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What does one wear on a date?
I’ve never been on one, but as I stand wrapped in nothing but a towel and stare at the small pile of jeans and T-shirts in my suitcase, I realize that none of this is probably appropriate.
I check my watch, wondering if I have enough time to run out and grab something a little more chic. It’s almost six p.m. and I know that he’ll be here soon. Maybe I could text him and tell him that I had to run an errand and I’ll meet him at wherever it is that we’re going.
I’m about to grab my phone when there’s a knock on my motel room door.
“Shit.”
I look down at what I’m wearing and then back to my options. It looks like I don’t have much of a choice.
I grab the top T-shirt and pair of jeans and yell over my shoulder as I head into the bathroom.
“Just a second!”
“Open up, baby girl,” Wild says right away as I roll my eyes and hop on one foot to pull my jeans on.
“Give me a second!”
I’m adjusting my bra and tugging my shirt over my head as I rush for the door. I have a feeling that he might just knock it down if I don’t open it soon.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he says, his eyes roving over me. I’m happy to see that he’s not super dressed up either.
“I just need to grab my shoes,” I say, sitting on the bed and slipping them on.
I tie them and then shove my phone, ID, and some cash into my pocket before I usher him out of the old motel room. I lock the door behind us, the flimsy door creaking as I pull it all the way shut.
“You can’t,” he starts and I turn to glare at him over my shoulder.
He grabs the back of his neck, rubbing as he looks away and then back to me.
“I mean, youshouldfind a new place to live. Somewhere safer.”
“I’m working on it.”
It looks like he wants to say something else but he bites back the words and leads me over to a red and black motorcycle parked next to my car.
“This is yours?” I ask when he throws his leg over the seat and tries to pass me a helmet.
“Yep, this is mine. Come here. I’ll help you with the helmet.”
“Um, maybe we should just take my car instead.”
“No, come on.”
He hooks a finger into my belt loop and tugs me closer to him and his death trap. Before I know it, he has the helmet on and is tightening the strap under my chin.
“I’m not sure about this. I think I should ––WHOA!” I yell as he grabs me and lifts me onto the bike behind him.
“Hang on!” He yells over the roar of the engine as I quickly wrap my entire body around him.
I could swear that I hear him laughing, but it’s hard to tell and I’m too afraid to try to lean over and look.
He rolls us back out of the parking spot before he takes off. I let out a yelp and squeeze my eyes shut, my arms tightening around his waist as we fly down the road.
I miss most of the ride because I’m too afraid to open my eyes and see how fast the trees are whizzing past us, but we finally pull off of the road and slow to a stop.
