Our Forever

by Elena Matthews

  “And, as for the bike, I promise, I will never let anything bad happen to you. On my mom’s grave, Jo.”

  My lips curl into a smile at the earnestness I hear in his voice and see in the depths of his eyes. I know that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me; however, when I glance at the bike, the pit of my stomach rolls with nausea. Nervously, I graze my bottom lip with my teeth.

  “I’ve never ridden on a bike before.” I clutch my purse tighter in my hands, my heart accelerating—and not in a good way.

  “It’s okay. I promise to go slow.”

  “But…” I try to come up with an excuse, but other than the anxiety flowing through me, I can think of no other reason I shouldn’t get on the back of his bike.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I might have only known him for a short amount of time, but I know, without a doubt, that I can trust him. “Yes.”

  “Then, trust me.”

  I close my eyes, trying to find the courage from within to listen to what he’s telling me.

  Trust him.

  Just trust him.

  “Okay.”

  I let out a jittery breath against the constraint of my helmet as I watch Drew climb on his bike, bearing his hands against the handlebars. He turns his head to look at me, his blue eyes the only thing I can see under his full-face helmet, and somehow they’re brighter under the fluorescent lights of the garage.

  “Hop up,” he instructs.

  I have to stifle a laugh as I glance down at my attire. Yeah, I’ll get right on that in my tight-fitted skirt. Scowling at him, I take several steps toward him while lifting my skirt up my thighs.

  “A little higher,” Drew says with a wrinkle of his eyes, chuckling.

  I flash him an irritated glare, which initiates more laughter to rumble from his chest. I cock my leg up and swing it around the bike until I’m straddling the seat, my front pushed up against Drew’s back and my feet resting on the rear foot pegs.

  “Okay, so what now?”

  He tilts his head to the side, toward me. “You put your arms around me.”

  I do as he instructed and wrap my arms around his torso. My front is met with the warmth of his back, and my nerves dissipate a little at having him close to me.

  “What next?”

  “You keep a tight hold on me. You think you can do that?”

  I smile as I clutch my arms around his waist, my chin resting against his back. Riding a bike definitely has its advantages.

  “Yes.”

  “Make sure to keep your hands where they are. Don’t stray any further,” he demands in a stern voice.

  My smile widens at his comment, and now that he’s mentioned it, the urge to lower my hands speaks to me like a beacon in the night.

  “Why? Are you worried the little guy might wake up during our ride?” I tease, giggling.

  He shifts his position until he’s looking at me. “Hey, there’s nothing little about me, and you know it,” he points out. “I know how much you love my dick, but while I’m riding, no fondling me.”

  I laugh at his egotistical comment.

  “I can’t be having any distractions on your first ride on the back of my bike.”

  Sucking my bottom lip inside my mouth, I decide to test him and lower my fingers down to his crotch where I softly squeeze his dick through the denim of his jeans. “This dick, Drew? I can’t fondle this dick while you ride?” I question with a sultry sound to my voice as he resumes his forward position.

  I hear the hiss through his helmet, and he hardens between my fingers in an instant.

  “Sugar,” he growls.

  His response only makes me squeeze harder. His reaction sends a thrill up my spine, and the pulsating I feel between my panties indicates how much of a turn-on this is for me. He places a stern hand over my fingers, stopping me from caressing any further.

  “Sugar, don’t,” he grits out. He shifts in his seat to look at me, his eyes a shade darker with pure lust. “If you don’t stop, I will bend you over this bike and fuck you so hard that you’ll be seeing stars for the next two hours.”

  My pussy clenches at his threat, and there’s a part of me that wishes he would do that.

  “However, I was hoping to do that after the date rather than before. Please behave, so I can be a gentleman on our first date, okay?”

  My heart skips a beat before doing a little rhythmic dance, and I find myself dreamily smiling because he wants to give me a real hearts-and-flowers date.

  I remove my hand from his dick and resume my hold around his waist. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.”

