Page 47 of Sterling Fight

“How?” There are apps to follow your friends, and as a single woman, my friends and I often share our location with one another. Safety first, especially when one accepts random dates.

“I’ll be there.” Judd hangs up without further explanation and my breath hitches.

I’ve heard those words before, and they weren’t spoken by Judd. The innocuous phrase could be said by anyone at any time and yet a haunting memory mingles with Judd’s promise.

Quickly, I shake my head, not needing that memory while I wait on the side of an empty road.

Instead, I consider how I haven’t been on a date in a long time other than Ralson, which I don’t count. While I’m still in a mingle-phase, dating is getting tiresome. The getting-to-know you process. The finding out we don’t fit disappointment. I’ve been duped enough that I’m good at deciphering compatibility with another person within five minutes of meeting him.

Which is another reason Judd is so confusing.

We seem to fit.

Within minutes, I hear the telltale roar of a motorcycle engine and then one is breaching the subtle hill in the road.

Judd slows as he nears me. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, he wears a helmet on his head. He rolls up alongside me and stops. The engine revs. The heat of the machine warms my bare legs. Judd frees the helmet he had attached to the back and holds it out.

With shaky hands, I set the protection on my head and fumble with the chin strap I can’t see. Judd reaches out and clicks the latch into place. Setting my hands on his shoulders, I hitch myself onto the back of his bike but hesitate.

I’m the one who ran. I’m the one who killed the kiss.

Judd answers my reservations by cupping the back of my knees and tugging on both of them at the same time. Without further hesitation, I wrap my arms around Judd’s waist.

He takes off faster than I expected, and I tighten my hold, so I don’t fall backward. We race in the opposite direction from which he arrived, and I realize after a few minutes, we’re going for a drive.

Eventually, Judd pulls off the road into a small parking lot that marks a scenic viewing point. The mountains are breathtaking from this vantage with the blue sky overhead, and the green-brown of early spring in rolling peaks and valleys. With equal parts of fear Judd will leave me here in the middle of nowhere and afraid to let him go, I remain on the bike.

I don’t have a good reason for not kissing him earlier.

After a minute, Judd shifts, cuts the engine and removes his helmet. I do the same and slide off his Harley with shaky legs. Judd slings his leg over the bike in one smooth move and faces me.

“If anything had happened to you—” He swallows thickly, his eyes roaming down my body as if looking for signs of injury. Still, anger wavers around him like the haze on a hot day over blacktop. He slams his fists into his pockets and stares at me long enough I look away, uneasy from his glare.

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” Judd’s voice is low and harsh. A shiver-inducing rumble that’s more intimidating than if he’d yelled at me.

I lick my lips, preparing to apologize, when he speaks again.

“Just what the fuck were you thinking?” he continues, stepping closer to me. His jaw is tight. His shoulders stiff. He swipes a hand through his thick hair before those fiery eyes shudder closed. He takes a deep breath and when he opens his eyes again, fear fills them.

And suddenly, I understand. I know what he’s feeling. That drop-in-your-gut sensation when you expect someone to be there, and they aren’t. When you expect them to show up and they don’t.

This has nothing to do with our prom night, and I feel terrible for making Judd worry.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” he begins, blowing out a breath. “And frankly, it scares the hell out of me.”

I agree with his sentiment.

“But I’m standing here, wanting you.” He points to his boot-covered feet. “And if that’s not something you want, I respect that. Nothing needs to happen between us. Nothing.”

He exhales again. “Just, please, don’t run away.”

“I wasn’t. I just . . .” got lost in my head and then got lost on the road. For some reason, I can’t tell him that, though. Self-doubt and past experiences have taken over.

His voice quiets. “Don’t let me think you’ve simply disappeared.” As his voice grows quieter, I realize what I’ve done.

The panic. The fear. The anger. Judd was truly scared I was gone forever, and I know the feeling.