Andromeda glows in red neon; a stark contrast against the darkened sky, acting as a beacon to the citizens of Ridgewood who dare enter the glorified biker bar.
The building itself is black, a worn-down hole-in-the-wall with paint-chipped siding, no windows, and an oversized parking lot, which, to my surprise, is nearly full.
No less than forty motorcycles take up the first two rows of parking, and the rest of the spots are filled with a collection of vehicles—new and old—all empty as the patrons enjoy themselves inside.
I, on the other hand, have been sitting here for thirty minutes. My stomach turns as I continue to debate whether to get out of the truck.
Driving to Ridgewood was a foolish mistake. One I make more often than I care to admit. But this time my excuse is legitimate—Dylan’s words got under my skin.
The thought of Indy having a boyfriend tears me up inside. And if it’s true, all I want to do is throw caution to the wind and talk some sense into her.
She’smine. She has to be. I haven’t given up on this yet.
But I know it’s not my place, nor is it my business. I know that.
And I fucking hate it.
It’s been thirteen years of knowing each other, and neither of us have ever been in a serious relationship. I know I can’t speak for her, but I know exactly why I haven’t had that urge to settle down with someone, or hell, even give it a second thought.
How can I when every fiber of my being yearns forher?
I knew the moment my lips touched hers back when I was seventeen years old, she ruined me.
Even now, I will gladly fall to my knees in her presence and worship the ground she walks on if it means getting to enjoy her company for even just a few minutes.
There’s nothing I want more than for her to feel the same as I do.
But if she has a boyfriend…
Movement from across the parking lot catches my attention, and my head snaps to the entrance of the bar.
Magenta soaks my vision. Indy’s hair falls down her back in vibrant waves, bouncing slightly with each step she takes further from the door.
She’s alone, and once she reaches the edge of the building, I practically see her breathe a sigh of relief for the solitude. Leaning against the wall, her eyes close.
Instinctively, I scan the parking lot, but there’s no one around to bother her.
No one except me.
My heart rate accelerates. Should I confront her? Ask her why now? Why this guy?
That’s what I came here to do, right?
In a brief moment of insanity, my hand grips the door. I don’t take my eyes off of Indy, but the moment I engage the handle and it clicks open my phone vibrates with an incoming message.
Austin
Yo, any chance I left my practice cleats in your truck? I can’t find them for the life of me.
My face crumples. Pulling the door shut, I glance over at the passenger side floorboard. I don’t even remember the last time Austin was in my truck, let alone him leaving something behind.
No, I don’t see them.
That was fast. Thanks for looking. Where are you at this hour?
He’s nosy as ever, but Austin doesn’t know anything about me and this little predicament I find myself in.
Instead, I find myself texting Jensen to see if he can talk me out of doing something stupid.
