by A. Marie
Proficient in emotionally detaching, I bat down the nasty bout of heartburn plaguing my insides, and throw my hands up in surrender. “No worries here. I’m not looking for a relationship.” It isn’t until I pull away that Coty meets my eyes. Another step backward puts me in front of Beckett. “Just looking to get home.” Coty’s eyes narrow but I ignore them and the ache in my chest facing Beckett fully. I jut my chin out soliciting a little help with the straps but Beckett doesn’t bite, instead his head whips over to Coty. I will Beckett’s eyes to return to mine only for him to feign ignorance to my very existence. The guy is more than devoted to the mantra ‘bros before hoes’ and having me ride on the back of his bike rather than Coty’s apparently falls directly under that misogynistic umbrage. I don’t even waste my time looking at Marc. A girl always knows when she’s unwanted. Well, this girl does.
A hand suddenly wraps around the mouthpiece of my helmet and I’m pulled back to Coty with a tender but demanding guide. Helpless to stop it, my feet follow their newfound leader, but before I can tuck away all the emotions bubbling too close to the surface, Coty is there. Observing. Taking in everything I don’t want him to see, forcing me to be the one to drop my eyes.
“I’m picky with who I let on my bike. It’s not about who I’m sleeping with.” I can feel the glare he shoots Beckett. “It’s about trust. I lean, you lean, right?” He lowers his head, catching my eye. “But it’s more than that. It’s-” he starts only to stop, frustrated. “Remember how I told you that every move you make I’ll feel?” I nod. “Well, I have to trust that you feel our connection when we’re together on there. And that you respect that connection as much as I do. I have to trust you won’t make careless moves that’ll affect either of us. Moves that could hurt both of us. Moves we can’t come back from.”
His eyes tell me his words carry more weight than he’s letting on. They also tell me he’s waiting for my reply with an equally profound sentiment but what am I supposed to say? “I swear not to crash us?” I mean I would if I could but I can’t, so I don’t. What if I careen us into the first ditch as soon as we’re safely off the bike? I can’t promise a smooth ride to anybody because I’ve never traveled one myself.
Marc interrupts the strained moment. “It’ll be getting dark soon. Should we go home or stay out a little longer?”
They look to me for my response. The fact that jealousy reared its ugly head on our first official time hanging out together scares me. Coty’s deep proclamation scares me. The look he’s now pinning me with scares me. But the thought of not being wrapped securely around Coty at least one more time, breathing in everything he is, fucking terrifies me. Admitting that, even if only to myself, is out of the question which is why I pick at a random cuticle when I mutter, “longer.”
“What was that?”
The circle constricts with strained ears.
With a huff, I look up. “Let’s ride longer.”
The boys whoop loudly, shouting another round of “ride it” before everyone busies themselves on their own bikes.
Take off is much the same as before except for the different route back. Once clear of the store’s light traffic, Coty pulls one of my hands off the gas tank, placing it on his chest while keeping it there momentarily. It’s such a relaxed gesture, almost like a reflex, I don’t dare pull away. The slack allows me to sit back, creating a small gap between us so I glance out over the landscape. The sun is slowly sinking toward the horizon, painting the sky pink and light blue in its wake. Cotton candy colors. The stunning backdrop reminds me of the mural in Coty’s room and the accompanying quote. As I take in the triangle composed of motorcycles, I wonder who will be left with regrets when all’s said and done—me or them?
My musings are cut short when Coty returns my hand to the tank, my body conforming to his only seconds before he lays on the gas, all three bikes collectively picking up speed toward an on-ramp with no signs of slowing.
Oh. Shit.
