Текст книги "Ten Tiny Breaths"

Автор книги: K. A. Tucker

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Stage Four ~ Acceptance

Chapter Seven

“So, what’d ya think?” Storm interrupts the silence in the car on the ride home.

I frown, not understanding her question. My mind’s still stuck on Trent, on the feel of his hand; on me, standing there like an idiot, not saying a thing. I’m so wound up over Trent and that pivotal moment that I’m for once not fazed by the confines of Storm’s Jeep. He held my hand. Trent held my hand and I didn’t drown.

I notice Storm’s small fists curled tightly around her steering wheel and she’s looking everywhere but at me. She’s nervous. “What do I think about what?” I ask slowly.

“About … my show?”

Oh! Right. “I don’t know how those boobs of yours don’t throw your balance off.”

Her head tips back and she laughs. “It took some getting used to, believe me.”

“Seriously, that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. What the hell are you doing in a strip club? You could be in Cirque du Soleil or some shit like that.”

I catch a hint of sadness in her giggle. “Not a lifestyle I can handle anymore. That means training all day and shows all night. I can’t do that with Mia to care for.”

“Why is this the first show I’ve seen?”

“I can’t do that every night. It’s hard enough to stay upright and get a bit of a work out in everyday.”

Huh. Storm works out. I had no idea. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugs. “We all have our secrets.”

My eyes drift out the window. “Well, that’s one hell of a way to reveal a secret.”

She chuckles, nodding in agreement. There’s a pause. “How was your little chat with Trent?”

“Oh, life altering.” His touch still lingers on my fingers and I can’t shake the pleading sound of his voice. Raw shame has settled on my shoulders. I should have answered him. Instead, I let Nate toss him out like a drunken ass.

I hate the feel of being in my skin right now.

We drive a few more minutes without talking. Then Storm breaks the silence with a full frontal assault. “Kace, what happened to you?” My jaw instantly clenches, unprepared, but she rushes on. “I still don’t know you at all. Given I’ve pretty much bared all. Literally. I was hoping you’d trust me to do the same.”

“You want me to spin around on a hoop and take my top off?” I joke, my voice flat. I know that’s not what she means.

“I asked Livie and she wouldn’t tell me. She said you needed to.” She says that in a low voice, like she knows she wasn't supposed to ask Livie in the first place.

My gut sinks to the floor. “Livie knows better than to tell anyone my secrets.”

“You need to start talking to someone, Kacey. That’s the only way to get better.”

“There’s no getting better, Storm. This is it.” There’s no coming back from the dead. I try to keep the coldness from my voice, but I can’t help it. It’s there.

“I’m your friend, Kacey. Whether you like it or not. I may have only known you for a few weeks, but I’ve trusted you. I’ve trusted your sister with my five year old, invited you into my home, and got you a job. Not to mention that you’ve folded my underwear and seen me naked.”

“All that without giving you my number. Oh, the guys at my gym would be so proud of me.”

We pull into the parking lot outside our apartment as my hand works fretfully over the door handle, the confines of Storm’s Jeep as it morphs into a confessional tin can overwhelming.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m not an idiot. I don’t do that with everyone. But there’s something about you. I could see it from day one. It’s like you’re fighting against being yourself. Every time a little bit of the real you escapes, you shut it down. Cover it up.” Her voice is so soft and yet it makes me break out in a cold sweat.

The real me. Who is that? All I know is that since moving to Miami, my carefully crafted defenses have been attacked from all angles. Even Mia and her gapped tooth grins have managed to worm their way into the cracks in my armor. No matter how many times I tell myself I don’t care, I’m starting to find my heart beating a little bit faster and my shoulders lift a little bit higher when I make them laugh.

“You don’t have to tell me everything, Kace. Not all at once. Why not just one little thing every day?”

