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He carried an undercurrent of danger that almost felt delicious and I suppose I was never meant to feel intrigued. The pull had to be in his pensive blue eyes and the way his cherry colored lips always curved into a smirk. It was like he held answers to questions I hadn’t quite asked yet. Was it possible to feel so strongly toward someone at such a young age? I’m sure he’d have an answer for me, yet I don’t act on anything. I thought, it’s too soon and maybe I was blinded by the proximity or the adjustment period.
“Yeah…why?” The words breathlessly left my lips as the tension climbed. Looking back at this, I should have sensed the harbingers of doom hidden between his words. In the moment I was snared by his presence.
“Alone?” He ran a hand over his face, showcasing the bags under his eyes. Kane was always tired.
Contrastingly Ash was ruggedly attractive, bright-eyed and playful. Since arriving in town we had seen each other almost every day.
“Not really…no,” I replied.
I thought about Ash. We were always around others—bonfires, late nights on the shore, eating at the diner with new friends, silly drives around town. Our encounters lacked intimacy.
“You shouldn’t. He’s bad news.” Kane turned toward his work on the table and slammed his book shut. “Besides, are you really interested in going to parties every weekend?”
I cocked my arm against my hip, ready to debate him on misconceptions of character, when he said, “I have someplace better to show you. You like books, right?”
“Yeah, I do. Why?”
My book obsession was equivalent to Kane’s, having packed many boxes of classics and weird fiction I found on vacations, many of which I couldn’t understand yet, but hoped to in the future. I loved books. Particularly the scary ones—stories that made me feel anything other than the loneliness I felt inside.
“Come on, I have something to show you.” He brushed past me and headed toward the foyer.
“What is it?” I jogged up to him, meeting his stride.
“You’ll see.” He gave me a sidelong glance and pushed open the double doors of the front entrance, gesturing for me to walk outside first.
“It’s really hard to read you. I can’t tell if you’re walking me to my death or some secret mystery of the universe.” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a hard stare.
He laughed, a wide smile that showcased these sharp canines that added to his unconventional looks.
I struggled to be myself around him. Without speaking a word, he had me question every bit of personality that I’d built this far. Was I chaotic because I felt deep loneliness? Or was I burying an exuberant girl underneath it all because I hadn’t learned how to pull myself out of the darkness? I found that the noise in my brain quieted when I was near him, like a magnetic pull, only it dispelled any tension I was feeling.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Come on. I think you’ll like where we’re going. It will give you a break from all the mess you’ve made in my house.”
My house, he said.
I kept any remarks to myself and followed him along the stoned herringbone path leading to the garages at the far end of the house.
Outside, the sporadic oak trees surrounding the house swayed and groaned in the warm midday breeze. Despite the sun, a chill remained, and I resigned myself to the town’s coastal climate.
I peered around the area, taking in its beauty, the scent of salt and wildflowers, and occasional serenades of the evergreen’s wrens. What did Kane really think of my family and I moving into their house? My father had money, but I didn’t know we had that much purchasing power. So, I harbored the suspicion that Kane truly didn’t like my presence, but he tolerated me.
He opened the garage doors with the press of a button and ducked inside before they could fully open. I’d never ventured this far around the property, not wanting to tread on their space.While I logically knew that this entire estate was Wren family property, it was principle alone that prevented me from snooping.
Something roared to life before I could lay eyes on it. A sleek black helmet is placed into my hands alongside a small leather jacket.
“It used to belong to my mother; you’re going to feel a little cold on the ride there.”
“Oh.” I glanced down at the jean shorts and black tank top I was wearing. My eyes traveled to his, then down to the vintage motorcycle he straddled, biceps flexing as he gripped the handlebars. A warmth had spread across my chest.
“Where are we going?” I asked again, sliding my arms into the leather jacket and slipping the helmet on. I then swung my legs over the seat and straddled the space behind him.
“Hold on,” he said before we’re gliding up the driveway and into the dense tree covered roadway that lined the curves of the mountain. My arms wrapped around his waist, cheek pressed against the t-shirt that clung to the cords of muscle in his back, breathing in the scent of him—mint and warm cinder. I leaned into the moment, allowing everything to melt away. I felt content, safe, and soon I drifted into sleep.
“Wake up Sara, we’re here,” his voice was gentle, carrying none of its usual heaviness.
I startled, embarrassed because I’d just fallen asleep on the boy I was crushing on. It was his scent, the calm breeze in my hair, and the scenery. I trusted him with my life, on a motorcycle no less. I blinked, catching a smirk on his face before he turned back to whatever maneuvering he was doing with the bike.
