Riley
Ilook at myself again in the mirror as I hear him parking in the street. I take a deep breath, then exhale. I’m nervous and worked up, as if this were a first date. Let’s just say that’s what it is; it’s useless to call it anything else.
When I open the front door, I see him standing there, proud and confident in his white shirt under a leather jacket, his unkempt beard and crooked smile, I close my eyes instinctively to stop the warmth growing from down there then climbing up my entire body, landing on my cheeks.
“I’m early,” he says, looking at his watch.
“I’m ready.”
I have been for about an hour. Even if I changed five times only to go back to what I had on in the first place.
I take the keys and my bag and close the door behind me.
“Everything okay?” he asks behind me.
A shiver runs through my body.
I nod and walk the few steps over to his motorbike. He hands me the helmet and gets on, extending his hand to me which I accept. I place mine in his, feeling its heat rising, and my heart goes wild. Now I just want to get on the bike without humiliating myself.
“Hold on tight,” he says, before doing a U-turn and pulling out onto the street.
I hold onto his waist, not too tightly or too loosely. I slide my hands under his jacket, over his shirt, and I feel his muscles contract at my touch. I sit straight up against his back, grabbing onto his chest and abandoning myself to this feeling of peace, to these new healthy emotions – I’m aware it could destroy me, but I don’t want to give up this opportunity, not before seriously hurting myself.
We head towards the city centre, merging into traffic on O’Connell Street. Ian turns down an alley where I see a spot for motorbike parking.
He turns off the engine and gives me his hand once again to help me get off. I take off the helmet and give it back to him before running a hand through my hair to smooth it back into place.
I look up and catch him staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head and puts away both of our helmets. “Nothing.”
“Weren’t we supposed to be honest with each other tonight?”
“Jesus, Riley, you’re…you’re…shit.”
“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”
He bursts out laughing and shakes his head. Then he comes closer and squeezes my waist with his hands.
“I don’t know how to tell you without sounding like an idiot, or an arsehole who just wants to jump into bed with you - but you’re the most real and beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I lower my gaze in embarrassment.
He takes my chin in his fingers and lifts it so that we’re eye to eye again.
“I just wanted you to know. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I swear I’ll shut my mouth and stop talking.”
I smile again as my cheeks go aflame.
He lets me go, slowly.
“Th-thanks,” I stutter.
“Are you hungry?”
“Er…” I reply uncertainly.
