Page 6 of Oops! I Fell for the Biker Next Door

If I think her reaction to the gloves is dramatic, nothing comes close to when I shrug off my cut.

"No way." She immediately shakes her head. "It's freezing, Riot."

Ha. Compared to how easily hot I become because this woman's using my road name like it's second nature, the autumn air doesn't stand a chance.

"I'm big and strong now." Peeling the leather away, I feel her eyes run over my arms and then my front. She can easily see I'm built for any threat, even something as simple as cold air. "Come here."

Despite her reluctance, she lets me throw it over her shoulders. And now, I get it. My brothers back home all have their old ladies who constantly wear their cuts. I understand this need to see a pretty woman they can call their own with their name on them.

Zoey doesn't look bad in Steelwood colors.

She sniffs the jacket and grimaces. "By the way, since when did you start smoking?"

"It's rare enough that it's not a habit. I happen to hang around people who do it more than I do," I explain as I get back on the bike. "Now you're going to have to keep a good grip on me so I can stay warm."

She pouts her lips, and it's a miracle I don't start reaching out for her, eager to get her close to me once more.

She's so fucking cute even when she doesn't realize it.

"You know, you could take me somewhere that sells jackets. I could buy a new one." Muttering such a ridiculous idea, she settles behind me and wraps her warmth around my body once more. Without realizing she's doing it, she spreads her palms out and rubs my chest unconsciously, making me bite back a groan.

"I'll survive. Let's go find something to eat," I rasp, trying to get rid of this thing clogging up my throat. "I'm fucking starving."

Her murmured assent feels too good. I use the bite of the wind to combat the internal fire she’s lit, my pulse drumming so loud I barely hear the engine. If I don't get a grip on this combustion, the very air in front of me will be steam before we reach the diner to snag lunch.

Chapter four

Zoey

The weather has been more on my side this week than in the last month. Something must be up. As ridiculous as the thought is, I want to foolishly believe the biker next door brought the sun with him on his ride back home.

I'm outside giving my plants a few minutes of direct sunlight while the sun shines, when I happen to glance over toward the side where trouble resides.

His bike has been gone for a few hours now. Something must be keeping him busy, given how often I've seen him coming and going.

Yesterday, after a hearty lunch, he'd asked me to help him move some of Mary Lou's belongings into a moving truck. He planned to rent a storage unit because she didn't want to sell anything, just in case the facility turned out to be as terrible as she expected.

As far as he's told me, she's only been grumbling and complaining lightly. Enough to give him hope that she'll love it after a couple of weeks.

Maybe he's gone to visit her. Next time I see him, I'll have to tell him to bring me along.

The thought alone makes heat rise at the base of my throat. Here I am wanting to spend time with him ever so openly. I thought I'd have to pretend to want to share the same space with him, but that's gone out the window after a few days.

It's crazy how easily we've slid back into old habits. He's growing cheekier by the day, becoming as present in my life as he once was. Even when he doesn't have to, he makes it pretty obvious he's making time to put himself back into my life.

We've barely talked about the past or brought up old memories. He doesn't even talk about himself enough to give me an idea of what kind of man he's become. Instead, he makes it blatantly obvious that he's more interested in enjoying the present with the person I've become over the years.

It's a shame I've become such a boring woman. A recluse who's made herself comfortable with the company of her neighbors and the occasional wildlife that lurks in the early mornings. As of late, my plants are now my biggest company, and all they do is listen to me.

Trying to focus on bringing out the four other pots, I feel like my attempt to get Riot out of my head is a losing battle more than ever. Once they're soaking up the rays, I attempt to do the same by sitting next to them with my eyes closed.

The heat feels good when it comes. During the summer, I spend plenty of time bathing in it. Nowadays, I'm lucky if I can soak up more than an hour or two a day. The closer winter comes, I doubt I'll be able to leave my cabin at all.

With no one to see, I don't bother hiding my grimace at the thought of another winter spent alone. As much as I've made it seem like I love the place, there's only so much seclusion I can take. Mary Lou made it survivable with her constantly inviting me over for meals and gossip. Now without her, I may actually die of loneliness.

My plants won't save me from that life if they wilt away not long after the first snowfall. They'll die right alongside me.

Letting out a sigh and trying not to think about the future, I enjoy the mountain's silence. It's one of the few perks of living here. Unfortunately, it doesn't last for very long.