Her lips hinted at a soft smile. “He’d had an aneurysm.” She glanced down at the picture again. “Cay had the best day of his life. He’d won a trophy. Mydad had been so proud. But when he died, our family broke.
“I think my mom felt guilty because she didn’t recognize the signs. Not that there were any. I just think parents that lose a child find ways to make it their fault.”
“Tragedy like this isn’t anyone’s fault.”
“The heart and the mind don’t always agree.” She put the picture back on the shelf. “I guess we all found ways to survive. Mom having Cece brought my parents back together. They’re good now. My dad would’ve given up racing, but I started wearing my brother’s number. I started riding his bike, and I raced motocross until I was sixteen. Then I got a taste of the track. Speed over dirt any day. My dad calls it track therapy. You can’t focus on feeling miserable when you’re focused on racing.”
She sat on the couch and curled her legs under her. I checked my phone for the time. Lately, Treena had been lax with the rules, but I didn’t want to give her a reason to fuck with my life. “I need to take off soon. The halfway house has a curfew.”
“So you have a perverted probation officer, court-ordered NA meetings, and a curfew.”
“It’s a pain. But I can’t say I’m not guilty of finding trouble. Or at least, trouble seems to find me.”
“Oh god, that’s the Heller motto. I’m not sure I’m ready for another Heller in my life.”
I couldn’t stop the grin on my face. All teeth and happiness.
“A curfew sucks,” she said. “How long do you have to live at the halfway house?”
“I’m kind of fucked. I can’t leave unless I have somewhere to go. My options are limited. I’m making deliveries on my bike, so my income is sketchy, but I’mlooking for something better.” I wasn’t going to tick boyfriend boxes if I didn’t have a legit job, didn’t have money to take her out, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have a place to have her over.
Insecurities and regrets jumbled in my gut. We’d just established we’d be friends, but I had to bounce, and I wanted to see her again. How was I supposed to play it cool when I wanted to ask her out? Not that I could take her anywhere. Not that I wanted to shoot my shot, only to have it fuck me over because I’d claimed I could be friends with a girl.
Just not this girl.
“I should probably take off.” I pulled my bike key from my pocket and grabbed my phone off the coffee table. “Thanks again for today. Freaking epic. Probably the most fun I’ve ever had on my bike.”
Because lately, I’d spent more time doing food deliveries than riding for pleasure.
When I stood, she did, too. “I guess maybe I’ll see you at Levi’s again. Or at a meeting with Kiss,” she said. “After checking in with your pervy probation officer.”
“Don’t remind me.” I stuffed my phone into the front pocket of my hoodie.
An awkward silence settled between us. She tucked a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear.
Where were my balls? She seemed to wait for me to say something. Fuck it. She could always say no. “Do you maybe want to get together for a ride or something?”
“Tomorrow?” Her reply was instant and laced with something that hit my bloodstream like the first corner on the track today. I was unsure, a bit nervous, but feeling like fire.
“Do you want to meet somewhere? Or I can ride out here?” I’d have to get up early and hope some Sunday morning assholes had a craving for hashbrowns and egg sandwiches so that I’d have enough to fill our tanks and maybe grab a bite to eat at some point during the ride.
“Tomorrow afternoon. Then we can come back here. My mom always makes a big dinner on Sundays.”
I smiled. She smiled. A light blush tinted her cheeks, and my face could have cracked from grinning. Our faces were close together. I could imagine her breath on my lips and her touch on my skin. A tingle built in my balls. Just friends, I reminded myself.
When she looked at me like this. Eyes I could drown in, lips I wanted to taste, hair that caught the moonlight through the large windows. I didn’t care that Cruz had her up against the wall, with his hands where I wanted my hands, and his mouth crushing hers. I could almost taste her tongue. Her throat stretched on a swallow.
I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to give her a reason to forget Cruz.
“Do you want me to text you in the morning?” she asked.
“Yeah, but you know, you can text me whenever you want. Any time you want to go for a ride. If you’re bored. If you’re hungry and you want a delivery.”
“I’ll remember that.” She led the way down the stairs and swung open the double garage door as I climbed onto my bike. She approached as I slapped my helmet over my head and lifted the face shield. Then she stepped with me as I backed the bike out of the garage.
For a moment, my bike idled, and I stared at her, at her mouth, her full lips, the flutter of her pulse in her neck. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to remember thescent of her perfume, and the heat of her body close to mine. I wanted things I couldn’t have. “I have to go.”
I slid my phone into the holder attached to my handlebars, tapped a few buttons, and pulled up a playlist. With a wave, I rolled the throttle and rode down to the access road.