  Vibrations shudder through me as the bike roars to life, and the apprehension I was feeling before I got on this death trap comes at me with a vengeance. Instinctively, I squeeze my arms tighter, anticipating sudden movement, but when a solid twenty seconds pass and we still haven’t edged forward, I peek around his shoulder, noticing he has his eyes closed tight.

  “You okay?” I ask, concerned.

  He grunts in response before he shouts over the rumbling engine, “No. I’m hard as a rock.”

  I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my mouth.

  “Give me some ugly thoughts because there is no way I can ride with a hard-on.”

  Now, I feel a little bad for teasing him. I rack my brain before a case of verbal diarrhea seemingly escapes me. “Spiders, naked old lady, dead puppies, vomit, blood, The Exorcist—”

  “The Exorcist?” Drew shouts over the rumble of the bike, eyeing me with humor.

  “Yes. You’ve seen The Exorcist, right?” I ask him. The question alone is enough to show my horror of the most disturbing film I’ve ever set eyes on. It was the first horror film I watched with Christopher when we were twelve years old, and it’s one I regret watching. Give me Final Destination any day.

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, I don’t need to explain how horrific that movie is.”

  With a shake of the head, he turns forward and revs the bike’s engine. I smile with triumph, knowing my little mention of The Exorcist worked.

  “Hold on tight,” he bellows over the engine.

  I shift closer until there isn’t an inch of air between us. We begin to move through the underground garage, and it isn’t until we get out on to the open road that the anxiety previously running through my body turns into exhilaration.

  The cool breeze whips against my bare legs, and it’s a welcoming sensation against the early evening heat. Drew keeps a steady speed, and I’ve never felt safer than I do right now. I guess motorbikes aren’t so dangerous when treated with respect.

  At every stop at a traffic light, his fingers briefly caress against mine, his incredibly sweet way of reassuring me and calming me, and every single time he pulls away to drive onward, the skin of where he lingered tingles at his absence.

  After a little while, we pull up to a stop in front of a store with low lights shining from inside, and I smile when I see the illuminated sign. Lori’s Cupcakes is displayed in an elegant font with a pink cupcake beside the name.

  Drew removes his helmet before he helps me off the bike, and my legs turn to jelly as I stand, leaving me a little off-balance. I clutch ahold of the lapels of his jacket as he removes my helmet, creating a windswept effect with my hair. I give a shake of my head, allowing my flowing hair to fall back into place, and brush through a few of the strands.

  “You okay, sugar?” He brushes a piece of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.

  “Yeah, just a little unsteady after that ride,” I admit.

  “It’s the adrenaline. It’ll get better after a while.”

  “A while, huh? So, riding on the back of your bike will become a regular thing then?”

  “It’ll become such a regular thing that you’ll be thinking you’re my old lady.”

  My head falls back on a laugh before I turn my attention to the store in front of me. “So, this is where we’re having our first date?”

  “Yes
. Is that okay?”

  “It’s perfect,” I say.

  Drew retrieves my purse from the under-seat storage and hands it to me before latching his helmet on some kind of hook on the side of the bike and putting the helmet I wore on the seat. Capturing my hand in his, he leads me toward the entrance of the store.

  “Lori—was that your mom’s name?” I ask, pointing to the sign just above our heads.

  “Yeah. The store was originally called The Cupcake Company, but when she passed away, I decided to call it Lori’s Cupcakes, in her honor.”

  And my heart swells just that little bit more.

  “I like Lori’s Cupcakes better.”

  “Me, too.” Drew smiles at me with his spellbinding smile that seriously makes me weak in the knees.

  He slips his fingers from mine to unlock the door, and as we step inside, I’m immediately taken aback. It looks more like a boutique than a bakery.

  My eyes take in the pristine walls with white and pinks, the white countertops with an integrated glass counter display, and the pastel-pink drop-down lights that hang over the glass. Pink booths line up to the left of me with white round tables and wooden chairs scattered to the right of me. Shelves line the back wall with various-sized glasses, coffee cups, and white boutique-style boxes. To the far left sits a high-tech coffee machine with a menu board hanging above it.

