Dream Gone Wild

by Lucia Ashta

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “The damn crankshaft cracked,” Robby said, running a hand through his dark hair, surely swiping grease across it. His features, so similar to my own, twisted in frustration. I had lots of cousins, and every single one of us had dark hair, a muscular build, and a quick temper. I was the only one who didn’t have the signature dark eyes. I got the unusual green eyes from my father’s side of the family.

  “I can’t fucking believe it,” Robby growled. “I basically had it out, and then I just barely knocked it against the chassis, and it cracked.”

  “How bad’s the crack?” Alex asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s going to have to be replaced either way.”

  Robby looked at me. “Sorry, man. I was super careful.”

  “Hey, it happens.” It was a necessary motto around here. No matter how diligent we might be, shit inevitably went down. It was part of the trade. There was no way around the occasional snafu.

  “Is it gonna come out of my pay?” Robby looked at me from under thick, dark eyebrows. The three other mechanics surrounding him glanced at me too, hanging on my answer. It was always their concern when something broke. The bikes that came into my shop were high end. They were either new and top-of-the-line expensive or old, refurbished, and even more expensive. The parts often cost more than seemed reasonable.

  And Robby was working on an Ariel Cyclone 650.

  I sighed at how this was going to cut into my bottom line. “The shop’ll cover it, but it’s your only mess-up this week. Something else big breaks, it’s on you. Got it?”

  “Got it, boss. Thanks,” Robby said, and the group exhaled collective tension.

  “Make sure Judy gets on ordering the new part right away and calls the owner to explain the delay, and then take a break before getting back to it. Frustration leads to…?”

  “Fuck-ups,” the guys chorused.

  “That’s right,” I said. “And we don’t want any more fuck-ups.”

  The guys mumbled to each other but I walked away, my mind already moving on from Robby’s mistake. Judy would take care of the details. She knew how to handle clients. She’d make the owner of the bike feel thankful that the part had broken on my mechanic instead of him. She’d explain that if the manifold cracked at a slight knock, then it surely would have broken on him, and then he would’ve been responsible for the cost. By the time the client came to pick up his ride, not only would he not mind the delay, he’d be thanking me for covering the cost of a repair that would have eventually been his responsibility.

  Returning to the Indian I was working on, I knew it wouldn’t be long before thoughts of my shop were replaced by more concerning ones. Since Robby and Luke had brought up Rae, I hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts of her.

  Picking up the fuel tank and crouching down next to the bike, the sound of her laughter echoed through my damn heart. No matter how many years had passed, I hadn’t been able to shake the sound of her, the scent of her … the feel of her.

  Her easy laugh was one of my favorite parts about her—and I’d had a great many. Her smile was wide and constant. Her joy was infectious. And even though she’d enjoyed getting into trouble nearly as much as I did, the pull of it hadn’t been the same as for me. I was drawn to danger because it made me feel more alive, where she was already the most vibrant person I knew.

  I didn’t run from the cops anymore, but I did love to ride my bike. There was nothing quite like the air whipping past you like you’re too fast for death to catch up with you.

  I reached for a screwdriver, lost to my work, lost to the memories of Rae I tried so hard to forget but couldn’t. The monotonous clinking sounds of the garage faded into the background. My vision barely registered the parts I was so familiar with, and my body moved on autopilot.

  When would I ever forget her? If I hadn’t in more than a decade, what if I never did? Would I be tormented by what I couldn’t have for the rest of my life? Just the thought of it made acid churn in my gut.

  I could still remember how the silky strands of her hair felt sliding through my fingers. Her hair was always shiny, like threads of gold. I felt safe with her. An odd sensation no doubt when I craved pushing the edge like a drug. But with her, everything was different.

  She was always quick to kiss me. Her whiskey-colored eyes trailed across my face when she moved in as if she were picturing where the kiss might lead—every time. We’d lost our virginity to each other, and though I’d never tell anyone, we’d made love, something I’d never had since she dumped me over the phone. She’d said she worried she wouldn’t be able to break up with me if she saw me in person. I’d wanted to reach through the phone and grab her, press her against me, claim her, and never let her go.

