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“Fine. I’ll try not to shit-talk your father’s side of the family.”
“But my mom’s side is fine?”
“No, I assume they’re cool since you clearly took after them.”
I stare into his baby blues and explain, “I’m choosing to forgive your rudeness. I’m not getting finessed or tricked. This is a choice I’m making.”
“And a very good choice it is.”
Despite his kiss and my decision to forgive, I don’t feel like eating. I’m not flirty anymore. I’m back in Fork Falls, living in a trailer and getting sneered at by the kids whose houses don’t blow over in a tornado. I’m the girl with the third-hand clothes and a dad who did parent-teacher conferences through a window because he refused to stop smoking for the fifteen-minute meeting. I’m one embarrassing moment from being called “Carrie White” by some local.
All my hopes for starting over in Tumbling Rock feel delusional, like when I thought I could pull off blonde hair or blue eyeshadow.
“The ice cream’s melting,” West mumbles when I don’t help him eat the brownie. When I shrug, he adds, “But you’re choosing to forgive my rudeness.”
“True, but we both know you’ll say something else soon. My stomach hurts now.”
West unleashes his pouty face again. He looks around for someone to fix my mood issues. When no one can save him, he exhales hard and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Don’t be sad,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m sorry your family rubs me the wrong way. But my view of them did nothing to taint my interest in you for five years.”
I imagine a guy like West—with his thick muscles, narcotic smile, and mesmerizing eyes—remembering me after so long. Isn’t that a fun surprise in my new life?
Despite my stomach hurting, I take the bite he offers. I’ve eaten too much food and gotten too comfortable with West. Men are devious creatures to be tormented by even more devious ones. Except I’ve lost my savvy bitch mojo since he talked shit about the Toomeys. Clearly, I’ve moved to a town where I’ll never be just “Alexis Fontaine.” I’ll always be another one of those pale weirdos.
Just like West is one of those important bikers. This town has power structures, and I’ve fallen on the losing side.
However, if I consider my options here, maybe I can ride this handsome biker into a better social score. West is gloriously gorgeous in a town where many people aren’t. I notice women stealing glances at him just to get a dose of his beauty. He’s also riding around on his loud motorcycle, flashing his power and superiority in everyone’s faces. It couldn’t hurt to enjoy West until his coolness rubs off on me.
That’s on my mind when I climb on the back of his shiny black motorcycle. Well, that and not falling off and getting permanently maimed.
As the bike idles and I hold on tight, West strokes my hands resting against his waist. He’s so into me. I’m planning to use his interest to improve my opportunities. By the time he gets bored and moves on, I’ll be a happy success in my new Tumbling Rock life. No way will I allow cruel reality to bitch-slap my dreams.
Since I genuinely can’t remember my address, I text Zelda. She sends the info back, and West frowns.
“That’s where my cousin Rie used to live.”
“Did she have kids into the Powerpuff Girls?”
“Yeah,” he says over his shoulder. “Her daughters.”
“There are stickers on the fridge with those little characters.”
West smiles back and warns me to hold on. Though I’m nervous about falling off, I’m more worried about lingering on a hot day without my hat for shade. West stuck it along with the food in his bike’s storage. Now, I’m exposed to the sun’s rage.
Of course, the ride is short. I didn’t walk too far from home, but I still got turned around and would have needed help finding my way back.
West pulls his motorcycle into the duplex’s driveway. A goofy dude named Tripp lives on the bottom level. His grandma owns the house. Tripp seems harmless, so Zelda is absolutely certain he’s a serial killer.
The happy blond sits in a lawn chair in the driveway. He waves at us as I climb off the motorcycle and worry about possible chafing between my sweaty thighs and the leather seat. Fanning my flesh, I wait for West to retrieve my hat.
“Hey, West.”
“Hey, Tripp-Randy. Do you just sit out here all day?”
“The air-conditioning doesn’t work inside.”
West frowns at me as I retrieve my hat and food from his bike’s storage. “Does yours work?”
