Head Over Wheels (Spicy Young Romance)

by January Valentine

  Aware of the grip of our hands even after we'd finished speaking, our fingers loosened, hesitated, then grudgingly unlocked. We were so in tune.

  Emma appeared at my side and I grabbed her arm, offering an enthusiastic introduction. However, Emma needed no intro. Neither did Bill.

  "Emma?" Bill's lips barely moved. After speaking her name, his entire face broke into a smile, clearly elated by the full impact of her presence.

  "Billy..." She choked his name as though it had been lodged deep in her throat, like a caged butterfly finally free to fly.

  Evidently, there was history between them. Why hadn't she ever told me?

  "Billy Arkana." She seemed to be struggling with her lips.

  Indigo shot him a look. "Billy Arkana? What happened to William Addison?"

  Tearing his eyes from Emma's, Bill turned to Indigo and smirked. "Texas rock star days."

  Arms folded over his chest, Indigo burst out laughing. "Arkana. Creative."

  Bill fanned out his arms. "What can I say?"

  "No need to explain ... Billy." Indigo turned to me and grinned. His stance was relaxed, his long legs slightly spread in the masculine way that made women drool, creating such a stir in my tummy I had to fight the urge to close in on him.

  Managing to retain my composure, I shrugged. "This is news to me too." I focused on Emma, but catching her eye was impossible. She looked entranced.

  "How have you been, Billy?" Emma shifted his attention back to her, and only her. They fell into their own private conversation. It was as though Indigo and I were two invisible creatures left to fend for ourselves, which was fine with me. I'd never want to share him with anyone. The blonde bimbo edged into my brain, but I forced her aside.

  I couldn't help but keep an ear on Em and Bill's conversation, noting her voice dropped dramatically and sweetened like I'd never have believed possible. I shot her a grin that went undetected. The grounded psych was suddenly flighty.

  "I'm good, Billy. Life's been good. I'm a clinical psychologist." Her words eased, reflecting her demeanor. "I work for the State."

  "You reached your goal ..." Bill reacted as if Emma had found a cure for every major disease, or something equally monumental.

  "Yes." She smiled, admiration contagious. "What about you?"

  "I'm into drugs," he said, casually brushing a hand over his hair, while his other hand rested on a hip.

  Em stiffened, then took a step back.

  I recoiled. "Huh?"

  "He just pushes them." Arms still folded across his chest, legs still spread in that enticing stance, Indigo appeared calm and in control, obviously amused by our reactions to Bill's statement. Or was it an admission? I was totally confused ... and concerned. Em's face said she agreed. And did she look disappointed.

  "Pharmaceutical rep," Bill clarified.

  I felt the sigh of relief Em let out.

  "He likes to shock people with the drug line." As he watched his friend in action, Indigo kept shaking his head. "In reality, he's a nerd."

  "Look who's talking. I'm surprised you left the kids long enough to ride today." Bill wore a perpetual grin. When Indigo's eyes cut into him, he palmed his forehead. "I forgot, you're the organizer."

  The kids? Don't tell me he's married, and Bill slipped ...

  Indigo's expression clouded. Angling his head over my shoulder, his stare fixed on the cyclists. Crap. Was he ready to hop back onto his bike and join the procession that forged on without us?

  Bill took a bottle of hand sanitizer from his pack and offered it to Indigo, who still hadn't recovered from his mood swing. Maybe the tag, Indigo, was appropriate for more than one reason ... dark blue ... dark side.

  Perspiration drizzled across Bill's forehead, the line of his wavy dark hair that fringed his ears. "I could use a break," he said, reaching for his water bottle. "Join me?" he directed to Emma, who joyfully obliged, following him to a spot where willows bowed a gentle shelter.

  "You haven't changed." I heard her giggle. "Do you still rock out with the band?"

  "Nope. No more singing." He sounded bummed.

  Indigo shot me a questioning brow. My eyes unintentionally lowered, and I felt a nervous smile bud. In moments, side by side we were on our way into shade, water bottles in hand.

  "I've never seen him this way." Indigo sounded as stumped as I felt.

  "Ditto with Em. High school, I guess?"

  "Seems that way."