  Shaking my head, I tried to dislodge the haunting thoughts that didn’t do anything to help. Judy, who watched me like a hawk in the unnerving way of a meddlesome woman, had tried to set me up with five different women in the last few weeks since Robby and Luke had announced that Rae was back in the area. I’d turned down every one of Judy’s attempts. I kept catching her looking at me, clicking her long, painted nails together as she deliberated. She was worried about me, probably wondering if I’d ever move on from Rae.

  I was worried too.

  Sighing heavily, I forced myself to think of something else. Laundry, I had to do laundry. I was out of fresh jeans and I was bound to get grease on this set of pants before the day was over. The store. I should definitely head to the supermarket. I was almost out of beer. The tattoo parlor where my cousin Laney worked. She was brilliant with the ink, and I’d been meaning to have her flesh out more of the dragon that wrapped around one of my arms and across a shoulder. She’d laid down the outline, but I wanted color. I wanted fire.

  I wanted more.

  What I wanted was Rae. I shook my head again. I was seriously messed up over this girl, and I couldn’t let anyone find out how bad it was. More than ten years had passed! It was pathetic.

  I was pathetic.

  Twisting a wrench with more force than I should, the metal screw groaned. I tensed and dropped down to the floor, carefully removing the wrench from the screw I’d been in the process of attempting to murder. If I kept it up, I’d end up breaking something.

  I stalked toward Judy’s office. She wanted to set me up with hot women? Fine. I was going to let her. I’d go on a date with a different woman each day of the week if that’s what she wanted. If that’s what would yank me out of this stupid funk.

  It’d be great. It’d be fun. I’d let myself get into it. I’d wine and dine them, we’d have crazy sex, and I wouldn’t think of Rae even once. Maybe I’d even get lucky and actually like one of them. It could happen. I’d liked Frankie while we dated until she broke it off with me, accusing me of not being fully into her. It was like I was cursed. Every woman ended up dumping me. Other than Rae, it was always for the same reason: they could tell my heart wasn’t into it.

  They were wrong. The true reason was that my heart was broken. It wasn’t whole anymore.

  But that would change. It had to, so I’d freaking make it happen. I’d date every woman in this town if I had to until I found the right one for me.

  I stormed into the office. Judy looked up at me, eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “Whoa. You look like a man on a mission.”

  “I am.”

  “What’s up? I was just about to come get you.”

  “You know all those dates I tell you I don’t want to go on?”

  “Uh, yeah. How could I forget? I’ve gotten tired of twisting those big, muscly arms of yours.”

  “Do it. Set ‘em up.”

  Her eyebrows arched even higher. “For real?”

  “For real.”

  “And you’ll actually give the women a shot?”

  “I will. I’ll give it my best.” I’d fall for one of them if it was the last thing I did.

  “All right!” Judy grinned and cl
apped her hands. “I’ll set you up on so many hot dates you won’t know what hit you.” She winked. “You can thank me later.” Her hand moved to the phone on her desk.

  “What’d you want to see me about?”

  Her grin fell. “Oh. Someone’s here to see you.” She scowled and faced the door to the client bathroom just as the door clicked open.

  My heart started thumping, because somehow I knew who it was before she stepped into the office.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ~ Rae ~

  I froze with my hand on the handle to the bathroom door. I hadn’t actually needed to use the facilities. I’d come in here as a last-ditch delay before seeing Jace. Judy, who’d been a high school classmate of ours, had already told me he was here, though she looked like she would have preferred to tell me he wasn’t. The way her bright red lips pursed and her overly mascaraed eyes narrowed, it was clear she didn’t want me anywhere near Jace.