  Drew’s quiet as he lets me take in what was clearly his mother’s pride and joy, and I can see why because it’s gorgeous. I find myself smiling in awe at the quotes, written in elegant fonts, that grace the walls.

  The first quote reads, You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy cupcakes, and that’s the same thing. Another reads, Life is as sweet as a cupcake. My favorite has me laughing out loud—Once upon a time, I ate a cupcake, and I loved it. The end.

  “This place is amazing!” I exclaim as I turn to Drew, a huge smile on my face.

  “Thought you’d like it,” he says with a knowing grin.

  “Like it?” I incredulously ask him. “No, I love it. I can see why your mom loved this place. It’s wonderful. Although I’m a little disappointed about the lack of cupcakes.” I point toward the empty counter display with a frown marring my face.

  Drew chuckles. “They’re made fresh every day. My mom was always pretty vigilant when it came to the quality of the cakes, and I have a team of bakers who get up at the crack of dawn to ensure the quality is to my mother’s standards. It was in the list of rules she left in her will when she died.”

  My eyes widen with surprise. “She left you this place with a list of rules?”

  “This store meant everything to her. She built it from nothing, and she wouldn’t leave this place for it to die when she did. But, even without the list of rules, I would never have let it die,” he says with a seriousness that I wholeheartedly believe.

  A smile suddenly creeps onto his face, a humorous glint flickering in his eyes. “They weren’t the only rules she left. She also left a list for both me and Rachel, a list of stupid things not to do.”

  “Please tell me what was on the list,” I beg, my eyes pleadingly bugging out of my head.

  “I can’t remember them all, but a few consisted of, Don’t impregnate a woman unless she’s the woman of your dreams, Don’t eat chicken that smells like fish, and the best, Don’t forget to look both ways before crossing the street.”

  His laughter reverberates through me, and it’s a laugh I never want to stop listening to, not for a single minute.

  “I’m happy to announce that I have yet to steer from her list of lifelong rules. However, I might have impregnated a few women along the way. Back in college, I was so broke that I donated my sperm to a fertility clinic.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask with my mouth agape, mocking him with a disapproving shake of my head.

  “Don’t judge. Desperate times called for desperate measures.”

  “Oh, I’m not judging. I’m just wondering how many mini Drews are roaming the earth.”

  “Oh, trust me, it’s probably zero because I can’t imagine many women are looking for a nineteen-year-old college kid without a single prospect, other than playing the guitar.”

  I throw my head back on laughter. “You’re kinda crazy. You know that, right?”

  He edges closer to me until we’re chest-to-chest. “It’s what makes me special.”

  His lips graze along mine, and the blaze from the sheer touch heats through me, filling my stomach with what feels like a flutter of a million butterflies. The kiss lasts only seconds before he pulls away, but in those few seconds, forever was almost within reaching distance. Forever is a concept I can almost feel myself believing in again, especially now that I’m a hundred percent sure my heart belongs to him.

  The orbs of his eyes pierce mine with a gaze so powerful that I’m unable to look away.

  “Are you ready for your date?”

  Unable to resist, I place a single kiss on his lips, followed by a whispered, “Yes.”

  His hand captures mine, and he leads me through the store until we come to a door that states, Rooftop Garden. We walk up a set of stairs until we reach another door, and as we’re greeted with the familiar Austin heat, it’s like I’ve stepped into a fairyland of twinkly lights. Tiny lights are strewed above us, sparkling against the slowly fading evening sky. Below them, scattered across the terrace, are several tables with patio umbrellas along with various pink and white flowers embedded along the edge of the rooftop garden. And centered in the middle is a table set for two with one single unlit candle.

  Retrieving a lighter from his jeans pocket, Drew walks toward the table, and a lick of flame flickers to life as he lights the candle. He smiles at the disbelieving look of surprise that no doubt glows on my face against the glimmering lights shining above me. He pulls out a chair and indicates with a wave of his hand for me to take a seat.

