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He hands me my helmet.I can’t believe he still has it.
“We’re leaving,” he says.“Someone will pick up your car tomorrow morning.”
“San ...”I trail off, my voice losing strength.I should tell him that I have to go, figure this out on my own.
But I don’t have the strength to leave him.Maybe, just maybe, all I need is him for the night.To fuck me senseless so I can allow myself to forget that I couldn’t save her.So, I can forget everything—the pain, the chaos, even myself.
I want to fuck him, to cause some pain while I drive myself inside him so he’ll experience a little of what it is to be me on a daily basis.
“Grey, you need me.”There’s no arrogance in his voice, just the knowledge that he’s the only one who can make this better before I lose myself.
“Are you taking me to a hotel like a cheap date?”I quip, slipping on the helmet.
He shakes his head.“No, I’m taking you home.We’re going through this book.It might give you the peace you deny yourself.”
Doubtful, I leap onto the bike behind him, surrendering to him.He doesn’t hold the key to granting me the solace my soul desperately seeks, but we’ll pretend and for one night, I’ll forget.
ChapterEight
Greyson
Sanford’s motorcycleroars to life beneath me, the vibrations seeping through my jeans, connecting me to the machine, the man, and the fragmented memories we share.I’m still surprised he still owns my helmet.Does he still have the motorcycle he gave me for my birthday too?
He knows this guy who designs custom-tailored bikes that match the unique personality of each person who orders them.Like this one, which is imposing, enigmatic, and sleek, just like Sanford himself—a mirror reflecting his inscrutable allure.
Mine should be dumped off a cliff because that’s exactly what I am, a bunch of rusty pieces that barely work and should be dumped in an alley—forgotten forever.
But San doesn’t believe it.He still thinks I’m worth fucking from time to time, and I allow it.I instinctively wrap my arms around his waist, a reflex shaped by the countless moments when being this close to him was as easy and necessary as breathing.Now, every point of contact sends a shiver through within me, a cruel reminder of our reality—of all that we’ve lost, all that can never be, andher.
Sanford weaves our way through the highways of Malibu, the wind brushing against us.On one side, the restless ocean throws itself against the shore, while on the other, the cliffs stand tall.As we ride, memories rush in, unwelcome but persistent—his laughter, our promises.
Our first kiss.
I hold on tighter to him, resting my head on his back and closing my eyes.Suddenly, the past morphs into the present.We’re there again, us.It was one of those rare occasions where the three of us were in the same state.We were stilljustfriends, but very close.
We were so close that sometimes I felt like I was a part of them—I loved them.It was a love that had no name.I just knew I wanted to surrender my heart to either one of them or maybe both.
It made sense to me, given the love my parents shared.They are a triad, a testament to how a person can have a heart big enough that they could love more than one person.
But I never dared to act on my feelings.For all I knew, Sanford saw me as just a family friend and our ballerina ...?Well, she was too focused on her career.She lived to make her mother’s dreams come true.
In any case, it was that day at the academy that changed everything.Our entire world shifted on its axis in that single moment.She was preparing for her upcoming audition and wanted to dance to live music.We volunteered, driven by an unwavering desire to be there for her ever since the day we first met her.
Sanford sat a few feet away with a cello in his hands while my fingers teased life out of the piano.It was pure magic.My fingers glided, each note merging seamlessly with the resonant chords of Sanford’s cello.
The music between us was almost enchanting, vibrating with untold promises and a love no one dared to mention out loud.My eyes were closed, but I could feel every note I played fusing with San’s and being injected into our ballerina’s perfect form.Every second that passed, my soul melded with theirs, a seamless fusion of us that transcended the physical realm.
We became notes in our own melody, flowing in harmony, our unique parts creating a beautiful piece vibrating in the air.The serenade held us spellbound, our souls whispering to each other in a language only we understood.
At that moment, it wasn’t just him or her—it was the three of us.
I yearned to kiss them both, to dive into the unknown.But I couldn’t just do it.The fear of destroying the friendship that meant so much to me weighed more than my desires.
Once we finished, we were almost frozen, speechless, staring at each other.
“That was the most exquisite music I have ever experienced,” she confessed with a gentle voice that shattered the silence between us in the most beautiful way.“It made me feel more alive than ever.”
“I can make you feel a lot more if you want to,” Sanford flirted.His teasing remark caught her off guard, and a twinge of jealousy stirred within me.