  The sentiment was widespread. Mom and Dad had tried to talk me out of coming here, and even Sam, who told me to just go for things and grab life by the horns on a daily basis, had tried to dissuade me from seeking out Jace. I was starting to get the feeling that what I’d done to him was even worse than what I’d been told. Why else would everyone treat me like I was a plague carrier when I mentioned that I wanted to see him?

  Once I decided I needed to speak with him, it had taken me weeks to gather the courage. First there was the fact that I didn’t want him to see me this way. He’d last seen me when we were high schoolers. My face and body hadn’t changed all that much since then, but I had on the inside. Even now that I’d managed to erase the last twelve years of my life, I was damaged. Though Billie Ann had performed a small miracle, my hair was still lopsided—intentionally, but still—and I felt like a shell of my former self. Like a boxer, I was bloody and beaten, lying face down in a ring, forcing myself to stand before the ref could count to ten. I really, really wanted to stay down. I also really, really didn’t. If I stayed down, I might never get back up. I might never again chase what I wanted.

  I might never see the man I loved.

  Now here he was, on the other side of the door. I’d recognize his voice anywhere, anytime. It was deep and rumbly, like the revving of one of those motorcycles he loved so much. I froze while my heart thundered so loudly that I could barely hear what he was saying over the whooshing of my pulse through my head.

  But I did hear him. He was talking about going on dates with other women, lots of other women.

  I hadn’t left him broken. I was the only one who was broken here.

  He’d moved on in a big way, and why wouldn’t he? It’d been more than a decade since I dumped him. He was the best guy I’d ever met. Any woman would be a fool not to want to be with him.

  Me. I was the damn fool. I’d let him go when I’d had him. When he’d loved me. And he had loved me. Of that, I had no doubt.

  We’d been young and in love. We might have turned into those kinds of high school sweethearts who were happily married a gazillion years later. We’d been on track for that. We were like Bonnie and Clyde, or like Romeo and Juliet—without the tragic parts … until I’d invited tragedy in.

  I’d ruined it all. And like a fool, here I was trying to put back together what I’d broken.

  It was clear there was no chance of that. Jace Rollini was juggling women, and every single one of them was probably thrilled to be juggled.

  Breathing in a beast of a deep breath, I told myself I was only here to apologize. Jace didn’t want anything else from me—he probably didn’t even want the apology. But I needed to say I was sorry. I needed to tell him how much I hated what I’d done to him—to us. I hated my former self for ruining something so great. And for what?

  My chest shook before I gathered every ounce of strength I possessed.

  Before I could chicken out, I swung the door open and stepped out.

  I managed to pull the bathroom door closed behind me and walk a whole three steps across the office, but after that I couldn’t get myself to keep moving.

  My gaze locked on Jace. He was the same Jace I remembered … only bigger and more intense.

  The Jace I loved was strong and muscular with a bad boy edge I hadn’t even bothered to try resisting. This Jace was stronger and more muscular, and he’d taken bad boy to an entirely new level, one that made heat rush all over.

  He wore his thick, dark hair the same way he had when we’d been together. It was a bit long and wild on the top, cropped short everywhere else. I clenched my fingers against the need to run them through it, to latch on to his hair and tug his face down toward mine.

  His face was even more handsome than before. Its planes were harder, more defined … darker and more dangerous. His lips were the same deep red sources of sin. And his eyes … they’d always been my favorite. Like jewels; they sucked me in. With slight dark scruff on his cheeks and chin, his eyes shone like emeralds, like the color shouldn’t be real.

  My gaze trailed across his shoulders and chest, straining the limits of a simple black t-shirt, which revealed an intricate tattoo twining along one arm. From where I was, I couldn’t tell what his tattoo was of, and I wanted to study it, to figure out the mystery, probably because now that I was seeing him again, I wanted to examine every inch of his skin.

  My attention continued downward, across a tight stomach, narrow hips, and those strong legs I loved, filling out his jeans. I stared at his zipper for several seconds before flushing with sudden realization that I was in the middle of an office with a receptionist as a witness.