  The stream we settled beside bubbled and glittered, murmuring tranquility. Emma and Bill sat opposite one another, crossed legged on the cropped lawn. Indigo and I followed suit. After a brief discussion of weather, and how lucky we all were because the cycling event had managed to squeeze itself in between rainy days predicted by the weatherman, the chit-chat grew personal.

  "Do you live in the city?" Indigo asked, eyes moving from me to Emma then diving back into mine.

  Em and I nodded. "Uh huh."

  "And you?" I asked, addressing both guys, but focusing openly on Indigo.

  When we all established we had apartments within a ten mile radius we laughed.

  "I can't believe we're almost neighbors and have never run into each other before," Bill marveled. He seemed to be a smooth talker, but honest. "And girls like you two would be difficult to miss, even in a crowded city. So how did this happen?" He grinned at Emma.

  “It must be fate.” I’d never seen Emma flirt before. It was refreshing. “Tears you apart ... brings you back together again. Kind of how the ocean drags shells out to sea, then brings them back to shore ... dredging up what could have been buried forever had it not been for the strength of the tide.” Wow, and philosophical. Bill had some effect on her.

  "I actually almost met Jewel," Indigo corrected, his side glance awkward ... nervous?

  "So, this is the mysterious beauty I've been hearing about for weeks?" Amazement filled Bill's voice. "I'll be damned." He looked from Emma to me, then back to Indigo. "What a day. We both got to meet our ..."

  Mysterious beauty? What the hell? Listening to Bill, my eyes widened, and if capable of sound they would have snapped, Huh? directly into Indigo's ... but his stunned stare was not pointed at me.

  Indigo looked like he wanted to sew Bill's mouth shut, his glare bringing his friend's perfunctory disclosure to a halt. Bill looked surprised, but with a grinning shrug turned to concentrate on Emma, whose eyes roamed over every inch of him, pulling him back each time his gaze shifted even slightly.

  A ruffling breeze dried our hairlines. I unleashed my ponytail, shaking out my hair, then palms on the ground I stretched my arms behind my back, tossed my head up, drank in the day. I could feel Indigo's eyes absorb the lines of my elongated neck, the exaggerated arch of my spine which in turn emphasized my chest. I wondered if my sprouting nipples could be detected through my cotton sports bra and lightweight T-shirt.

  Beneath me the grass felt like velvet. With lowered lids I watched Indigo's fingers pluck blades, with thumb and middle finger tossing them idly into the air.

  "It's too soon to be falling asleep." His comment oozed, wrapped around my head, sounding enticingly intimate, underscoring our proximity.

  Without thinking, I let out an, "Mmm," mimicking his tone. "Just relaxing." I didn't force the yawn that followed, which had nothing at all to do with his presence.

  His stare felt warmer than the sun. I giggled, tilting my head, peeking through one eye. "I'm awake." God, am I awake.

  "That's good, because we've got a long way to go, Jewel."

  Dios mío ... [My God ...] Did he just say that? Was it like a double meaning? Oh ... my ... The butterflies inside my stomach were lethal, but I was not about to let the rabid swarm threaten my composure.

  When I turned to face his smooth voice, I watched the corners of his eyes crease, softening his intensity. I desperately wanted to know absolutely everything about Indigo. Still, I couldn't weaken my guard – or my game.

  Taking a long breath of fresh air I smiled lazily. "Cycling
really isn't my thing," I confessed with the cutest facial expression I could fashion at the moment, "but you should see me on a dance floor." I batted my lashes, pressed my lips together just enough to deepen my dimples.

  "I'd love to." He looked serious, like the wheels inside his head were turning, and my flutters went ballistic.

  "What did he mean?" I swung my head in Bill's direction. "When he said something about leaving the kids?" As I asked, my stomach lurched, worrying about what his answer might be.

  "Hospital rotation ... I'm in the children's wing this month." His stare cooled, shifting to the cloudless sky.

  Ah, med school ...There was that distressing look again. Was he hardened by life or just overburdened by it?

  "Tough, huh? Not much free time and all that ..." I was already gauging how many leftover hours ... and how much energy ... there'd be for me.

  He blew out a sigh that sounded unanticipated, then drew a deep breath. "Yup. Occupies almost twenty-four-seven." His words were steady, matter of fact, as if industrious was his accepted way of life, and would never be debated.

