Part One

The memory was still fresh in her mind. They were seated at the kitchen table, two darkened cups of tea steaming before them. The snow hadn't yet melted; it had been a hard winter that had crept its way through to early spring, and frost still clung to the kitchen window. Shawna's mother had wrapped her hands around her cup to warm them, and had fixed Shawna with her placid gaze.

Where do you see yourself in five years? She'd asked. Shawna had returned the smile and let her ideas linger, like she was running her fingertips slowly through silk. Graduating top of her department meant that she'd land a fantastic marketing job at almost any company she wanted, and her relationship with Ben had been going strong for almost five years now. The answer had been simple.

Ben and I just got married, and I'm working a good paying job I love, and so is he. We have a house we're paying off in a good neighborhood, and maybe we've got a dog. We travel when we want to, and we see the world. We have fun and have friends, and maybe we take a language class together to help with our traveling. Do you think I'm dreaming too little? That's all I really want, but I'm afraid it's not ambitious enough.

Her mother had shaken her head, the knowing smile still on her face.

I think you've got it just right, sweetheart. Ambition is good, but sometimes the best lives are the simplest ones. Just listen to your heart and it won't steer you wrong.

And yet here she was, five years later and no better off for it. The dreams that had seemed so simple in her college days had proved much more complicated to achieve in real life. Ben hadn't proposed, although they'd been talking about getting married for the last three years seriously enough that she knew it would only be a matter of time. They hadn't left the United States, not even to visit Canada, and the traveling they did in-country was mostly for business. When Ben got back to their tiny apartment around six, he locked himself in the spare room he used as an office to network and spread his name. Shawna had been snatched up by a company that paid her a fair salary, and that she enjoyed working for, but she was making nowhere near what she'd thought she would. One night she'd asked Ben about finally applying for a mortgage and moving into a house, but he'd been quick to dismiss her.

We need more money set aside to make a sizable down payment. The more we pay up front will save us thousands of dollars in the long run, and when we're old and grey you'll appreciate that we waited. We're still young; we can still make an apartment work.

But an apartment wasn't working for Shawna. Not anymore. Ben was still in her life, and one day they would get married, but the rest of her vision of the future had crumbled to dust. All she could do was run to escape it, and most nights after work, that was exactly what she found herself doing. When Ben clocked in those three extra hours in his home office, Shawna found shelter from her disappointments at the gym near their apartment.

Every evening she ran on the same treadmill for at least an hour, the miles disappearing behind her. Shawna had always been slender and willowy, but had never enjoyed running before it had become an escape. Now she found herself craving the release that only a run could give her, and longed for the rush of endorphins that accompanied a hard run. Sometimes she ran to music from her MP3 player, but sometimes she ran in silence, listening to the conversations of others around her. The times when she listened, sometimes she felt better about her own situation. There had been stories of fortunes lost, of friendships destroyed, and of promises broken. In comparison to the tales she heard every now and then, Shawna considered herself lucky. Crushed dreams weren't all that big a deal when they were padding their bank account to afford the things they wanted later in life, after all. In those times she felt grateful.

But tonight, sweat beading her brow and throat dry, the story Shawna heard did not leave her with a sense of peace — but not even the gentle scraping of the track against the treadmill or the pounding of her sneakers could distract her enough to lose sense of what was being said.

"I rode down to Vegas last week," the man said. His face was new around here, but he was talking with the regular Shawna had labeled as Mr. Muscles as though they were old buddies. "I stayed for three days, but I got bored. Not enough money left to gamble and make my way home, and definitely not enough money to afford any high quality snatch. Girls there, they're crazy. You can't find a girl for free if you try — not even the tourists. I mean, the city of sin, and yet no one's looking to indulge a little? What horseshit. So I left. Took off to Cali and drove along the coast, did some work under the table at a shop to pay my passage back home, then got the hell out and came back here. Girls in Cali, you don't have to buy them, but they're air headed and they all want commitment. So I think I'm going to take off again in a few months and head to Canada or something. I hear the girls there get really cold and lonely during the fall, and they'll do just about anything. Worth checking out, right?"

Mr. Muscles had laughed hard and clapped the newcomer on the back. Although the regular was ready for a run, his new friend hadn't changed into anything gym appropriate just yet, as though he'd just come in to talk. Shawna couldn't help but stare. No one came into the workout room wearing a thick leather jacket and combat boots; the newbie stuck out amongst all the other fitness junkies she was so used to looking at.

