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The pace picks up; the patrons begin their nightly ritual of farewells and last-minute drinks. I let them draw it out, this bar was my home for too many nights to count. Spending a little more time here will do my soul some good.
CHAPTER 8
JANE
The streets of my small town stretch out before us, a patchwork of shadows and dim streetlights. The night air carries the scent of rain that’s held off for days now, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding woods. Storefronts stand like silent sentinels, their windows darkened, save for the occasional flicker from a neon ‘Open’ sign that seems to hesitate before deciding it’s too late for business.
“Quiet night,” I murmur, my breath visible in the cool air.
“Always is around this time,” Texas replies, his voice low and steady. His boots click against the pavement, an unhurried rhythm that matches the calmness of his demeanor.
“Doesn’t it ever get to you? The silence?” I ask, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Sometimes,” he concedes, glancing at me with eyes reflecting the starlight. “But it’s moments like these when you can really hear yourself think.”
I nod, taking in the empty expanse, feeling the weight of my own thoughts pressing down. We pass by the old diner, its checkerboard floor barely visible through the glass. It’s where families come together, where pancakes are served with a side of laughter, and where every booth holds memories of shared secrets.
“Your family ever bring you there?” Texas asks, tipping his chin toward the diner.
“Once or twice,” I admit, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly. “Used to love their cherry pie.”
“Cherry pie, huh?” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice. “Guess we’ll have to make a stop sometime.”
“Maybe,” I say, allowing the hint of a promise to linger between us.
“Jane,” Texas says, breaking the comfortable silence, “you don’t have to be on guard with me. I’m not one of those guys from inside.”
I let out a slow breath, feeling the shield around me falter just a bit. “I know,” I whisper, a smile finding its way to my lips despite my best efforts. “It’s just... hard to shake off, you know?”
“Understandable.” He nods. “But you’re safe with me.”
The space between Texas and me could be crossed in a half-step, but it feels like miles of uncharted territory. As we walk, I’m acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his side. It’s this invisible force, pulling me closer, daring me to bridge the gap. My heart thumps—a wild drumbeat against my ribs—echoing the silent yearning that strains through the inches separating us.
“Ever ridden before by yourself?” His voice tumbles into the space between us, wrapped in that low, rumbling tone that sets my nerves on edge—in the best possible way.
“Once,” I reply, watching the gravel crunch under my boots. “It was... exhilarating.”
“Ah.” He nods, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “There’s nothing quite like it.”
The anticipation coils inside me, a spring wound tight, ready to snap. With each step, I steel myself against the urge to lean into him.
We reach the spot where his motorcycle waits—a sleek beast bathed in moonlight.
“Here she is,” Texas says, pride lacing his words.
“Beautiful,” I breathe out, drawn to the machine as much as to the man beside it. There’s a freedom here, a whisper of flight captured in chrome and leather.
“Ready to take her for a spin?” His eyebrow arches, challenging, inviting.
“Let’s do it.”
He swings a leg over the bike, settling in with an ease born from years of practice. I follow suit, gripping the edges of the seat before looking up at him. Our eyes meet, and in that glance, there’s an understanding—an agreement that despite the tragedies etched into our lives, we’re willing to chase this fleeting joy together.
“Clutch onto me, Jane,” he instructs, a playful note dancing beneath the command.
I slide my arms around his waist, feeling the solid wall of his back against my chest. The engine purrs beneath us.
The world blurs past us, buildings becoming streaks of color and light. The wind whips through my hair, untethering the last of my reservations. I lean into Texas, our bodies moving as one with the rhythm of the road, every beat driving us further from what was and closer to what could be.