  “This place is wonderful,” I say taking my jacket off, hanging it over the chair before sitting down and placing my purse on the table.

  He gently helps push my chair closer to the table before following suit with his leather jacket and taking the seat adjacent to me.

  “I had no idea anything could look so beautiful,” I say with amazement, taking in the view of Austin that surrounds us, the sunset just as breathtaking as the sunrise.

  “All the credit goes to my mom. She designed a plan for an outside terrace above the store, but before she could get the building work rolling, she got sick. So, the minute I got the lump sum from her life insurance after she died, I got straight to work, making her design a reality. It sucks that she’s not here to see it, but I’m proud of the legacy this place holds.”

  My continuously racing heart swells against my chest, and without thought, I stand from my seat and round the table until I’m sitting on his knee, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You’re doing wild things to my heart. Did you know that?”

  The intrigue in his eyes turn serious, and with a heavy swallow, he shakes his head, his fingers automatically going to my sides, tightening. “No, I didn’t, but that’s good to know.”

  “Before I met you, my heart was barely holding on by a thread, but since you appeared in my life, I’m able to breathe again. I once forgot what it was like to feel my heart racing, but whenever I’m with you or thinking of you, all my heart ever does is race.” I claim his hand with mine and guide it to my heart. “That’s you, Drew. Only you.”

  His breath hitches at my words.

  The blue hue of his eyes captures mine, and the power of his stare leaves me speechless. No more words are spoken between us. There’s only the sound of our lips connecting and our souls locking together. Spellbound under the warmth of his lips, it takes a moment for me to register the sound of nervous coughing from behind us. I pull away, and I’m startled when I see a waitress with a tray filled with food beside her, looking a little red in the face.

  “Um, Mr. Greyson, I have your first course.”

  My eyes lift w
ith humor at him being addressed as Mr. Greyson, and Drew gives me a warning look that says, Don’t. I resume my seat as the waitress serves us. Drew takes the chilled bottle of wine—chardonnay, of course—from the ice bucket and pours a generous amount in my glass.

  “Here, we have stuffed celery with pimiento cheese. Enjoy.”

  When the waitress leaves us, the first words out of my mouth are, “You hired a waitress, Mr. Greyson?” I snicker.

  “And a chef,” Drew adds as he picks up his knife and fork.

  “You hired a waitress and a chef?” I ask in disbelief, not understanding why he went to all of that trouble.

  “Well, technically, no. I called in a favor with my head baker, who just so happens to be an incredible cook, and asked one of the waitresses who works here to do a little overtime.”

  “You really are pulling out all the stops tonight, huh?” I inquire. I grab the napkin that’s in the shape of a swan and place it on my lap.

  “You’re kind of worth pulling out all the stops for.”

  For a second time tonight, I’m left utterly speechless. I can only smile before taking ahold of my knife and fork and digging in. The stuffed celery is the best stuffed celery I’ve ever eaten.

  After a short while of devouring our food, Drew is the first to speak, “I’ve never heard you mention your parents. What’s the deal there?”

  I look up from my food with an immediate scowl on my face—not at Drew, just at the mere mention of them.

  “We’ve never really gotten along. I mean, they weren’t bad parents, but they weren’t good either. While they lived their life, I was alone a lot, especially during my teens. It wasn’t until Junior was born when they began to show interest. We still didn’t see eye to eye, but I let it go because of Junior. However, when I told them about my move to Austin, they pretty much slammed the door in my face, and I haven’t heard a peep from either of them since.”

  “Fuck, Jo. I’m so sorry.” His voice is filled with compassion.

  “It’s fine. I was way past caring what they thought a long time ago. They’re a stress I no longer have to deal with. I mean, it sucks for Junior, but he has another set of grandparents who love him—both of us—a thousand times more than my parents ever could. Junior doesn’t need them, and neither do I. It’s their loss, not mine.”