I rub my brow as I try to find a way out of this. After the last time I blew her off, I thought she’d give up. But she’s just been biding her time. What if I bolt out of this car right now? Maybe this is a turning point in our friendship. Maybe she’ll write me off if I do something like that again. A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me that will bother me. And Livie. That will outright crush her and I can’t do that. I hear Livie’s voice in my head. Try. I know I have to. For Livie.

“Four years ago, my parents, my boyfriend, and my best friend died in a drunk driving accident.”

There’s a long pause. I don’t even have to look to know that tears run down Storm’s cheeks. People crying over it doesn’t faze me anymore. I’ve permanently shut off that tear-jerking switch.

“I’m so sorry, Kacey.”

I nod. Everyone apologizes and I don’t know why. They weren’t the douche bags in the other car.

“Do you remember any of it?”

“No,” I lie. Storm doesn’t need to hear how I remember every single moment trapped in the mangled Audi. She doesn’t need to hear how I listened to the hissing sound of my mother’s last breath, the noise that haunts me every night. Or how on one side my friend Jenny’s broken body molded itself against the car and how on the other, my hand lay trapped in my boyfriend’s hand, sensing every degree drop as heat left his corpse. How I had to sit in that car, unmoving, surrounded by the bodies of those I loved for hours while the emergency crew struggled to cut me out. I shouldn’t have survived.

I don’t know who let me live.

Storm’s soft voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Were you driving?”

I turn to glare at her. “Do you think I’d be sitting here now if I had been?”

She flinches. “Sorry. What happened to the drunk driver?”

I shrug noncommittally, staring straight ahead again. “He died. He had two friends in his car. One died. One walked away. That guy’s out there, living his life right now,” I answer, my words oozing with bitterness.

“Have you ever met him?”

“Never,” I whisper. The truth is I went out of my way to know nothing about him. About any of them. I wanted them to not exist. Unfortunately, I saw their names in the insurance papers they made me sign. Those names made them real, searing into my mind so I couldn’t possibly ever forget. They were three real people. Real people who murdered my family.

“God, Kacey.” She sniffles. “Have you had therapy?”

“What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?” I snap.

“I’m … I’m sorry.” The car is filled with Storm’s muffled sobs. She’s trying to contain them, to be strong, I can tell by the way she keeps sucking in her breaths.

My anger morphs into guilt and I bite my lip. Hard. The coppery taste of blood coats my tongue. Storm’s been nothing but kind to me and I’m nothing but a bitch to her. “I’m sorry, Storm,” I force out the words. Even though I mean them, they’re still hard to get out.

She reaches for my hand but, remembering, places her palm on my forearm.

That little gesture is enough to melt my icy defenses and I start rambling. “I was in the hospital and rehab for almost a year. Doctors visited me there. Not much after that though. Apparently zombie drugs and daily rounds of Kumbaya will solve all my problems. When I got out, my aunt insisted I talk to the counselors at her church. They suggested she put me in a serious rehabilitation program because I’m a broken young woman full of rage and hatred who could become harmful to herself and others if let loose.” That last part is almost word for word what they said. My aunt’s answer to that was leaving a bible on my nightstand. In her view, reading the bible fixes everything.

“Where’s this aunt now?”

“Back in Michigan with her disgusting husband who tried to molest Livie.” Silence. “Is that what you wanted to hear, Storm? That you have a walking head case living next to you?”

She turns to look at me, wiping tears from her cheeks with her palms. “You’re not a head case, Kacey. But you do need help. Thank you for telling me. It means a lot. One day it will get easier. One day this hatred won’t confine you anymore. You’ll be free. You’ll be able to forgive.”

I vaguely notice my head nodding. I don’t believe her. Not a word.

The atmosphere of the Jeep has dropped seven levels below unpleasant. I’ve bared more to Storm than I ever have to anyone else and its left me drained. “Look at you—Stripper Acrobat by night, Deep Thought Provoker by … later night.”