  Was he apologizing in advance? Crap. He must have sensed brewing tension, because he lightened the moment with a disarming grin. "Exams in a couple of months. Then I have some downtime until I start my residency."

  "Where?"

  "NYU Medical Center."

  "Great." My upbeat voice annoyed me. I knew residency would be even more demanding than the eight years leading up to it. How exhausting it must be for him.

  I watched him from the corner of my eye, then turned my head for a better view, admiring the way the sun sharpened his features, streaked his hair, crystallized his eyes which were already translucent ... addictive. Was it admiration I felt, or was I envious of his goal, his future, his perfect profile? Come on, Jewel. You've got great stuff going on in your life. Don't even think about letting insecurity creep in. Could his future possibly include me? If so ... would I fit in? Another vision of Blondie invaded my already overtaxed brain. What am I getting myself into?

  "Yep. End of May the skate's over and the real work begins. I'm looking forward to it though, and having almost the entire summer free ..."

  Was he consoling me? I brightened.

  "Summer. What's a more beautiful word ... and time of year ..." I let out a musical moan.

  He looked at me. Really looked at me, and his expression softened so drastically, I felt as though he wanted me to share his inner thoughts. To listen. Understand. Confide in me? Was I getting to him?

  "I spend a lot of time at the Hamptons." He began offering info. "Correction. I used to." The way he tilted his head, his ever-changing expressions, his fingers stroking the blades of grass cropping up between us, was driving me insane.

  "Nice." My nose pointed skyward. I closed my eyes, giving my imagination free reign.

  Okay ... A rich boy. Aren't they used to getting what they wanted and tiring easily? A fling for a fling ... I'll give him a run for his money.

  "It's a great place to relax. Have fun. Whatever ..." His voice trailed off. Maybe he didn't want to appear a bragger ... or was he dropping hints? "My family has a summer home there." He struck a similar position, palms on the grass behind him, legs stretched out almost touching mine. Faces pointing upward, we looked like two sun worshipers enjoying the beautiful day.

  "Oh, I know what it's like. I love the Hamptons." I spoke into the breeze that ruffled my hair which in turn tickled my nose. I brushed it away and turned on my side. Leaning on an elbow, I fully faced him.

  Twisting his head in my direction, he appeared impressed by my reply. "Do you go there often?" I hoped his eagerness was overplayed, because I was stretching the truth quite thin.

  "Doesn't everyone?" My eyes were wide, my voice innocent.

  What I didn't mention was I'd visited the Hamptons for only two days to attend a Bar Mitzvah – and that had been over ten years ago. Hmm. The Hamptons ... every summer? Hence, Blondie. I should have known. Might as well dig deeper.

  "Is your family here in New York?" I brushed a hand across the plush carpet of grass, now and then twisting blades between my fingertips, stealing as many inconspicuous glances at him as possible without drawing too much attention to the fact that I was becoming increasingly immersed in him.

  "Yup. Westchester. Yours?" When he sat up, straight back, legs crisscross applesauce, he looked so cute and enthusiastic. Not at all like a snob. He had me so confused.

  "Dutchess." While my voice chimed, I plucked furiously at stalks of clover.

  "Poughkeepsie?" He reached into a pocket and tossed me a wrapped stick of gum.

  "How'd you guess?" I sat up and faced him cross-legged, our knees almost touching. I peeled off the wrapper and after sliding the gum seductively across my lips, began to chomp.

  "Everyone's from Poughkeepsie." He chuckled, then popped a piece of gum into his mouth, gazing back up at the sky as if it offered peace.

  "Huh?"

  "Just joking. I pass it on the way to Saratoga. Well, I used to." He seemed to be relying upon the sky for thought, and after another clean sweep of intense blue, started staring at me as though I were something in a store window he’d wanted since childhood, but for some reason, wouldn’t dare ask for.

  "Raceway?" I became uncomfortable under his close scrutiny, wondering what he was seeking as he examined.

  "How'd you guess?" His eyes calmed.

  "Everyone goes to Saratoga Raceway." I knew I sounded like a smartass, but I had to maintain the upper hand.

  He appeared immune to my arrogance and smiled. "Still in school?"