"So you came back from Cali and came right from the gym to share your stories, is that it? Sometimes I don't believe you, Clark. Don't you have to get things settled with your new apartment?"

The man in leather, Clark, ran his thumb over his lips and grinned a wolfish grin. Shawna caught the glint of something mischievously playful in his eyes, and found she couldn't look away. It did look like he'd come in from a long travel — his stubble was turning into whiskers, unkempt and unruly, there was a sun kissed gleam to his skin that suggested long hours on the road, and the leather he wore was much more evocative of the road than it was a gym. A pair of dark jeans, dipped at the knee and dirty with grease around the inner calves, hinted that it hadn't been a car he'd taken down to California.

"I got it all handled. One of my old buds from school owns a shitty little low rent complex and he's got me a space for cheap. There's no mold and no mushrooms growing in the bathtub, so it's good enough for me. Still got a position at the shop waitin' for me, so I'm not stressed about money. I've got enough to make ends meet, and that's all I really need."

The treadmill beeped as her pace began to slow, indicating that she was dropping below her desired pace. At long last Shawna tore her eyes away from the stranger to look at the electronic display before her. It had been a long time since she'd run this slowly, and there was no excuse. There were plenty of attractive men at the gym, and she'd never let them distract her before. After all, at the end of the day she was going home to Ben, so there was no need to look. Yet the stranger — Clark — had caught her eye, and there was something about him that felt so contrary to every inch of her. Shawna romanticized the lives of other gym patrons, but never had she explored a history that felt so foreign. Clark lived a life she'd never dreamed of, and delving into his depths was a thrill.

Eyes back on the reader, her pace increased and leveled back to normal. To try to distract herself further, Shawna increased the incline. It was natural to be attracted to other men, and as long as she didn't act on her desires, there was nothing wrong with it. But something about Clark thrilled her and made her feel weak, and she knew that if she let herself indulge too much, it might not end well.

But Shawna had no choice in the matter. When she looked up from her readings, the man in leather had his arms crossed upon one of the stabilizing bars of her treadmill, and he was grinning at her with the same wolfish grin he'd offered his friend when speaking about his living arrangements.

Shawna's heart rate meter went crazy, and her hands flew back from the sensor bars to further protestation. For a moment she was sure that the moving track was going to shoot her back and off the treadmill, but a quick slap of her palm against the power button saw the machine slow to a stop. Clark hitched a brow at her and bit back a laugh.

"Hey, blondie," he cooed. "You weren't even being subtle about staring, so I thought I'd make my way over. What's a good girl like you doing looking at someone as haggard looking as me? I'm not used to cardio bunnies batting their eyelashes at me."

The encounter was terrifying. Shawna certainly hadn't been batting her eyelashes at him, and apart from giving him a look over that was perhaps a little too thorough, she hadn't been paying him all that much attention. Had she?

Up close he smelled of hours spent outside beneath the sun and the leather jacket he wore. The long stubble along his jaw and chin and over his lips was in need of a shave, but she'd been able to tell that even from across the room. But what she hadn't seen were the sparkling blues of his eyes. Like the clear summer sky in Italy, they possessed color she never believe possible in nature. Pools of crystalline water in the untouched north. Rows of cornflowers spread across a field. The hues all played within his gaze, and for the moment it was all hers.

"I-I wasn't," she stuttered. "Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. It's not like that. I'm—"

"Stunning?" Clark cut in for her. "A stickler for fitness? A tease?"

Mr. Muscles had disappeared, leaving her on her own to fend off Clark's advances. Typically a man who was so brash in his flirtations set off her creep detectors, but there was something about Clark that was genuine. Maybe it was his sense of adventure and lust for life, or maybe it was the sparkle of sincerity in his eyes, but there was nothing creepy about what he said.

"I'm taken," she completed. "So I'm sorry if you got those vibes from me. I've got a man waiting at home."

"Well, a man waiting at home isn't a man at the gym." Clark offered her a little shrug, the leather lifting with his shoulder to reveal the fitted white shirt he wore beneath. "This is a tough neighborhood, and I'm thinking I don't feel comfortable letting someone cute as you walk your way home alone at night. Don't know what kind of a man would let you walk through this neck of the woods, but that man isn't me."

What was happening? Had she not had a tighter control on herself, Shawna was sure her mouth would have fallen agape. What kind of man talked like that these days? It was like someone had drawn Clark straight out of the fifties, then saw him styled like a modern bad boy. Shawna wasn't sure how to shoot him down.