Storm snorts. “I prefer just ‘Acrobat.’ My clothes happen to fall off sometimes, unexpectedly.” She nudges my arm. “Come on. That’s enough exposing for one night. For both of us.”

Now that I’ve survived the conversation with Storm, my thoughts move back to Trent with a vengeance, the need to feel that intoxicating life trumping all other desires. I didn’t answer him. I should have answered him. I need to tell him that I’m better than okay. That I think I might need him.

The faint sound of laughter carries through the commons as Storm and I walk through the shadows. Some of the college students in the building still up, partying. I wonder what that would be like—hanging out with friends, drinking, having a normal life—as we round the corner to our apartments.

A silhouette moves past the curtain in 1D.

I stumble, my pulse quickening. Then, without thinking, I walk up to the door and stand in front of it.

“See you tomorrow,” I hear Storm call out as she continues on and I can tell she’s smiling.

Inhaling deeply, gathering all the courage I can muster, I lift my hand to knock, but the door flies opens before my knuckles make contact. Trent steps into the doorway, shirtless and expressionless and my mouth instantly dries. I’m sure he’s going to tell me to go to Hell. I wait for it. I’m terrified to hear it.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything. He’s waiting for me, I realize. There’s just one word I need to give him. Yes. It might make this all better. Yes, Trent. Yes, it’s okay. I open my mouth and find that I can’t. I can’t form a single word that will impress upon him the gravity of the situation.

With wooden movements, I step forward. He doesn’t back away. He just watches me, his bare sculpted chest and pants hanging low off his hips taunting me. He’s as hot as he ever could be. I could spend days with that body. For once, I hope that I will.

But that’s not what I need right now.

I cautiously reach out, my stomach muscles coiled into a tight ball, suddenly panicked that whatever I felt earlier might be temporary, that I’ve lost it again. When my fingertips graze his and warmth spreads through me, that dread evaporates.

His warmth. His life.

Closing my eyes, I slide my hand further in, slipping my fingers between his and curling them around. My lips part in a small gasp when his grip tightens over mine. He doesn’t move closer though. He doesn’t try anything or say anything. We stand like that, in the doorway, our hands entwined, for what feels like forever.

“Yes,” I finally whisper breathlessly.

“Yes?”

I’m vaguely aware that my head is bobbing. So intense is this high that nothing else matters. I let him gently pull me in. The door clicks closed behind me and he smoothly guides me into his dark apartment with a hand pressed against the small of my back. Down the hall, and into his bed, his sheets cool and crisp and smelling of fabric softener. I sense, rather than see, Trent’s body slide in behind me, pressing up against me from toes to shoulder, never once letting go of my hand. Not once. I snuggle against him, reveling in his warmth.

And in that heavenly peace, I fall asleep.

***

A hissing sound …

Bright lights …

Blood …

I’m gasping.

Slow rhythmic breathing next to me helps regulate my own heart rate as I wake up from my nightmare. At first, I assume it’s Livie, but then I feel my hand wound into someone’s large, hot hand—not Livie’s hand.

I roll my head to see Trent’s perfect form, the peaks and ripples of his chest, his face relaxed and boyish. I could lay here and stare at him forever. I don’t want to let go. Ever.

That’s why I have to.

I slip my hand out carefully and slide from the comfort of Trent’s bed, closing the door softly behind me as I exit his apartment.

***

Livie’s waiting for me in the kitchen, getting breakfast before heading off to school, her eyes wide with worry. “You stayed at Trent’s?” Her tone is half-accusatory, half astonished.

“Nothing happened, Livie.”

“Nothing?” She glares at me. There’s one thing Livie can do well. Glare until you squirm when you’ve lied.

“I held his hand,” I whisper finally. To anyone outside listening in, we’d sound like a bunch of nine year olds. But to Livie, who understands the impact of this, this is huge.

She’s speechless for a moment, sputtering gurgles and half-words. “Is this … do you think this could be something more?” she finally asks.

