyway, watching that movie again after all these years brought back so many memories of you at that age. I love that age. Still a kid but wanting to be a teen,” she smiles, joy and nostalgia line her features. “You know, you have a home with a yard. You could get yourself one of those big, hairy, slobbery dogs now if you wanted.” She chuckles.
I shake my head. “I don’t think Saki would appreciate that. She’s the queen of the house.”
“I can’t believe that cat’s still alive.”
“She is and doing well.”
My mom places a hand on mine. “Honey, that cat has never been doing well. She is the most homely looking thing.”
“Mother, so much judgment,” I chastise in jest. “She is perfect exactly the way she is.”
“Well, I suppose that’s true, as we all are. So tell me. How’s everything? Your motorcycle business and druggie counseling.”
“Mom,” I say on a laugh. “It’s sponsoring not druggie counseling.”
“You know I didn’t mean anything by it,” she says in a sweet voice, and it’s true. My mother would never say a mean word about anyone, but her choice of words could use an adjustment sometimes.
“I know and it’s going well. We’re all doing well.”
“That’s good to hear, Sweetie.”
“And I actually just finished up a huge bike rebuild, so I decided to come visit you before starting my next project.”
She raises her hands in praise. “Hallelujah for that. I’ve missed you, and I’m so proud of you.”
We make easy conversation over one plate of food after the next. I’m bursting at the seams and we haven’t eaten dinner yet. Mom updates me on all her committees and community projects. I pull out my phone and show her pictures of my latest Harley rebuild which turned out incredible.
“Somethings different about you today,” she says suddenly, her brows furrowed. “There’s a girl, isn’t there?”
My eyes widen. “Mom, there’s no girl.”
She squints her eyes, accessing. “Don’t tell me I don’t know my own son. There’s a girl and I want to hear about her.”
“She’s just a friend, Mom.”
“Okay, well tell me about this friend,” she urges.
“Well, we’ve known each other through a mutual acquaintance for almost eight years. She works in fashion, in Ann Arbor. She’s kind, fun, and beautiful. But it’s just not a good time for me. I have other responsibilities and it wouldn’t be fair to them or to her to explore anything beyond friendship.”
“I’m not buying it. What else?”
“Well, she’s eleven years younger than me.”
Mom flips her wrist. “So what? That doesn’t matter. You know your father was three years older than me and we worked out just fine.
“Three years is much different than eleven, Mom.” I laugh.
“Not when I was sixteen, and he was nineteen. It was a very big deal. We were in love and couldn’t be together. My father would’ve killed your father if he’d known. So we waited, in love but apart until I was eighteen and then we eloped. And look at us now, all these years later. Love is love, my boy. Don’t let a little age difference ruin it.”
“Honestly, it’s not really the age at all. It’s more the responsibility I feel toward others. I’m so afraid to let them down.”
“Honey.” She puts her hand on mine. “I get that it makes you feel good to help others. I understand that you feel obligated to do so. But you’ve spent twenty years putting the happiness of others above your own, and that’s just not right. You have paid enough for your past. When are you going to start living? You have the kindest heart of anyone I know and you deserve happiness. We all do. It’s time, Oliver. It’s time.”
“It’s just not that easy, Mom. I can’t just walk away.”
“Then you find a balance, a new way of doing things. One that puts your happiness on the list, and more than that—makes it a priority. It’s all about time management. Readjust. You’re capable of having a life, and helping others. Don’t tell me you’re not.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.” She scoffs. “There is no maybe about it. Definitely because you, my boy, are worth it.”
I wish everyone had a mother like mine—fierce in her love, and unwavering in her support. If they did, I think the world would be a better place. I’m in no way close to perfect but the good I do possess within, can be accredited to her.
Chapter 15
Quinn
Amos chases Love around the backyard with a squirt gun as she giggles. Alma and I sit beneath the large umbrella canopy on the patio, lemonades in hand watching the sight before us. It’s one of those hot September days that feel like full blown summer, hiding the fact that autumn is right around the corner. This is my type of weather—hot.
I’ve often thought about moving away from Michigan. The seasons are beautiful, sure, but I would love to live somewhere with an eternal summer, as long as there’s air conditioning. I don’t think I could leave all those I love, my friends and family. Well, maybe I could if I got offered an incredible fashion job in New York City, not that it’s any warmer, but because it’s New York City. I grew up watching reruns of Sex and the City and dreaming of living in the epicenter of high fashion one day. But I put roots down here, and as much as I love clothes…I love my people more.
“Quinny! Save me,” Love runs toward me, giving me just enough time to place my glass of lemonade on the table before she springs into my lap.
“Safe zone!” I yell out, and Amos stops his pursuit with a wide grin.
“Phew, you’re lucky Love Dove.” He bops her on the nose. “Well, it’s probably a good thing you found the safe zone because I have to get the grill going for dinner.” He turns toward Alma. “Can I get you anything?”
“Nope, we’re good. Thanks,” she says.
“Okay.” He leans down and gives her a quick kiss. “I’m going to get dinner started then.”
