I browse over notes he gave me on my phone since he’s dedicating his tattoo to his wife. Perhaps, it was different in their generation. Easier. Better.
Do I truly believe this?
I zero in on the glass container I drew, there are a few open notes with special dates.
1989—wedding anniversary.
1991—our business.
1997—Meadow.
The last one catches in my throat.
Now it makes sense, he said he was Dean’s cousin and Donna is Dean’s aunt so that makes them related. My suspicions are confirmed, he is Meadow’s dad.
“Have you met my son yet?” Milo grins, “He’s a hell of a rider if you’re into the sport.”
I don’t know what came over me today when Meadow held me like that, it pissed me off more than anything. Not for the reasons I thought it would. Instead of saying something, I started tearing up like a total idiot over a guy I barely knew. His touch was comforting. I feel like I need to be strong and stand tall all the time and I just wish I could lie next to someone and rest. Feel safe in their arms. Be at peace. Trustthem with my heart.
I admit, I just needed a hug.
Yet this is my break and I promised to focus on myself.
No distractions.
I fall back into our conversation, “On more than one occasion.” I keep quiet, showing no emotions whatsoever. “I didn’t know he was your son at first.”
“The one and only.” He smiles. “He has a way of leaving a strong impression.”
Funny, those were Meadow’s words to me.
“For doing what he does on the tracks you’ve got to have an unbreakable stance but also be resilient. Not getting into altercations with other riders. Force yourself to focus on the race and on the stunts you perform.”
My face twists in confusion. Tracks, stunts, races. “What does Meadow do?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you. I thought he would because you’re practically family.” He pursues his lips, arching his brows. “Maybe he didn’t want anyone to recognize him. Sometimes they send people to follow him and he’s not a fan.” He considers something for a second, “He prefers to keep his private life… private.”
Nowheis mysterious.
“He’s a risk taker you can’t steer him off something once he’s already made up his mind.”
Yup! That sounds about right.
Kind of hot though, and it doesn’t matter, Blakely, because this back-and-forth with Meadow is just for fun.
“Was he a troublemaker as a teen?” based on what Dean told us earlier, it sounds like it.
“Only here, around these people, he felt free enough to be silly but at home, he was pretty quiet. A massive motorcycle enthusiast.” He hums to a Queen song that just started playing.
I push the bag of sweets in his direction—I caught him snacking on them when Donna wasn’t looking. He immediately grabs a few and tosses them into his mouth.
“I think the bikes give him the freedom he always wanted. The anonymity of doing something major but at the same time not everyone knows who you are, or how you look. The helmet is a good cover until you don’t have a choice.” He chews a few gummy bears. “A lot of bikers hide behind their helmets. Only those who are close to them know who they truly are. Adds to the thrill, I guess.”
“You think he doesn’t want to be seen?” I tilt my gaze from his hand to his face but continue to sanitize it.
The corner of his mouth twitches, then he crinkles his nose, lastly arching his brows as he sighs. “I think he wants to protect who he cares about most. But knowing him he also doesn’t want to be taken for granted or left out.” He shrugs his shoulders, “If you want to learn more about Meadow you will have to spend time with the source.” He winks before he continues to sing the rest of the song.
I don’t know if seeing him is a good idea, or if I even want to.