I shrug indifferently but the heat creep to my cheeks, giving away my excitement.

“You’re blushing!”

I pick up a Cheerio and toss it at her head.

She dodges it deftly, smiling. “I think this could be it. I think Trent could finally bring Kacey back to me.”

I wonder if she’s right. But I just snuck out of his apartment without a note or anything. He might not appreciate that. A twinge of worry jabs me but I supress it. I had no choice. If I had stayed, I know exactly what we’d be doing right now and it isn’t thinking. I need time to think and adjust to this new reality.

I feel Livie’s excitement right down to my bones. For three years, my baby sister has begged me to let go of Billy and move on. The thing is, my issue hasn’t been about moving on from my feelings for Billy. Of course, I cared about him. Did I think he was “the one?” I’ll never know. At sixteen, everyone is “the one.”

No, my issue has been that, because of those last moments with Billy, the very idea of my hands wrapped in someone else’s has plagued me, making my heart stop, my stomach drop, my vision blurry, my muscles spasm, and sweat pour down my back all at once.

Until now.

This is different. This feels … right again.

Chapter Eight

“You look fabulous!” Mia drawls, impersonating her mother and making us all laugh. Storm’s making veal parmesan and I’m modeling my new outfits. I’d exhausted Storm’s closet and needed a few things of my own, so we spent the afternoon at the mall buying clothes. I let Storm coordinate the outfits. I don’t have the first clue how to dress appropriately for a job at a strip club, even after weeks working there. In any case, the ordeal gave me good distraction from Trent.

“I think I’ll wear this tonight,” I announce, coming out in a short emerald green tunic dress that falls off one shoulder and nude heels.

“Good choice! Can you set the table, Kace?” Storm asks as she bends down to check the oven.

“You know you’re going to have to let me cook one day, right?” We’ve spent every night at Storm’s for dinner for weeks.

“I like to cook.”

“Maybe I do too,” I throw back, placing the plates on the table, earning a derisive snort from Livie.

“You’re short one setting,” Storm says with a peek at the table.

I frown. “Uh, no? Four people, four places.”

“We need five,” she says without making eye contact.

“Storm?”

Someone knocks on the door.

“Storm?”

Mia hops to her feet and runs to it, throwing it open with a dramatic bow.

I suck air into my lungs as Trent steps in and I can’t help but gawk. He’s in dark blue jeans again, but he’s wearing a button down white shirt, untucked. I manage to peel my eyes from him long enough to flash a look of “you’re going to pay for this” surprise Storm’s way before turning back to focus on him, all kinds of nervousness and excitement and guilt churning inside me. I don’t know why. Trent and I held hands while watching my friend dance naked. Trent rescued me in the apartment building’s now-infamous snake-attack, and then I jumped him. I spent a night in his bed with him. Eating dinner with him—and my sister and neighbors—hardly qualifies as an intimate encounter that justifies thrashing butterflies. And yet, here I am, ready to pass out.

Mia bows dramatically. “Welcome, kind Sir. Princess Mia has been awaiting your presence.”

Even Mia knew! That little devil.

From behind his back, Trent produces a bunch of five pink roses. He kneels on one knee to present it to her. I hear the collective sigh from all the grown women in the group, including myself.

“Thank you for inviting me,” he says. She clutches the flowers in both her tiny hands, and then gazes at Trent with wide, starry eyes that don’t blink for far too long. Her cheeks flush and I can tell this is the moment where Mia falls in love with him. This tall stranger has just become her life-long prince.

The moment passes rapidly, and then she turns around and runs toward Storm. “Mommy! Mommy! Look what that man gave me!”

Trent winks as he shuts the door behind him, closing the distance to where I’m standing. “You disappeared this morning,” he whispers.

This is so awkward. Thanks, Storm. “I … I know … I’m …” I’m about to say I’m sorry, but he winks.

