I was running a little low on gas, which is why I went to the gas station that was in the same parking lot as the Blue Dog. They had the best prices, I told myself. But the whole time I was pumping gas, I was scanning the parking lot. I couldn’t admit it, but I was looking for his bike.
“Are you done?” A teenage boy was standing next to me and I became aware that I was still holding the gas dispenser even though my tank was full. His car was behind mine, waiting for the pump.
“What? Oh yeah. Sorry.” I put the pump back and screwed on the gas cap. Just as I was getting the receipt, I heard it. The distinctive rumble of Ryder’s bike.
My body jolted with electricity. There he was. Just on the other side of the parking lot. I saw him dismount his bike and take off his helmet. His long legs were clad in faded blue jeans that hugged every muscle. His jacket was faded from exposure to the elements.
“Are you going to be leaving soon, or should I move to another pump?” The guy behind me was irritated and I didn’t blame him a bit. I was acting like a moron.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m going.”
As if it had a mind of its own, my car made its way across the parking lot to the Blue Dog. “I’ll just get a Diet Coke,” my mind said, but it was a lie. I knew why I was going in there.
The smell of Lysol, stale beer, and cigarettes hit my nose at the same time my eyes went blind from the change to darkness. I felt really out of place in my sensible waitress shoes and my Tiny’s t-shirt. I half-expected them to hand me a tray and tell me to start taking orders.
My eyes adjusted and I saw Ryder leaning over the jukebox. It was like that Taylor Swift song—he was looking like James Dean in those jeans and leather jacket.
A magnetic attraction pulled me to where he was. I had no idea what I was going to say, but I just knew I needed to be near him.
“Hey.”That was brilliant, Paige. Did they teach you that in college?
“Oh! Paige! I didn’t expect to see you here. What are you doing here?” It might have been my imagination or all the weed I didn’t smoke last night, but he seemed to be happy to see me.
“Don’t choose that song,” I said.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because if we end up getting married and living happily ever after, I don’t want Tequila to be our song.” Who was this bold woman speaking from my mouth?
“Our song?” he laughed and asked, “Okay. What should I pick, then?”
I leaned over the jukebox and could feel his gaze going up and down my body, lingering on my ass. “What about this one?” I said, pointing to a title.
“Born to be Wild? You want our kids to play that at every anniversary?”
“Okay, how about this?” I pointed to Patsy Cline’sAnything.The way he was looking at me, he could have done anything to me and I’d have agreed.
Without a word, he pushed the numbers on the jukebox and walked over to the bar. The bartender slid over a cup of coffee. I followed him like a puppy.
“Can I get a Diet Coke?” I asked her.
“That shit’ll kill you,” Ryder said, grinning at me.
“So can riding a bike,” I said.
“If you don’t know how to handle it.”
“And you do?” I said, looking up at him. “You know how to handle it?”
The smile spread across his face slowly, revealing deep dimples. “Honey, you have no idea.”
He took his coffee over to a table in the back and the waitress gave me my Diet Coke. I grabbed for my wallet and Ryder said, “Put it on my tab.”
This was the second time someone had bought my drink here. I grabbed the glass and went over to Ryder’s table. “Thanks.”
“It’s the least I could do,” he said, motioning for me to sit down.
“Why is that?”