A quick thigh squeeze the only warning I get, then we’re barreling around the curve going way faster than I would attempt even in my own ride. “Taki Taki “by DJ Snake and what sounds like Cardi B fills my helmet as Coty leans his body down and to the right. Far to the right, directly into the fucking turn, leaving me no choice but to go with him. Careful not to anticipate where he’s going before he goes there, I feel his body as it’s moving and follow blindly even though everything in mine begs to go left, away from where the motion is pulling us. Sensing my compliance, Coty’s back relaxes a fraction and soon we’re like magnets but better. There’s no pull from him or push from me because we’re already there, together, no hesitancy whatsoever, only total harmony between us. The fear of falling off the crotch rocket is quickly replaced by the fear of falling somewhere else. Somewhere completely foreign to someone like me. Somewhere even a leather jacket can’t cushion the blow. The ground at love’s feet isn’t as forgiving as the asphalt whirring beneath ours. Road burn heals. It can leave nasty scars, yeah, but over time it does heal. Heartbreak leaves no trace other than the unfathomable pain nobody else can see. The kind I’ve endured for years and refuse to add to after one Sunday night ride.
Out of the bend, Coty rights us, forcing our melded bodies to shift as one then we’re zipping onto the highway toward town. Marc and Beckett take turns cutting across the open lanes ahead. What starts out as lighthearted fun though quickly turns into cutthroat competition when they lower their bodies almost flush with their bikes then shoot off into an all-out race. Anxiously watching, I let out a squeal when their taillights disappear in the growing darkness. Coty’s back shakes with another silent laugh. Suddenly hungry for his calm, I rest my head between his shoulders, praying it transfers by osmosis. He does the thing again where he grips the seat under my ass, and I do the thing where I pretend not to notice.
Back at Creekwood, a white extended cab pickup is pulling out as we near the entrance. The resemblance registers a moment too late and by the time I chance a second look, it’s already gone. Facing forward, I notice Coty honed in on the truck as well. Maybe he knows the driver and that’s why it looked familiar. It couldn’t be… No, it’s just a coincidence.
“Well, as promised I got you home all in one piece. I think anyway. You may have left a vocal cord or two back there with all the screaming you did,” Coty teases once we’re all dismounted, approaching the stairwell. He doesn’t mention the truck and neither do I.
I smack his arm playfully. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“Neighbor girl, you’re gonna have to start closing your windows at night if that’s even close to how loud you are when you-”
“Dude!”
Everyone laughs. Except for Coty. He just looks pissed.
Rolling my eyes, I say, “I don’t think so. I’ll be sure to send over some good earplugs when that happens.” I waggle my eyebrows at Beckett earning another round of laughter. Coty still isn’t amused. I thought it was funny. “Anyway, thanks for letting me tag along tonight.”
“You’re welcome anytime.”
Upstairs, Marc and Beckett bid me goodnight then disappear inside. Coty hangs back, quietly watching me. His gaze locks onto mine and that pesky chill returns, making me want to wrap my arms around my middle. Instead I turn to unlock my door.
“Did you like riding with me?”
Absently, I throw over my shoulder, “Yeah, it was fun.”
“No.” Coty’s chunky boots drag across the concrete, sending echoes down the hall. I spin to find him less than a foot away. “Did you like riding with me?” He doesn’t stop until there are only inches between us.
Firmly pressed against the door, I work to get the key out of the lock behind my back. A light sweat breaks out on my forehead despite the subsiding temperature. Swallowing, I say, “It was…an experience.”
Leaning forward, Coty reaches behind me leaving only a breath of space between our faces and twists the key out of the deadbolt. My eyes never leave his even as he pulls back brandishi
ng the key like a gift. When I grab for it though, he keeps it just out of reach, toying with me. Little does he know, I’m broken and can’t be played with, so rocking onto my tiptoes I pluck the metal from his grasp.
“That guy from the other night isn’t going to get mad, is he?”
“What guy?”
“Drew, was it?”
Realization dawns and a laugh slips past my lips before I can stop it. Coty’s eyebrows plunge downward. Drew is protective of me, even bordering on overprotective at times, but confronting my neighbors over a friendly motorcycle ride isn’t really his style. If I were to admit to riding on a street bike, the worst he’d do is give me a lecture I’d roll my eyes through. I know for a fact he’s raced his pretty Acura plenty of times so his hypocritical speech would fall on deaf ears.