“It’s okay. I figured it was all a bit too much, too fast.” One finger hooks into mine, buckling my knees with waves of excitement.

I think I’m going to fall in love with this man.

Trent’s gaze drifts over my outfit and I catch the heat in it. Probably the exact same heat as in mine when I look at him. “You look … nice.”

We’re still staring awkwardly at each other, when Livie clears her throat. “Dinner’s ready.”

Storm’s tiny apartment pulses with a warm current as the five of us devour Storm’s cooking. Somehow the snake fiasco comes up and I become the butt of everyone’s jokes. Even Mia joins in, nibbling on my shoulder like a mock– monster. Except she has no front teeth so it’s more like gumming. And through it all, I can’t help but constantly touch Trent’s face with my eyes to find his on mine just as frequently.

By the time dinner is done, and we’re saying our good-byes so Storm and I can head off to work, every fiber of my being craves Trent and I have no interest in pretending otherwise.

***

“Who’s Penny? Clearly someone important.” I gesture to the sign as we pull up in front of the club.

Storm’s fingers tap her steering wheel and her perma-smile falters. “Penny was a really nice girl who met a really bad guy.” She turns to look at me. “Five years ago, Cain ran a club downtown. It was a dive compared to this place. Penny was his star attraction. I hear she brought guys in from all over the state and into Alabama. She started dating this guy, and things got serious. He proposed. Everyone was happy for her. He’d come watch her dance sometimes. He’d give her little kisses and hugs throughout the night. Watch over her a bit. You know, really sweet stuff. Of course, he said once they were married, she’d have to quit. She was fine with that.” Storm’s voice turns somber.

“One night, something happened. No one knows what exactly. One second this guy has his arm around Penny, the next, he’s dragging her to the backroom by her throat. Nate couldn’t get there in time. He found her on the ground with a cracked skull.”

I clutch my throat.

“I know. Terrible, right? Cain shut down that place. There was a whole murder investigation. He bought this location and opened under the new name, in honor of her.” We exit the car and head toward the back door. “That’s why the bouncers are so strict about patrons touching the staff. It doesn’t matter if the guy’s your husband. If he touches you, he’s out. More than once, and he’s barred for life.”

“Huh …” My thoughts drift back to last night, when Nate kicked Trent out for holding my hand. I thought he was being an asshole. Now, I want to hug him. Or a part of him, given I’d need a ladder and extendable arms to get around his mammoth size.

I follow Storm’s black-clad form to the door. Just before she knocks, she turns and smiles, like she can read my mind. “They’re genuinely good guys, Kacey. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Cain’s been nothing but amazing with me. He lets me bartend, he set the stage and equipment up for me to do my act once in a while, and that’s all. No rounds, no lap dances, no private stuff. The bouncers collect my tips from my show so I don’t have to crawl around on the ground, collecting it myself. They’ll take care of you. You’ll see.”

***

When Trent shows up at half past eleven and takes a seat at the bar, my brain instantly scatters. The fact that I slept in his bed last night, and had dinner with him earlier doesn’t help me relax around him. I think it’s actually made me more nervous. One … two … three …Ugh! As usual, my mother’s advice doesn’t help.

I stroll over, trying to regulate my heart rate as I take in his beautiful features. They really are beautiful. He could grace the cover of any magazine. And that mouth … I bite my lip, trying not to get all flustered. “Triple scotch on the rocks?” I quirk my brow.

He flashes those disarming dimples at me. “Hold the scotch and add some soda to the rocks, and you’ve got a deal.”

I smile as I throw together his drink, and slide it toward him, our fingertips brushing for a millisecond. With a nervous glance over at Nate, I see his focus elsewhere, and I sigh in relief.

“Don’t worry, I know the rules at these places.”

“Frequent much?” I ask dryly.

He shakes his head with a wry grin. “Standard protocol. Some places are more strict than others, but they’re all the same. I have no interest in getting kicked out again. Once was enough.”