  I’d been gawking.

  Quickly, I scanned the rest of him, ending with his black motorcycle boots that looked much like the ones he used to wear when we were together. I snapped my gaze back up to his face, feeling the heat creeping into my cheeks. I didn’t think I’d ever blushed like this. I wasn’t a blusher—at least, I didn’t used to be. Back then, when Jace and I were a couple, I hadn’t embarrassed easily. I’d try just about anything once, and I wouldn’t regret having done it.

  Jace and I might have been virgins when we first made love at seventeen, but we hadn’t held back when it came to exploration. I might only remember sex with Jace, but sex with Jace was the kind that didn’t leave you wanting anything—or anyone—else.

  Warmth flashed in my abdomen, moving lower, then Judy cleared her throat, snapping me out of my deep appreciation for the gorgeous man standing before me … oh! Jace was angry. His eyebrows bunched low over stormy eyes, and his lips were pulled into a tight, furious line.

  “I-I’m sorry for just showing up here like this,” I stammered. “I, uh, I was hoping I could speak with you, Jace. In, ah, private.”

  I wasn’t a bumbling, withering violet. Until now, apparently.

  Judy stood from behind her desk and moved next to Jace, where she crossed her arms over her chest. She cocked a hip and glared, as if she were about to defend Jace from me, a comical sight. Judy only came up to his shoulder, and that was in her four-inch heels.

  Jace had never needed anyone to defend him. He was the kind of person who stood up for others. It was one of my favorite things about him. He might seem like a bad boy, and he was in all the ways I liked, but he stuck up for the little guy. I’d seen him punch a few bullies in the face when they’d been picking on kids younger, smaller, or weaker than them.

  “If you want to go back to the garage,” Judy told Jace, “I can deal with this.”

  “With this?” I said. “I’m not a this, I’m a person. And I’m just here to apologize, not to cause trouble.”

  Judy narrowed her eyes at me until she seemed to realize she was creasing her skin. She let up and patted the area around her eyes with the pads of her fingers as if worried about aging lines.

  I suppressed a smile. Judy hadn’t changed much, though she definitely looked a dozen years older. She’d primped and dressed to the nines in school too, always wanting to look her best to capture attention. She’d captured Dwayne
’s well enough. Last I saw her, she was pregnant.

  “Jace?” Judy prompted when he just glared at me.

  Suddenly realizing he’d been staring at me as intently as I’d been staring at him, I resisted the urge to straighten my tight t-shirt or tight jeans. He’d seen me dressed like this a million times. I’d raided my closet in my childhood bedroom, where my parents had left all the clothes I abandoned, untouched. These were the clothes I felt comfortable in, not the stiff business suits I’d salvaged from the condo I’d shared with Todd. I wore the same clothes I’d worn when Jace and I dated. The same “To ride or not to ride, that’s a stupid question” shirt he’d given me that was worn thin from repeated washes.

  I met his eyes, registering heavy shock beneath the furrowed brow. Self-consciously, I ran a hand across the short side of my hair—mindful of the tender area—before I stopped myself.

  I offered him a tremulous smile. “I promise I’m only here to try to make things better. I just want to talk to you about … what I did to us.”

  He held my gaze for so long that I began to regret coming there. It was clear from the hard set of his jaw that there was no chance in hell we’d get back together. I hadn’t allowed myself to actively consider the prospect, but I realized a secret part of me had indulged in the fantasy—had latched on to it with agonizing hope.

  Finally, he cleared his throat and nodded one sharp shake of his head. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I sighed. “Oh good. Thank you, Jace.”

  Judy didn’t move from where she’d positioned herself slightly in front of Jace and wholly between us. “Do you want me to join you guys?” she asked Jace. “In case, you know, she does anything bad.”

  My mouth dropped open before I could moderate my reaction and snap it shut. “When I do something bad, it’s the fun kind of bad. Not the hurtful kind.”