"I've been doing it for a good year now," she mumbled. There was still another forty minutes she'd intended to spend at the gym, and she wasn't going to cut her time out short because a stranger wanted to be a white knight. Or was he a black knight? Shawna couldn't tell if his intentions were pure, or if they were sinful. "So far I haven't had a problem."

"Just 'cause you've never had a problem doesn't mean you never will. That's like saying you've never had a heart attack even though you eat cheeseburgers three times a day, so you never will. I'd rather go to sleep tonight knowing a beautiful woman got home to her man safe than knowing I might've let her wander into harm."

It had been a good while since she'd stopped running, but still her heart pounded in her chest. A small, wicked voice inside of Shawna whispered that she should let him take her home just so she could enjoy his company that much longer. Her relationship with Ben had long since fallen into the humdrum that was complacency, and he complimented her rarely. There was no doubt that they'd built a life together and depended upon each other, but the spark had disappeared. Each compliment Clark shot her way struck her hard and stuck, and Shawna realized how much she missed being fawned over.

Maybe tonight she could indulge a little.

"I'm not supposed to be home for another hour, at least," she said. Clark picked himself up from the treadmill, his eyes fixed on her. There was a sly look to face, and she wondered if she was reading too much into it. Back in college Shawna had hung out with guys just as friends, and nothing had ever happened. She could trust herself.

"Then why don't you let me take you out for a little? Running at the gym is fun, but nothing beats seeing the sights."

Shawna snatched up her gym towel from over the bar and mopped it across her forehead. For years she hadn't been able indulge in the excitement of life like she'd wanted. Stuck at home, unable to travel as she'd wished, life had become stale. If Clark was a friend of Mr. Muscles, then he couldn't be bad news. Taking off with a stranger wasn't something she'd typically do, but now it seemed the only way she could get her fill of escape.

"You know," she murmured, "I think maybe it would do me some good. I don't get out a lot. Why don't you let me shower quickly and change, and then we'll talk some more."

Clark hitched a brow one last time and took a few steps back.

"You got it. I'll be waiting in the lobby for you to be done. Don't keep me waiting."

Without waiting for a reply, Clark turned his back on her and exited the equipment room. The way he walked left her feeling like if she ditched him, he'd shrug it off and continue on his way. Even though he was the one who'd requested her company, whether she acquiesced to join him or not was no skin off of his back. Clark went with the flow, and didn't let life get him down — and it was exactly the kind of attitude Shawna needed in her life.

Down the stairs in the locker room, Shawna showered quickly. Hair rinsed free of sweat and body lathered and perfumed, she changed back into her work clothes and hefted her gym bag over her shoulder. To save money, she'd sold her little compact car and had been commuting to work every day. Ben had run the figures, and paying for gas and car repairs and insurance rang up much higher than buying a monthly bus and train pass. Grocery shopping had gone from a leisurely pleasure to an annoyance — navigating public transit with overflowing bags was never fun. Very few things felt fun anymore.

The clack of her kitten heels saw her up the stairs and into the lobby of the gym. Clark, in all his leather, was sprawled across one of the couches there. As she approached he lifted his head and let his eyes trace down her body. Her business outfit was nothing fancy or particularly revealing, but in that instant Shawna felt worth looking at. A tight taupe pencil skirt hugged her modest hips, met by a blazer of the same color. A white blouse was tucked into the high waist of the skirt and accented by a necklace with thick black cylindrical beads and wide silver circles. At her wrist was a watch whose strap was decorated with similar black beads to those on her necklace. Shawna liked the outfit because it masked her small breasts and brought attention instead to the pleasing curve of her hips and ass and the shape of her legs. From where Clark's eyes lingered, she knew it was doing its job.

"Never would have recognized you if I wasn't waitin' for you. I didn't realize that a little gym bunny like you had an important office job. Well, now I'm really wondering what you might want to be doing with a guy like me."

Each of his feet planted themselves firmly on the floor, and he stood. The pleather couch crinkled as he parted from it, and Shawna's eyes moved between it and his body. Gorgeous. Maybe he came on a little strong, but she wasn't sure why he'd had such a hard time finding a girl. Who didn't want some excitement in their lives? It was all she'd ever craved.

"I don't want anything," Shawna assured him, still feeling somewhat timid. "You're the one who insists he'll follow me around and take me out. I just happen to be a girl who can't say no."

"You should learn," Clark said with a laugh. "That kind of attitude is going to get you exactly into the kind of trouble I like."

A blush crept through her cheeks as Shawna caught his meaning. She definitely hadn't meant it like that, but Clark was bringing out a side of her she'd suppressed out of necessity. Maybe some of that college flirtatiousness was emerging as well.