I feel a twinge of guilt over that, knowing it was my fault. Trent’s wink dissolves it instantly. I want to stay and talk to him but there’s a gaggle of customers waiting. I’m forced to leave him with a disappointed shrug. I spend the next hour pouring drinks for customers while my nerves prickle under Trent’s undivided attention.

“Too bad it’s so busy here,” he says when I get back to where he’s sitting.

“Yeah well, some of us have to work to survive,” I quip and I realize I have no clue what he does. I know nothing about him.

“And when are you off next?” he asks casually, sliding a coaster around under his index finger.

“Monday.”

Trent gets to his feet and throws a twenty on the counter. “So you’re free Monday night, say around five?”

“Maybe.”

His grin widens. “Great.” With a wink, he turns around. I watch him leave the bar, frustration that he’s gone weighing me down.

Storm leans in. “What was that about?”

I shrug, the lingering feel of his eyes still on my body. “I’m not sure. I think he just asked me on a date.” A rush of adrenaline bursts through me. That sure as hell better be what he just did or I’m going to lose my shit tomorrow.

Storm gives my shoulder an affectionate squeeze, and I don’t flinch. I smile at her. I smile at the guy across the bar, waiting for his drink. Heck, I even give Nate a goofy wide grin. I’m not sure, but I think I catch the corner of his mouth twitch upward for a second.

***

I feel like a lightning bolt struck me the second I wake up Monday morning. Not because I had another nightmare.

Because I didn’t.

That never happens. In the last four years, that has never happened. I don’t know what to make of it, but I feel … free.

And then I remember that I have a date tonight with Trent. All else is forgotten.

***

“Nice nails,” Livie notices two seconds after stepping through the door. She drops her backpack on the couch, her eyes widening with surprise for just a second. I spread my fingers out in front of me, admiring the black polish. “Where’d you get that done?” Her voice is slightly higher than normal and she’s trying not to make a big deal, I can tell.

But it is a big deal.

Today, I let a complete stranger touch my hands. And I didn’t flinch.

It’s like Trent has broken my curse.

“A spa down the street. They have a two-for-one manicure special on Thursdays. We should go together next time.”

“Uh huh, and what’s the occasion?” Livie strolls toward the cupboard to grab a glass, pacing her steps as if she’s a bridesmaid walking down a church aisle. I want to laugh. She’s trying so hard not to freak out.

“Oh, nothing.” I wait until she tips the Brita to her glass “I’m going out with Trent tonight.”

Her head shoots up to meet me and she misses the cup, spilling water all over the floor. “Like … on a date?”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Maybe. I guess you could …”

Livie’s irises flash with delight. “Where are you guys going?”

I shrug. “Probably the beach. Isn’t that what people do on first dates?” I have no idea. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything remotely date-like.

There’s a long pause as Livie’s thoughts wander somewhere, likely trying to process this new Kacey, the one who goes on dates and gets manicures. And cares. “You know, we don’t know much about Trent, do we?” Her head tilts to the side curiously. “What does he do for a living?”

I shrug. “No idea.”

A darkness passes over Livie’s pretty face. I wait patiently for her to bite her lip for all of two seconds before she blurts out, “what if he’s a psychopath who tries to stuff kittens in ATMs?”

“A hot psychopath,” I correct her and she scowls at me. “Come on, Livie. I didn’t get you away from Darla soon enough.”

“Maybe you should find out more about Trent before agreeing to go out with him.”

“I didn’t agree to go out with him.”

“What?” She pauses. “Well then …”

I cut her off. “We know nothing about each other. More importantly, he knows nothing about me. Just the way I like it.”

Her lips press together tightly.

“Oh, Livie, stop acting like the mature one here.”

“Someone needs to.” She stoops to wipe the water with a dish towel. “I’ll be at Storm’s for dinner. Can you at least phone her later to let us know he didn’t stuff you into an ATM? And we need to get cell phones if you’re going to start going out with strange men.”

