Hal’s lips twist into a grimace. “I’m sorry, wild girl. That’s not my story to tell. Speaking of stories, how’d you end up at the garage with Azrael?”
I let Hal not so subtly change the subject. I wouldn’t appreciate Charlie or Coop sharing my fucked-up story with anyone without my permission, so I understand why he’s hesitant to say anything. It just shows what a good friend he is.
“Oh, the usual.” I shrug and look as casual as I can. “He showed up at my apartment for some reason, told me I was fixing my thermostat wrong, then kidnapped me.”
Hal’s eyes widen. “Please tell me Az didn’t actually kidnap you. I honestly wouldn’t put it past him, but I thought he had more sense than that.”
I chuckle. “No, he didn’t. He just wouldn’t accept ‘no’ for an answer when I said I didn’t want to ride on the back of his bike.”
His eyebrows raise. “He let you ride on the back? I’m surprised. Az normally won’t let anyone ride behind him.”
My heart gives a pathetic little thump in my chest at that, like I’m somehow special to Azrael. Even though I know, without a doubt, I’m not.
Needing something to distract myself from the stupid hope blooming in me that Azrael will ever view me as anything more than a nuisance, I stare at the motorcycles. “So, you have a favorite one of your bikes?”
Hal scoffs and gives me a look like I’m being ridiculous. “Of course. My KLR 650s are obviously my favorite. All four of them.”
I look out over their impressive collection and see if I can spot which ones Hal’s talking about. When I can’t, I turn back to him and ask, “What is a KLR 650?”
Clutching at his chest like I wounded him, Hal gasps dramatically. “You don’t know what a KLR is? That’s a travesty. Stay right there. I’ll be back!”
Before I can say anything, Hal darts off to his bike collection. It doesn’t take him long to come back with a bike. Once he sets it in front of me, he rushes back out before I can say anything. He does this three more times until there are four motorcycles in front of me.
They look like a cross between a dirt bike and a street motorcycle. I’ve never really seen anything like it. “Those are KLRs?”
Hal’s chest puffs up in pride as he surveys his machines. “You bet your cute butt they are. Kawasaki KLR 650s are a hybrid between a dual-sport and an adventure bike. They’re tall, slow, and suck at everything, but I love them so much. My favorite is probably the ’97 Kickstart KLR. It’s the first one I ever got.”
I duck my head as my cheeks heat at him calling my butt cute. I’m sure he was just saying it to be funny, but it still makes my insides feel all warm and gooey.
He points at the blue-and-purple bike that looks kind of like a nineties jazz cup threw up on it. I can’t help but grin at the crazy design and Hal’s enthusiasm. “They look pretty cool. Maybe I’ll have to find one to ride sometime to try it out.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be silly, wild girl. Just lemme know when you wanna ride, and you can borrow one of my KLRs. Hell, you can borrow any bike from my collection if you want.”
He’s being so sweet and thoughtful that I suddenly feel really bad about changing my number without telling him. Plus, he might still need something else for the bike purchase, so he should probably have a way to contact me.
“I changed my number,” I blurt.
Hal tilts his head as he examines me. “Thank you for telling me, wild girl. I’d be pretty bummed if I didn’t have a way to talk to you. Why’d you change it?”
I studiously avoid his gaze, not wanting to tell him why but also not wanting to lie to him. “I had some problems with my old one. So, would you like it?”
He gives me a droll look. “Of course I want it. But I don’t want it just so I can contact you about your 636, you know.”
My eyes bounce between his for a long moment as I try to figure him out.
“What are we doing here, Hal?” I whisper. “What do you want from me?”
Stepping between my slightly parted legs, Hal gently grips my chin and tilts my face up so I’m staring directly into his light green eyes. “I want whatever you’re willing to give, Lark. Whether that’s being riding buddies, friends, or… more.”
With him in my space, I can’t think properly. It feels like his presence consumes all the oxygen in the room, and it makes me feel all fuzzy.
When I process what he said, it feels like I’ve been dunked in ice water.
“I can’t…” I whimper, feeling the panic rise at the thought of being in another relationship. “I can’t do more, Hal. Not right now. Probably not ever. I just can’t.”
My only real experience with being in a relationship is with Andrew. And I barely escaped that one alive.
I can’t go back to being involved with anyone, because that means he’ll own me, mind, body, and soul. He’ll be able to do whatever he wants to me, and I won’t be able to stop it because we’re in a relationship. He’ll be able to hurt me, and it’ll always be my fault.
