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She waves me off. “Go, we’ll be fine.”
“Thanks,” I mumble while waving goodbye to Josiah. He gives me a chin lift, making me chuckle. On my way to the bike, I Google addresses for Allison and only two pop up. It’s time to take a ride by them and see exactly what kind of life she’s living. I need to know what she’s accustomed to-to know if I have the smallest snowball’s chance in hell of her being interested in me. She may be married now, but she won’t be for long if I have anything to say about it.
Climbing on my motorcycle, I secure the helmet on my head, loving the bit of anonymity it affords me paired with my shades and crank the ignition. The bike’s engine rumbles to life, the vibrations making my body instantly relax. Being a biker isn’t just a hobby, it’s a way of life and true bikers find comfort in the ride and road.
My heart is pounding in my chest, anticipation clawing at me and making my stomach twirl with excitement as I give it some gas and head in the direction of the first address listed for Allison. Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be outside, otherwise all I can do is drive by the house.
I slow down, riding by the first place. It’s in an older neighborhood and there’s a senior couple sitting on the front porch. The man waves as I cruise by, and I figure maybe it’s where she grew up. Could they be her parents? Possibly. I wonder if they’d be waving if they knew what I did with their daughter in the museum? Doubt it.
The second place is more what I was expecting. She’s fucking loaded. Or more likely it’s her husband, considering his position at the company and nothing came up about her having a job. They’ve got a huge house right next to the water, beautifully landscaped but with her possibly going to college for horticulture and botany, I’d expect nothing less. There’s even a fancy bright white Range Rover parked in the circular driveway that I’d bet money on being hers. She didn’t seem like the uppity type, but the big expensive leather bag and diamonds glinting in her ears told me she was used to having some money.
What would she think about my more practical lifestyle? I’m not embarrassed by the way I live. I have a home. It’s a small three-bedroom, but it’s in a decent old neighborhood and has a garage. I do the upkeep on it, so the trim gets a fresh coat of paint each year and the yards mowed. I have my bike, which is my pride and joy, aside from Josiah. I also have my pick-up truck. It’s not anything extra special, but it’s clean and reliable. We’ve got food in the fridge, clothes in our closest, and a little money sitting in the bank, so I’m pretty proud of myself. Not too bad for a single dad who didn’t come from much. I grew up with a single mom who worked two jobs to keep us alive and a non-existent father. He split when I was five, but he was more problems than anything when he was around.
I pass by the achingly beautiful home, slowly taking every detail in I can without toppling myself over in the process. The whole neighborhood is spread out and screams of wealth. The view is something spectacular too. I bet this is where the real money was dumped as it’s prime real estate, right on the water with a beautiful view and shoreline to walk along. Speaking of, there’s a lone figure out on the shore. The breeze whips her loose cardigan around her as she walks. Her feet are bare and must be freezing, but it’s almost as if she’s in a trance, not feeling anything at all.
She glances my way, probably at the sound of my motorcycle and I nearly wreck. It’s her. Allison. Alone and looking more lost than she did at the museum. Pulling off to the side, I park my bike and hop off. Leaving my helmet behind, I make my way down the rocky side to her.
Her eyes widen as she realizes it’s me, and she takes me in from head to toe. I scare a lot of people, but for some reason I don’t seem to have the same effect on her. She’s more curious about me than anything, if I had to guess. Her mouth pops open for a beat before she hisses, “What are you doing here? You can’t be here!”
Shrugging off her scolding, I smirk. “I wanted to see you again.”
“And you just show up? What happened to texting a person? Even email would work! Then I could’ve saved you the trip.”
“You’re kinda feisty. I like it.”
She grabs my hand and tugs me closer to the same hill I came down, all the while glancing back at her house. “Come on.”
“Why are you hiding me?”
“Because you’re you and I’m married, remember?”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to be.” I murmur and her mouth gapes once more. I’ve shocked her with my truth, and I can’t help but feel a touch of pride for doing it. “I want to see you. We have a connection. You know it and so do I.”
“People have connections all the time, but it doesn’t mean they act on it.”
“This is me, acting on it.” I grab her wrist lightly and tug her to my body. I expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t. Her palms land on my chest, her cheeks and chest flushing as I gaze down at her. She’s so goddamn breathtaking; how her stupid husband can’t see it is mind-boggling, and it only makes me want to punch him more. “Hey, beautiful,” I whisper and watch her teeth sink into her lower lip. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” And I do.
It feels like coming home when my mouth meets hers. I’ve never had a connection like this with another woman before. Instantaneous. Life altering. My hands cup her sweet face, tenderly holding her because she’s fucking precious, and I want her to feel it in my touch.
She pulls back, severing the kiss. Panting, she breaks my heart when she shakes her head and says, “This is wrong. We can’t do this.”
Instead of arguing which I want to do, badly, I say, “Ride with me.”
“E-excuse me?”
“Come for a ride with me. I want you on the back of my bike.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because Tanzanite is here, I can’t leave her.”
“Is your husband home?”
“Yes, or I wouldn’t be out here alone.”
“Then you can come with me. No one’s here to stop you.”