I chuckle and nod.

She stops and appraises me again with a small smile. “It’s nice to see you like this … again. What time do you think you’ll be home?”

I wink.

“Oh, Kacey.” she mutters, tossing the dish towel into the sink.

***

By the time five rolls around, I’m pacing in my living room like a caged bear, counting to ten under my breath, over and over. Waves of excitement, nervousness, and fear chuck my insides back and forth, until I’m sure I’ll toss the contents of my lunch onto the hideous carpet.

Right on cue, a soft knock sounds on the door. I open it to find Trent standing outside in jeans and a blue and white checkered shirt and aviator sunglasses, leaning against the door frame with one arm above his head. My entire body breaks out in a light sweat.

“Nice door,” he says, sliding off his sunglasses. I catch myself staring into those gorgeous blue irises a tad too long before I make a sound.

He’s being playful. I like playful. “Thanks. It’s new. We had to replace it after a crazed maniac busted through.” I smirk, proud of myself for managing that, even in Trent’s intensely hot presence.

He laughs as he reaches in to hook his index finger around mine. Electricity streams through my limbs with that small amount of contact. He pulls me out into the open, into his chest, so that he towers over me, and I have to tilt my head back to meet his face. “I heard about that. Terrible situation. Did they finally catch that madman?” he murmurs, smirking.

I pause to inhale. He smells likes the ocean and the woods. And raw desire. “The last I heard he was lurking around a gentleman’s establishment. Clearly he has deep-seeded issues. I think they’re closing in.” I add breathlessly, “I think they’ll catch him tonight.”

Trent’s head tips back and he laughs. “Maybe they will.” He drapes his arm around my shoulder as he leads me out toward the parking lot. “That color looks incredible on you,” he says, gazing down at my emerald green shirt, . “Compliments your hair nicely.”

“Thanks.” I smile, silently praising myself for buying it today, for the very reason that I know it looks nice against my dark red hair and ivory skin. People think I dye my hair to make it so dark and rich, but I don’t. That’s one way in which I’m lucky, I guess.

Trent leads me to a red and orange Harley in the parking lot. “Have you ever ridden on one of these?” He holds out a helmet. So Trent’s a bike guy. Inspecting the thing, I’m not sure how I feel about that. I think he may have just climbed a few notches in the hot bad boy department.

I shake my head as I look down at the bike with hesitation. “Not a lot of protection between me and three tons of moving metal when I’m on this,” I say. Who am I kidding? I’m not safe riding in three tons of metal. I’ve learned that firsthand.

A gentle fingertip pushes my chin up until I’m looking at Trent’s earnest eyes. “I’ll keep you safe, Kacey. Just hold on to me. Tight.” I let him place the helmet on my head and gently fasten the strap around my chin, his deft fingers brushing my skin in a way that sends shivers through my body. A ghost of a smile passes his lips. “Or are you too scared?”

Now he’s challenging me. Like he knows I’ll react to that. I can’t help but react. I’m like one of those idiots in the movies who slams on their gas pedal and attempts to sail over a two hundred foot gap in the road because someone said the word dare. My dad got hours of entertainment at my expense for that reason.

“I’m not scared of anything,” I lie smoothly. I climb on behind Trent and shimmy up until my thighs hug either side of his hips. Heat explodes through the lower half of my body, but I do my best to ignore it, wrapping my arms around his torso.

“Nothing, at all? Not even a bit nervous?” his brow quirks as he glances over his shoulder at me. “It’s okay. You can admit it. Most girls are nervous about riding on bikes.”

A flash of jealousy sparks inside of me at the thought of him with another girl. I quickly quell it. “Do I seem like most girls?” My hands slide around his chest, running along the contours of his body, my fingers slipping through the seam of his shirt to graze the smooth ridges of his muscles underneath. For added effect, I lean forward and press my teeth against his shoulder.