“You started your day eating breakfast with me while I was half naked.” Recovering, my eyes harden, my tongue pressing into my cheek. “Then you ended it with your legs wrapped around me. I just want to be prepared if some dude shows up at my door pissed off. I know I would be.”
I can’t stop the sting of his words before they land as carelessly as they were delivered. How dare he turn this into something he knows it’s not. Yes, I enjoyed spending time with him today—more than I should’ve—but for him to twist that into something perverse is insulting. Insinuating Drew, or any man, has a say in what I do is even worse.
Too many emotions fight for purchase in me but I’ve had years to perfect covering them up, so I just paste on a mocking smile, saying, “Who says I’m ending my day with you between my legs?” I push my door open, slipping past the threshold. “Excuse me while I make sure all my windows are closed. Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.” I add a wink for good measure then slam the door shut.
Fuck.
Him.
CHAPTER 12
Angela
“Get out.”
Ignoring me, Beckett makes himself at home in the front seat of my Jeep, a downside to not having doors attached for the summer, but I don’t have the time, or patience, for his antics right now. Today’s the last day to pick up my cap and gown for graduation and I’m already running late from swinging by my apartment after work to grab the rest of the payment.
This week’s gone by agonizingly slow with only school, work, home, repeat. I haven’t seen the neighbors much except for the occasional greeting in passing. It’s been a little awkward but necessary—for everyone—so, I’m surprised to see Beckett now. His blond hair is wet like he just got out of a shower and he’s wearing a dark blue shirt that says You Lost Me At “I Don’t Ride” with long cargo shorts. A tattoo I hadn’t noticed peeks out from under a sleeve. It looks like a line around his bicep but random spacing keeps it from being totally solid.
“Why are you ignoring us, neighbor girl? I thought you liked us.” He actually has the nerve to look put out, too. The couple times I was able to make it down to the pool, he would wave morosely from the balcony but otherwise remain silent. I hated it. And I hated that I hated it. I should welcome his silence, considering who his alliance is with, but Beckett’s like an innocent puppy wagging his tail in excitement over every little thing. You can’t help but get caught up in his good mood. Okay, he’s not that innocent, but still, his enthusiasm is infectious. Mostly. Just not today.
I sigh. “You guys are okay. I mean from what I know about you guys so far you seem nice enough. I had fun on Sunday and dinner was great.” His chest puffs up at the compliment. “But I’m really busy. Like right now, I need to leave, damn it,” I growl.
“Have you talked to Coty?” He continues when I only drop my eyes, saying, “He’s been off all week.”
“Like from work?”
“No, not from work, smartass. Just his attitude. He’s been…moody.” He raises his eyebrows like that surprises even him.
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, yeah? Are your cycles not synced up anymore?” I can tell the period joke went over his head by the blank look on his face. Pressing my head into the headrest, I peer over at him. “I don’t know what you want from me. I have no idea what his problem is. We haven’t spoken since after the ride and that conversation didn’t end well. So, whatever is going on with your friend, it has nothing to do with me.” And it’s true. Last weekend Coty was accommodating and generous. He knew what I wanted, what I needed, without me even having to say a single word. He was flirtatious and downright sweet. But then he turned, flipped an accusatory switch, and grew outright angry. Around the same time I took that call from Drew. “Now, will you please get out, so I have something to wear to my graduation?”
Instead of listening, he buckles his seat belt, the click emphasizing his intention.
I throw my hands up from the steering wheel. “No.”
“Yes. I’m bored and we haven’t spent any time together. Let’s go.”
Groaning, I start my Jeep and throw it in reverse, knowing I’m already cutting it close.
“Why would we spend any time together? We’re neighbors, Beckett. We’re supposed to pretend we don’t notice when the other one waves and forget to water each other’s plants if one goes out of town. That’s it. Not this friendly crap you’re pushing.”
He pins me with an incredulous look. “The fuck kind of neighbors have you had?”
“The best kind?”
“Not yet, you haven’t.” He laughs. “You’ll see. We’re awesome.”
