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He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Be ready at eight in the morning,” he said, turning toward the door once again.
“What? Why?”
“I’m taking you to breakfast. Think of it as a late birthday present.”
And then he was gone, leaving before I could even deny his request to be ready. I closed the door behind him, annoyed and too tired to argue.
When I turned around, Zada was staring up at me with her mouth hanging open. I was sure she was going to say something about my going to breakfast with Aiken, but she shocked me.
“Today was your birthday? What the hell, Everly! We should have partied.”
As if we didn’t party every weekend.
My birthday was no reason to celebrate—especially since the person I shared my birthday with wasn’t in my life. I considered using Zada’s phone to call Erik and wish him a happy birthday, but I knew it was pointless. If anything, calling him would only make my day worse.
Zada’s dad left for the weekend, so instead of sleeping in the sleeping bag on the floor in her room, I used the blanket I had given Aiken and slept on the couch. It was the first good night’s sleep I had in a long while.
I woke at seven, clenching my eyes tightly against the sun spilling in through the sheer curtains in the living room. After ten minutes of trying to go back to sleep, I decided to give up and get the day started.
I started the coffee maker and took a quick shower while it was brewing. By the time I got dressed and ready for the day, the coffee was ready. I was pouring myself a large cup full when a knock sounded at the front door. The microwave clocked blinked eight o’clock at me, and I sighed, knowing who was at the door.
“Are you ready?” Aiken said when I pulled the door open.
“You’re not seriously trying to take me to breakfast?”
He leaned against the doorframe with crossed arms. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
“Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”
As soon as I said that, my stomach rumbled. His eyes drifted down my body, landing on my stomach.
“You’re starving. Grab your jacket, and let’s go.”
He turned away and started toward his bike without listening to an argument. It was as if what he said was the final word. It was aggravating, but when my stomach grumbled once again, I knew I couldn’t pass up a birthday breakfast—even if it was with Aiken Cross, who just so happened to be the one man in the world who frustrated me beyond belief.
He slid his palm down my leg while I was adjusting on the back of his bike. I was sure he was only touching me to help me, but I still liked it. He looked back, giving me a side-eye as I pushed the helmet onto my head. Then he did the same before he cranked the engine to the bike.
The seat vibrated beneath me, and I slid closer to him, latching my arms around his waist. He revved the engine a bit before he pulled away from Zada’s house. A smile spread across my lips once we left the neighborhood. He let loose on the engine, speeding down the main highway in a rush of adrenaline I was beginning to love.
I could hardly believe how easily I got on the back of a bike these days. I could remember a time with the idea of a motorcycle scared me. Maybe I was getting better. Or perhaps it was Aiken and how I trusted him with my life. It didn’t make sense to me. He was dangerous. Most days, he was rude, and yet, I trusted him more than anyone else in my life.
I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting the wind slide over me until I felt the freedom of flying. There was no anxiety or panic-laced breaths. There was only us and the wind, and at that moment, everything else went away, and I felt alive again.
We pulled into The Waffle House, and he parked close to the door. The place wasn’t packed like it was the first time I had been there. He got off the bike, and pulled his helmet off, resting it on the seat. I pulled on mine, and he reached up to help me remove it from my head.
My hair was down since I had a hard time putting the helmet on when I had it in a topknot, so it was wild and sticking up when the helmet came off. He shocked me when he reached up and smoothed my curls down as if touching my hair was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.
Meanwhile, chills rushed down the back of my neck and settled in my tailbone. I shivered, and the side of his mouth lifted as if he knew what I was feeling. His hands moved down once he was satisfied with my hair, and he settled them around my waist before he lifted me from the bike like I weighed nothing.
“Thank you,” I muttered, adjusting my top and getting my footing.
He nodded and then turned away to go inside.
We were welcomed by the sounds of cooking and the smells of bacon and deliciousness. My stomach growled, and my mouth watered. I was glad I had gone along. I needed to eat something other than Ramen before my stomach revolted.
He slid into a booth, and I sat across from him.
