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Wes stared off to the side for long enough that the conversation died down. Killian took a call, glancing up every few minutes. Laura had her things packed and was just patting Max’s side while we waited. Finally, Wes looked up and made eye contact with me, then slid his gaze to my friend.
“You’re following us back.”
Laura squeezed my hand, and I nearly choked on my spit.
He better not mean what I think he means. I slowly got to my feet and strangled the handrail as I glared back at him. He must have known what I was about to say, because he cut me off.
“I can’t trust that you won’t drive off. So you’re riding with me.”
Shaking my head, I started to protest, but Wes glared, clenching his jaw.
“It’s not up for debate, River. Get your ass down here, now.”
That name.
I could hardly breathe as I reeled from the way that name rolled over me and struck at my heart. Laura rubbed my shoulder encouragingly, which helped me focus on moving. I gripped the handle on my suitcase and began descending the stairs. I didn’t want to ride on the back of Wesley’s bike. I couldn’t fathom being that close to him again, and a part of me wondered why he asked me and not Laura. It didn’t matter, I didn’t want to be mixed up with Death Raiders, and considering they’d been at the motel we wanted to stay at, and now were at Sasha’s, I was willing to go with my ex wherever he decided because I knew at least it would be Death Raider free.
I had traded cell phone numbers with Sasha, much to Wesley’s frustration and multiple protests, but she had been kind to me, and regardless of whatever sort of weird Raider situation she had going on, I liked her. She hugged me tight, as I always imagined my own mother would, and sent us on our way.
Once we were outside, I tossed my things in the back hatch of my car and clutched my best friend in a tight hug.
“I’ll make sure you don’t get lost, just follow close.”
She nodded and took the keys from me, while I helped Max into the backseat.
Wesley waited near his bike, standing like a god clad in leather and denim. He watched me walk over, hesitant and unsure. I had on my heeled boots, but I was wearing shorts, and after burning my calf on my dad’s exhaust pipe as a kid, I swore I’d never do it again.
Wes caught my eye, holding my gaze as I trailed my fingers over the leather seat positioned behind where he’d be sitting.
“You remember how to ride bitch, right?” His tone came out mocking as he handed me a bucket helmet.
I was practically born on the back of a bike, and he knew it. I rolled my eyes and snatched the helmet from him, buckling it under my chin without his help. What I hadn’t ever done was ride withhim. He’d never owned a bike while we dated, and even up till the end, after he’d become a member, he wasn’t riding. Or if he was, I wasn’t aware of it. Seeing him straddling the bike now was an odd sensation. My stomach tilted in excitement, but nerves threatened to burrow deep enough to make me sick.
Inhaling a sharp breath, I placed my boot on the buddy peg and then my hand tentatively on his shoulder while swinging my leg over the bike, until I was resting my ass on the leather. It was warm under my legs as I adjusted. His large, calloused hand skimmed down each of my calves as if to ensure they were set properly on the pegs. I resisted the urge to lean into his back. In fact, I was sitting as far away from him as I possibly could. I could hold onto the sissy bars attached to the small chair at my back and be perfectly fine to stay on the bike. I didn’t need to touch him to be safe.
The engine roared to life as Wes tugged under my knees, moving me until my thighs were cradling his hips. His silent way of telling me I would be holding on to him, and not the bars at my back.
I yelled in his ear a reminder and a way to distract from what he’d just done. “Don’t lose Laura. She’s not from here, and she’ll have no idea where to go.”
He gave me a slight nod as his wrists rotated on the throttle and clutch, and right as we were about to pull forward, I slipped my arms around him, linking my fingers together over his stomach. It felt so strange to be touching him again, much less riding with him. I couldn’t deny it felt good, like it fit him in a way that nothing else ever had.
We sped down the road, as the wind whipped my hair behind me.
I decided to ignore the tiny thrill in my chest as we made our way, and I aptly ignored the butterflies that had taken flight as excitement unfurled like a waking flower in my chest. I’d never admit how badly I missed riding, nor would I admit that being this close to Wes while the wind whipped against us felt akin to flying.
* * *
Wes led us down the highway, until he turned off on a familiar road. It was the back way to his old place, which confused me. I assumed he didn’t live at his old house, merely because of how much he detested the house after he’d moved out, but maybe I was wrong.
We passed the switchback that would lead to my old house, and he continued down the dirt path until we were skirting an overgrown field that was once his front yard. Weeds as tall as a kindergartner bordered his old house. The three-story home was empty and weathered. It was as if not a soul on earth remembered it was here. Wes slowed his bike, skirting the house, going around back where his tree house sat, and the property line that once divided our lands.
My eyes flicked upward to the fort, just to be sure it hadn’t been torn down. The pine boards still held, as if time had forgotten them altogether. I refocused in front of me, curious where we were headed if Wes wasn’t taking us to his house to stay.
Grass and sand shifted under our tires as we continued toward the thin road that separated our properties. There was never anything here that blocked either of us from moving from place to place. It was how I ran so easily to his treehouse when I was only nine years old. Now, however, there was a shiny metal fence that divided our two lands. Wes slowed as he approached a small patch of fence that began to slide open as he pressed a button on the small key fob on his key ring.
This entire setup was so advanced compared to anything my dad ever had while growing up. We had enemies, but Dad chose to protect the property closer to the house. Ten acres was too much to monitor…at least that was what I had overheard him say when the subject had come up. I was loosely hanging onto Wes now that our speed had decreased enough. I sat up tall, watching as we finally cleared the fence, and small hill, until my dad’s old cabin came into view.
So many emotions rushed me as we ventured toward it. I had initially assumed Wes wanted us to stay with him, and now I realized we would be alone in the cabin. I wasn’t sure which one I was more reluctant to accept. I missed the cabin, and would have loved a chance to see it, but staying in it?Never again.