Beckett keeps the conversation flowing, basically unprovoked, as we make the short drive but quiets once we’re inside the uniform shop. Almost eerily so. Even as I spin slow circles in front of the mirror to admire the unflattering gown and ill-fitting cap, he keeps his opinions to himself, lost in his own head. An unreadable expression crosses his face when the cashier mentions the lack of parent involvement regarding my bill. Assuming his interest is solely about the money, I pay as quickly as possible then feel Beckett’s disconcerting stare bore into the side of my face when I hand over the cash. Some sort of heat rash immediately creeps up my neck and I scratch the skin raw until I feel his hand swat mine away. Still, he says nothing.
Beckett’s gloomy mood doesn’t hinder my elation though. I’m beaming from ear to ear by the time we’re back on the road. I’m actually doing it. I’m graduating. And I was able to pay for all of my graduation outfit myself—thanks for nothing, Mom—even the special medal showing I made honors. It’s cheesy and I looked ridiculous in the ensemble but I love it. Another step in my road to independence, albeit in an ugly gown, but a step nonetheless.
Finally breaking the tense silence, Beckett offers to buy me dinner but I manage to talk him into splitting the bill at a fast food joint on the way home instead.
With a fry that’s more ketchup than potato, Beckett points at the medal currently dangling from my rearview mirror, asking, “Why didn’t your parents help with any of this stuff?”
I take a giant bite of my burger before the question is fully out of his mouth, shrugging noncommittally in answer.
He nods pensively but drops the subject.
We chat easily the rest of our meal then laugh at each other’s horrible singing the whole way home. He’s actually incredibly smart and kind when you get to know him. He just lets his horny side take the lead normally, hiding what’s underneath. It makes me wonder what else is hidden in his secret depths. Someday some brave woman will find out, and I can only hope she’s strong enough to take on whatever Beckett works so hard at burying.
I’m parking just as Coty gets out of his Camaro. Instead of going upstairs, he heads straight for my car though.
Beckett turns to me and says, “uh oh,” before climbing out. “See ya later.”
He goes to fist bump Coty but Coty glares at him, ignoring his extended hand. In the next minute, he’s draping both arms casually on the roll bar of my Jeep while Beckett glances back, remaining shamelessly nosey.
I quirk an eyebrow, fully prepared to wait him out.
He finally breaks with a thick, �
�Neighbor girl.” It’s the most he’s said since I slammed the door in his face and it’s not enough. Not by a long shot.
“That’s what you lead with?”
“What?” He genuinely looks confused. Men are such idiots.
With an eye roll, I busy myself grabbing my garment bag but stop when he leans in further.
His tone a little too calm, he asks, “What were you two doing?”
“Go ask him.”
“I’m asking you.”
“So it seems.”
“How have you been?”
“Fine.” Not fine.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“You guys are so clueless. First him,” I gesture wildly at the hulking figure posted on the stairs, “and now you. I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been busy. But you were an ass and you know it. I don’t have any time for drama especially not at the one place I feel comfortable.” I stop myself when my throat gets thick with emotion I refuse to show.
“You’re right.” Coty drops his head, then lifts it again meeting my eyes. “I was irritated and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
I buy some time glancing around at the various windows all draped in different coverings.
“You should be. You were completely out of line.” I pull a long breath. “But, going forward I think we should keep things cordial. We’re neighbors and I don’t want things to get messy.”
He tilts his head slightly, practically whispering, “What if I want messy?”
“Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘don’t shit where you eat’?”
I expect him to laugh, instead he leans in even closer and says in a husky voice, “Yes, but I’ve got a big appetite.”
My face heats as I run my gaze down his body remembering what it felt like to be wrapped snugly around it. His dark hair is slightly wavy and looks like he just ran his hands through it. He’s wearing a plain white tee giving him a casual look. It’s slightly baggy but still clings to his lean muscles in all the right places. His slim waist tapers down to gray athletic pants with a hint of his boxers peeking out of the top. How he makes a simple outfit look so sexy, I don’t know.