"I didn't mean it like that," she mumbled. "You know what I mean... I-I was serious about that boyfriend, you know. He's waiting for me back home, and I really don't mean anything..."

"Yeah, yeah," Clark said. "I'm used to it. Now come on. Let's go out and enjoy the night a little bit. The temperature's nice compared to what I've gotten used to."

Together they left the gym, Shawna's gym back weighing against her shoulders. Clark had dug his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, and from them he dug a set of keys. They crossed the parking lot and stopped at the far end. Clark approached the passenger side of a sedan, and Shawna hesitated. Was he going to open the door for her? But instead of fit the key into the lock of the sedan, he kicked a leg up and straddled the motorcycle parked beside it. The key fit into the ignition, and Clark turned the engine and brought it to life.

"Let's ride," he told her. The thick back tire turned slowly as he reversed, retracting so that they were side by side. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now."

What would Ben say if he knew about this? Shawna's eyes swept from Clark to the bike, inspecting it. It seemed sturdy enough. Glossy black casing was meticulously cared for and hand detailed, although speckled with dirt and other signs of wear. The seat was worn in and generous, with enough space to accommodate a passenger. But was it right?

Well, if Ben wasn't interested in doing anything exciting, maybe it was best if Shawna got her fix elsewhere to get it out of her system. Doing this didn't weaken their relationship any. If anything, it would help make it stronger. If she came to resent Ben for never wanting to go out, eventually their relationship would sour — if it hadn't started to already.

"No. No, I'm not. I just don't know how I'm going to ride with a skirt like this."

The skirt came down to her knees and clung tight. Clark looked it over, ran his tongue across his cheek thoughtfully, then shrugged.

"Only one feasible solution I can think of." And without asking permission, his thick fingers found their way against the hem of her skirt and rolled it up until it barely covered her at all. Shawna felt her cheeks grow red as he exposed her creamy thighs and the nude stockings that covered them. Like this it was almost as though she wore short shorts, and she hadn't done that since she'd been a freshman.

"Are you serious?" Shawna muttered to herself. Clark heard, and replied.

"Unless you want me to rip it down the side. Didn't think you'd like that solution too much, though."

"No," Shawna insisted. "You're not ripping my skirt. We're going like this. I'll just deal with it."

Casting a lingering glance at Clark to see if he was peeping, she swung her leg over the bike and settled in against his back. Both of her arms wrapped around his waist to hold herself steady, and he laughed, sensing how unfamiliar she was with riding.

"Hold on tight, blondie. Don't want you to fall off."

"My name's Shawna!" Shawna insisted, but Clark didn't seem to listen. The bike shot backward, and seconds later they'd sped from the parking lot of the gym, Shawna's gym bag rippling against the wind.

The roar of the engine and the drag of the tire so close to her legs was thrilling in a way Shawna had never believed. Her wet hair whipped against the wind, and the sticky leather across Clark's back clung to her chest and shirt. Shawna buried her head between his clothed shoulder blades to protect herself from the harsh cut of the night air, but she could not deny that feeling it against her arms and through the fabric of her slacks was a rush. As frightened as she was at the new experience, there was also wild joy. As Clark sped even faster, weaving his way between cars recklessly, Shawna cried out in delight. Motorists leaned on their horns as they darted in and out, but Shawna found she didn't care. As much danger as she was in, Clark's erratic driving made her feel alive.

"Where are we going?" Shawna shouted out against the shrill shriek of the wind and the traffic around them. Clark had said that he would take her out, but that they'd discuss it later. Neither of them had a chance to discuss anything — wherever he had in mind was his idea alone.

"S'a surprise," he shouted back. Without the ability to properly converse, Shawna had to leave it like that. Tonight Clark was going to take her out somewhere new, and she'd explore the city as she never had before. The stars had just risen, the moon was already bright, and the night was theirs to seize. They turned sharp corners that made the bike dip dangerously to the side, and Shawna's arms tightened around his waist to hold on for dear life. Clark's shrill laugh rang out against the night, and they rode on.

They sped down the inner city streets until they'd distanced themselves from the seediest commercial area to enter the low income, high volume residential area that Ben and Shawna had called home since they'd graduated from college. They could afford better, but every penny pinched meant a house that much sooner and that much cheaper. Had Clark found out her address from the front desk of the gym? Shawna had no other idea why he'd ever take her into her dreary neighborhood.