  Ha. Another guy who couldn't guess my age. Thank you, Grandma, for the burnished elastic skin and youthful features.

  Now I blew out the breath. "Till the end of this semester. I'll have a degree in criminal justice. It took a little longer than expected ..." Why was I explaining?

  "We'll have to celebrate together. Maybe the Hamptons." He sounded bold, and appeared taken aback by his own remark. His gaze shifted to Emma and Bill who sat shoulder to shoulder a few feet away.

  I held back the urge to signal Em. Indigo was already talking future ... with me. My fingertips nonchalantly dipped beneath the neckband of my shirt to caress my crucifix.

  "Huh?" I couldn't appear expectant ... easy, girl.

  "Graduation." Once more, his fingers began an idle harvesting of grass. "Party on the beach. Keg of beer. Bonfire. The works."

  "Oh yeah. Now you're talking my language." My heart lunged for my throat.

  This guy came off as so cool, he could charm every layer of skin off a snake till he hit bone. But his eyes. Those crystal eyes were deceptive. They were anything but cool. They were deep, they were clear, then they were guarded, sweltering with secrets. What was his story? I just had to know.

  "Stay right there ..." the tone of his voice startled me, and I almost freaked when he brought his face in for a kiss. Keeping my composure, I didn't purse or part my lips, but I did lift my head and close my eyes, waiting for his next move.

  However, his thumb didn't tug down my bottom lip; his mouth didn't cover mine. Instead, his thumb and forefinger snatched a stray lash from my cheek. When my lids sprang open, he held it to my lips. "It was almost in your eye. Make a wish."

  For more than one reason, I let out a puff of air.

  "I hope it comes true," he said.

  "Not as much as I do." My eyes glued to his, I grinned.

  All too soon Emma and Bill were on their feet, indicating they were ready to get moving. I caught the quick squeeze of their fingers before they separated and approached.

  "Guess break time's over." Indigo stood and brushed grass from his bottom. He surprised me by grasping both of my hands and pulling me to my feet, holding me for a long moment before releasing me.

  His unexpected touch was debilitating. I mumbled something that sounded like, "Thanks."

  He smiled, and then in a smooth, crisscross maneuver, brought his gray Henley up and over his head. His
blue tee slid with it, but was snagged by the span of his shoulders, exposing a sleek physique. It appeared I'd been right: a delicious tan covered every inch of visible skin, even dipping into the waistband of his shorts. With a twist of his torso he shook free of both shirts, in the process showing off his ink. That's when my internal flutters began tripping over one another, working their way to my throat.

  A few ribs below his own heart was a tattoo of a bright red bleeding heart. The tat was beautiful ... sad. Was he sad? Who was she? I wondered. The girl who'd been such an important part of his life that he'd tattooed her heart beneath his. Or was it his heart turned inside out? Was he still bleeding for her?

  I strained to examine it further, but in a moment he pulled the blue tee on, cloaking the tattoo as he tugged the cotton down over his muscular chest. But I did notice a black Byzantine cross on his right arm before he shrugged everything back into place. The guy was delish. I wondered what else might be hidden under his clothes. He was the gift I was dying to unwrap.

  He stared down at me, his eyes now heather, faceted by afternoon sunshine. Mine felt like saucers, unblinking. The silence wasn't uncomfortable ... It was as though neither of us knew what to say. Still, our eyes spoke. Mine roamed every inch of his face again and again, while his worked slowly ... only once. Could this be a beginning? Or were we two souls passing in flight?

  After this ... how could we just say goodbye?

  From a side glance I glimpsed Emma and Bill, in the process of strapping on helmets, the entire time talking. Emma wore a coy smile; she seemed to be doing her thing. I wondered if they were making headway. They looked adorable together. He towered over her slight, but curvy frame. He picked up her bike, steadying it as she slipped onto the seat. Their actions seemed to be our cue: make a move or leave.

  I was captured by a flurry of wind that smelled so fresh it was intoxicating. "It's beautiful here. I'll have to use this trail again." I smiled up at Indigo, expectation clinging to my jaw line. "I think I'm going to be doing a lot more cycling."

  "Maybe we'll run in to one another again. Bill and I ride most weekends, if time permits." His eyes were shaded, even in bright daylight, they shadowed.