“Want a ride on her?” Mason said, nodding to his bike.
For the briefest of seconds, the thought sent a rush of arousal through me. On that bike, with my arms wrapped around him? With the beast of vibrations between my legs? Heaven knew that if I was already open to the possibilities that lay ahead, this was going to practically push me into them. I’d seen it—or, at least, heard about it—too often with other women and bikers to think that I’d somehow be able to resist the arresting allure of a bike.
But I was terrified of going too fast.
I was terrified of putting the pace of the night in Mason’s hands a hundred percent.
I trusted him, but I did not trust myself. I did not think I’d maintain my composure if things got heavy. I hadn’t ever gotten this far in forever…it was one thing to think I was ready, but what would happen when it got to the moment? And what would happen if it got to that moment while I was going over seventy on the back of a bike, with only Mason’s torso keeping me from splattering my head on the concrete?
“Thanks, but maybe another time,” I said.
Mason seemed utterly nonplussed about that.
“No worries. I think Exit 178 will lead to some walking trails. So just follow me closely, but if you get lost, get off there. If I notice you aren’t behind me anymore, I’ll wait there until you arrive.”
“Sounds good.”
So easy and simple. Maybe I’d—OK, I definitely had overplayed some of the worst-case scenarios in my head.
I headed to my car, got inside, took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and smiled. This was going well. So far, so good.
Stability wasn’t something I’d encountered much of in my life, so in an odd way, it almost caused more internal chaos. But the internal chaos, in this sense, was a good thing. It was the chaos of encountering someone that was treating me well, that I knew I could trust, that I knew would protect me if things got ugly.
As I pulled out of the lot of the coffee shop and followed him down the road, I fantasized about all the ways that Mason would protect me and defend me. He’d pull me behind his bike in the face of the Bandits and pound them into submission. If he’d been at the grocery store with me a few days prior, Eduardo wouldn’t have dared pull the shit that he’d done. He wouldn’t even have approached.
Through Mason, I didn’t have to live like the Bandits could arrive at any moment and make life a truly living hell for everyone involved. I could just live like a normal small-town girl, visiting places like Southwest Dine and the grocery store without wondering if an anxiety attack would riddle and cripple me.
And what happens in the inevitable moment when you’re alone and you encounter Eduardo again? Can you stand up for yourself, or—
“Gosh, he looks cute,” I said out loud as I trailed Mason in my car, trying to talk loudly enough that it silenced the voice in my head.
I also jacked up the radio to dance-in-the-car volumes, finding rhythm and enjoyment in the latest EDM beats. For now, it worked.For now.
I never lost track of him as we pulled off the exit in question. It wasn’t quite as rural and unpopulated as I’d hoped—drive long enough down any interstate west of the Mississippi River and you were bound to encounter random exits with absolutely nothing but a spot to do a de facto U-turn—but we only needed to drive a smidge further to find a parking lot for a hiking trail that, best to our awareness, had no one else.
And even if it did turn out there were other people there, I had a feeling the sight of Mason would make them walk away.
Mason took a couple of seconds to hop off his bike, remove his helmet, and take off his sunglasses. The sun by now had reached that point where it still looked beautiful but wasn’t blinding anymore. That Black Reapers cut of his was staying on, though. I knew full well, even before ever running into any of these guys, that I had a better chance of seeing them naked in public than I did clothed but without their cut on.
It might as well have been a tattoo of sorts, a permanent mark of theirs.
I got out of the car.
“Still can’t believe you’re doing this,” Mason said. “You’re either one crazy girl or one courageous girl.”
I shrugged.
“Or both. Come on.”
I felt my hand brush with his as I walked past him to the trail. For a moment, goosebumps ran up my body as I thought he was going to take it in his. But the feeling proved fleeting, because Mason kept his hands by his side and his head on a swivel.
We’d have to work on this romantic side of him some.
I led the walk ahead, slowly becoming more and more energized by the fact that I could move ahead without having to watch my back. I called to Mason and asked him if he liked hikes like this, but the lack of anything more than a casual grunt told me we needed to find a quiet spot first before we could have a real conversation. Fortunately, with no one else in the parking lot and no one else on the trail, I didn’t think such a request would be too hard to fulfill.
We found a spot where we could see Santa Maria in the distance. It wasn’t the greatest view I’d ever seen, for “seeing Santa Maria” was really just saying I could see a stretch of what looked like two, sometimes three-story buildings in the distance. But it was one of the first times I’d ever seen a building in my hometown from such a faraway distance.
“Not bad, huh?” I said.