“Sounds good.” She smiles up to him.
I’m still wrapping my mind around Alma and Amos as a couple. I met them both when Alma moved into our dorm freshman year. They’ve always been close, the best of friends since childhood. Admittedly, when I first met them, I thought they were together. They just had this natural chemistry and ease with one another. Then Alma fell in love with Leo, and it was once-in-a-lifetime love. Anyone who saw them together would agree. But I’m glad that Alma’s found love with her lifelong best friend. If anyone could’ve worked his way into her broken heart, it would be Amos. He’s loved her since they were children, and he’s good—such a great person. I know he would do anything for Alma and Love and they both deserve someone who loves them that way.
Amos walks away and Alma looks to me with a shy grin. I nod, and smile back. Reaching out, I squeeze her hand. I’m so happy that she’s happy.
I wipe Love’s wet locks away from her face, and kiss the top of her head. “You know what I think?”
“What?” she asks, eyes wide.
“I think that we should work together to get Amos back when he’s not expecting it,” I say dramatically. “We need to make a plan.”
Love shoots up from my lap. “I have water bayoons!”
“Ooh, balloons! Yes, good call. Go get ’em and we’ll fill them up with a hose. Don’t tell Amos, though.”
“Okay!” Love jumps off my lap and runs indoors giggling.
I can’t help but laugh. “God, she’s adorable.”
“She’s perfect,” Alma agrees.
“Where’s Lee-Anne?” I ask of Alma’s mother who is normally here.
“You know…I’m not sure. She’s been busy a lot lately ever since she, Cat, Love, and I went to lunch at Leo’s favorite Coney Island on the anniversary of his death. I think she and Luca are hanging
out but she won’t admit it.”
Luca is the owner of the Coney Island and a widow like Alma’s mother. “Oh, that might be nice.”
“Yeah,” Alma furrows her brow. “I mean I want her to be happy and find love again. She’s still so young but she also has quite the history and I don’t want her to hurt Luca. He’s been through so much.”
“As you’ve said, she’s different since your father’s passing. She’s better. So hopefully she’ll stay that way.”
Alma nods, “I really hope so and speaking of love and dating…what’d you decide to do about Ollie?”
I gasp. “I…I never said anything about Ollie.”
“Come on, Quinn,” Alma laughs. “I’ve been your best friend for nine years. I know you.”
“But I didn’t mention Ollie.”
“You didn’t have to. First, there’s the fact that you’ve been crushing on him forever. Secondly, how many former addicts that have been clean for twenty years do you know? It’s not rocket science.” She reaches over and taps my knee. “I think it could be really good for you both.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. Ollie is the best there is, and so are you. Honestly, I don’t think you have anything to worry about with him. I mean, I know—never say never—but if there were ever an addict that you could trust not to relapse, I think it’d be him. He was a kid when he was using, and he’s spent his entire adult life helping others. I just can’t see him ever using again.”
She goes quiet and I know she’s thinking what I’m thinking. No one ever thought Leo would either. Yet, Ollie isn’t Leo, and it’s not fair to constantly compare them.
“Yeah, I think that’s true.”
“What does Ollie say about all of this?”
I shrug. “He’s hesitant, too. For other reasons, and I’m not completely sure why.”
“Well, he’s never been in a serious relationship. His life is dedicated to his people at NA. Maybe he’s scared of what a real relationship would do to his life. He’s had the same routine his entire adult life, bikes and NA. It’d be a change for him. But he likes you?”
I nod. “I think so.”
“I think so, too. In fact, I think you’ve both always liked each other but out of respect for Leo never acted on it. You know what you should do?”
“What?”
“Talk to him.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Maybe not simple but straightforward. The only way you’re going to figure it out is by talking to him.”
I smile at my best friend. “You’re so wise.”
“I try.” She shrugs.
Love comes back onto the porch with a bag of balloons in her hand. They’re the kind that I saw on an infomercial once where you connect the hose to a spout that has lines to each balloon and it fills them up all at once. Apparently, they plop off and seal themselves shut when they’re full.
“I got ’em!” she holds up the bag.
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to try these. I’ve seen them on TV. Do they really work the way they’re shown?” I ask Alma.
“Yeah.” She huffs out a laugh. “It’s really cool.”
“Wow. How fun, Lovie! Let’s go fill them up and do a sneak attack on Cookie.” I use Amos’s nickname which is what Love normally calls him.
“Come on, Momma!” Love extends her hand to Alma.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Alma jumps from her chair and follows Love and I.
The three of us sneak off to the side of the house to fill the balloons that actually do work the way the infomercial said they would, and prepare for our ambush.
Everything about today is just what I needed. The hard stuff will have to wait. For now, I have a water balloon fight to plan.
Chapter 16
Ollie
Taking my ratchet, I break the axle nut loose. The rear axle has had the washer welded to it, so I thread it out part way, and push with my thumb to get the axle to slide out of the wheel. Stepping behind the Yamaha, I put my foot under the tire, and my hand under the rim. Sliding the axle all the way out, I move the chain off the sprocket so it’s out of the way allowing me to pull the tire assembly out.
