Please say yes, please say…
“Sure, it’s fine,” he replied, barely looking at me. “I haven’t had anything to drink yet. I only just got back into town.”
“You good with that, Laney?” she asked, looking at me doubtfully, but I nodded quickly—possibly too quickly, because I saw the corner of her mouth crinkle up in a knowing smirk and her uncertainty vanished. “Okay, get her home safely, and Laney, let me know if you need me. I’m always here for you, sweetheart.”
I nodded again, watching as she walked away and feeling awful for how I had just spoken to her. She was just trying to be nice—just trying to help me—and it was a lot more than most people had ever done for me. But as usual, I’d pushed her away like I did with everyone else. I sighed and took a deep breath knowing I would have to speak to her tomorrow and apologize.
I finally looked up at Jesse. I was short and he was tall, and I had an athletic, slender frame where he was broad and bulky; we looked almost comical standing together. He looked down at me, his deep blue eyes roaming over my body and back up to my face, his jaw twitching as he clenched and unclenched it. Something hot blossomed to life inside of me and I looked away, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, as if he could see the things he did to my body without even touching me.
Ughhh, I’m pathetic.
“You want me to take her in the truck, Jesse?” one of the prospects asked, his gaze wandering over my body like Skinny’s had.
Jesse scowled, his expression hardening until the prospect took a small step back. He looked back down at me. “Come on, my bike’s this way,” he said, wrapping his hand around my bicep and tugging me. He let me go after several steps, but I could still feel his grip on me, the way his fingers had squeezed a little too tightly—almost possessively, as if he wanted to get me away from the other men—and the way his rough skin had felt on mine.
I let him guide me over to his bike, my gaze fixated on the sway of his hips as he walked and the firmness of his ass, and I practically walked right into his back when he came to a stop and turned to look at me.
“You okay?” he asked, a small laugh in his words.
“Umm, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head. “Just tired is all. It’s been a long day.”
He climbed on his bike, one long leg stretching over to the other side, and then he watched me, waiting for me to climb on behind him. He handed me a helmet and I wrapped my arms around his middle, almost tentatively until he grabbed my hands and pulled them tighter—tight enough to feel the bands of muscle around his waist.
“Hold on tight,” he said, his voice rumbling through his chest.
And I did.
I held on as if my life depended on it. I pressed my face against his back, taking in his scent of old leather and musk and sweat, and I watched the world pass me in a blur. I got lost in the sensations of the bike and of Jesse, the humming of the bike through my legs and the feel of his muscles tight under my hands, rippling with every corner we went round. I got lost in the ride, but mostly I got lost in Jesse. It was just what I needed to clear my head and soothe my heart.
When he pulled up to Gauge’s house twenty minutes later, I was breathless and I held onto him tightly, not ready for it to end just yet. My cheeks felt flushed, my adrenaline pumping even though for the first time in years I felt calm and relaxed. It was Jesse, I realized. He calmed me—my soul. He made me feel safe, and like I belonged. And for the first time since moving there, I realized that I wasn’t homesick and I didn’t feel lonely.
“We’re here.” His deep voice cut through the thoughts in my head, and his hand reached down to give my knee a small squeeze, his hand staying on my skin. A shiver trailed up my body and I swallowed, loving the feel of him next to me.
We sat in comfortable silence, the darkness surrounding us and keeping us trapped in the bubble that we found ourselves in. I held on tighter when I felt his muscles move, and I think he chuckled, though it didn’t feel like he was mocking me.
I closed my eyes, banishing the view of Gauge’s house, because Gauge was the last person I wanted to think about—especially with the way my body was feeling right then.
“Laney?”
“Yeah?” I replied, still not moving, still content to just sit there, the heat from his bike burning through my thighs and his scent wrapped around me.
“You maybe wanna go for a ride somewhere?” he asked, sounding almost shy.
“Yeah,” I replied instantly.
“Good. Because I’m not ready to let you go just yet,” he said, and I think my heart skipped a beat.
His muscles tightened again and then we were peeling away from the sidewalk and heading back out on the road, and I smiled contentedly, never wanting that feeling to end.