The owner of this Yamaha R6 wants a new look, a spiced up paint job. He told me to make it look kick-ass, and unique. I’ve had some designs working in the back of my mind, and I’m excited to use one on this bike. Jobs that give me total creative freedom are my favorite.
First things first, I gotta remove the tires so they’re out of the way when I spray the base layer of paint.
I set the back wheel on the shelf, and grab the ratchet to tackle the front when I hear a car pull into the drive. A moment later, Quinn is standing at the entrance of my garage looking drop dead gorgeous as always. It’s been a week since our ride to the lake. A week of back and forth scenarios juggling in my mind. A week of questions and uncertainty. A whole week without her.
God, how I’ve missed her. My entire body hums at her mere presence.
I drop the ratchet on the table. “Hey. What’s up?” I play it cool, and immediately hate myself. I see her and my walls immediately go up, and this unaffected version of myself shows up when I am anything but.
Her face wears a look of determination and without a word she walks toward me until her body is pressed against mine. Reaching up she grasps my face between her hands and pulls me toward her. Before I can rationalize her actions, her lips are on mine.
The kiss is firm and unwavering. Quinn is taking what she wants. Though, caught off guard, it takes my body less than a second to act on instinct and take what it wants in return. I thread my hands through her hair and pull her in, needing her closer. Kissing Quinn is everything I imagined it’d be. Her lips are soft but determined. The kiss, sensual and needy, sends electricity though my entire body. On a sigh, her tongue enters my mouth and entwines with mine. All I see and feel is hot, red desire.
I push Quinn back until her body is pressed against the wall. I cradle her face as my tongue explores her mouth. My body presses against hers and she wiggles beneath my touch. She releases a soft moan that vibrates through my mouth and it’s almost too much.
This moment is all-encompassing.
This kiss is everything.
I’m submerged in all that is Quinn. The smell of her hair, the taste of her lips, and the quaking of her breaths causes my heart to race to an explosive speed.
This is years of desire exploding in a single moment. Hot and needed. More than that, it’s overwhelming because I’ve wanted to know what it felt like to kiss Quinn Kirkpatrick since the first moment I laid eyes on her years ago.
I’ve been inexplicably pulled toward her from the start. She’s all I’ve ever wanted but was too afraid to hope for. My body craves every inch of hers. My heart beats adoration for only her. She’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted to risk it all for.
Simply put—she’s everything.
My life has existed to put others back together. Focusing on their terrors has allowed me to forget my own. I knew that one instant, one kiss would change everything, and it has. For a single kiss, a solitary stolen moment will never be enough. Now that I’ve tasted her, I can never stop. That loss of control terrifies me to my core but for Quinn I will slay all the demons. For her, I will risk it all.
I pull my mouth away, just a fraction, and touch my forehead to hers. Her chest heaves against mine, mirroring my own struggle for breath.
I squeeze my hands closed, pulling at her silky locks between my fingers. “Quinn,” I say on an exhale, all rational thoughts and words a jumbled mess in my head.
“I’ve waited eight years to do that, and I wasn’t about to wait a second longer,” she whispers against my lips.
I smile, feeling her plump lips grinning against mine.
“It was incredible,” I say.
“It was everything.” She puckers her lips, giving me a peck that sends another round of heat down to my toes. “Now that I finally have your atte
ntion, I’m never giving it up.”
“Promise,” my voice is husky with emotion.
At this moment I want Quinn more than anything in this world. Nothing is standing in our way, yet—my history as my own worst enemy terrifies me. I have the power to screw this up. I know I could, easily.
This is a first for me, kissing a woman with true emotion, and wanting her beyond the physical. It’s new terrain, and I can’t deny that it’s frightening. I could’ve lived without knowing what Quinn’s lips felt like on mine. But now that I know, I can’t live without her.
Quinn presses her palms to my face. Her bright greens are inches away, the soft gold specks visible. “I know this is new for you. In the past, maybe we weren’t possible, but we are now. You want me and I want you. It’s that simple. Sure, there could be more to it, baggage that could ruin us. Let’s not let it in. We’ll keep it easy—we like each other. That’s all that matters. I’ve tried to be happy with others. I lived my life but the fact that you were out here and not with me was always in the back of my mind. I’m going to fight for us, Ollie. I don’t want any more excuses. I just want you.”
I nod, the gravity of her words setting in. I suppose, I’m now dating Quinn after almost a decade of fighting it. She won just as I knew she always would.
She rubs her thumb across my cheek. “Are we good?”
“Yeah.” I kiss her softly. “So good. You’re an amazing kisser.”
“I know.” She pulls my bottom lip into her mouth. “You should see what else I can do.” She kisses over my jaw, onto my neck and below my ear. The kisses are soft and her breath is hot. I’m covered in goose bumps and hard as a rock. My head is so muddled with lust, I can’t think straight.