Now that they'd escape the buzz of main road traffic, Clark slowed. Although they still sped, they did not take the side streets with the same breakneck rapidity they had before. Shawna was both relieved and disappointed; as the danger died down, so did her excitement. Now that Shawna had a taste of it, she was hungry for more.

As Clark directed the bike down the street Shawna's apartment was on, he slowed, and for a moment Shawna thought they really would stop outside the doors. Instead, they turned down the corner before her block and dove deeper into the residential area. Finally they came to a stop outside a derelict apartment building. The upper units were darkened, and Shawna could make out broken window panes and boarded up windows. Some of the siding was crumbling, and amateur graffiti was scrawled across the non front facing walls. The lobby was lit up, and Shawna could see activity inside, although thick graffiti across the wide glass panes made it hard to see what it was.

Was this a drug den? From time to time Shawna heard that buildings in this area got busted for cooking or selling drugs. Taking a wild ride with a stranger was its own kind of rush, but she wasn't willing to get involved with activity that was so illegal it could put her behind bars.

"Is this a drug den?" Shawna whispered, concern obvious in her voice. Clark had killed the engine, and he turned his head to look at her. The laugh that burst from his chest was deep and unrestrained, and as striking as it was, it made Shawna feel a little self-conscious about her remark.

"You're a suburbs girl, aren't you? Take you away from the safety of a two story house and a white picket fence and you're seeing crack whores and rapists on every corner."

"Hey! No, it's—"

"Well, it's not a drug house," Clark said, turned at the waist to look back at her. "Now get off the bike so I can get off, too. It's hard to disembark when there's a girl clutching your waist who just won't let go."

It wasn't until Clark brought her attention to the fact that Shawna realized it. Even though they'd slowed and stopped, she hadn't stopped clutching him. The grip had loosened since they shot down the main avenues, but it had not fallen away as it should have. All at once Shawna yanked her arms back and awkwardly hopped from the bike, stumbling and probably flashing Clark a little more skin than she would have liked from how her skirt was hitched so high. As soon as she got her footing, Shawna yanked her folded skirt back to normal, the fabric riding high at the waist and ending at the knee.

"That's better," Clark said. He hopped down after her, tucking the key to his bike back in his pocket. "How was that for a first ride? Do you have the thirst for it, yet?"

The thirst. The cool thrill of the wind in her hair, and the feel of a strong body against her shielding her from the brunt of it. Trusting another with her life, and giving in to the thrill of the unknown. Shawna knew that it was what Clark had spoken about, but she refused to acknowledge it out loud. At least, not to the degree that she'd truly enjoyed it. After so long of having to lead a boring life bound to work and little else, a change was exciting.

"I'm glad that we didn't hit the pavement when you took some of those turns," she said truthfully. "And I guess it was a fun experience. I don't think I'd ever have another chance to get on a motorcycle, so I... I appreciate it. It was a good learning experience."

Clark snorted and hitched an eyebrow in a move she was now beginning to recognize as typical of him.

"You can deny it if you want, but I see that glint in your eye. You're like a kid on Christmas, peeping between the banisters to see the presents piled beneath the tree. But I'm not going to pull it out of you if you don't want to share it with me. It's no skin off my back." He shrugged and gestured towards the apartment's front door. "Now come on. I want to show you this."

His boots clapped heavily against the pavement of the sidewalk as he made tracks for the front door. Shawna watched, and then followed. As she approached the building, the graffiti across it became clear. Although the stuff tagged on the side was the act of delinquents, the paint across the window had been put there on purpose. The swooping letters and vibrant backgrounds, near invisible against the night, spelled out the name of a storefront that Shawna could only imagine was a restaurant. When Clark pulled open the front door and a bell chimed in time to it, Shawna knew she'd guessed right. The people that milled behind the glass were wait staff, and the lobby was stuffed with booths and tables at which patrons sat. One or two seats remained empty, but the place was otherwise overrun. She'd lived in the apartment literally down the street with Ben for years, and never had she known of a place like this.

"Welcome to The Rat's Nest," the hostess chirped. She had a tiny desk set up near the door. "Do you need menus tonight?"

"Nah," Clark replied. "I know what we're getting already."

Shawna couldn't believe how brash and presumptuous he was being, but even as she took mild offense, something stirred inside of her. It was exciting that Clark was taking control and forcing her to discover things she'd never even knew existed. When was the last time Ben had gone out of his way to do something romantic? Really, when she thought about it, the only time she'd thought about Ben that whole night was to drag him into a comparison against Clark.

It left her feeling guilty, but also incensed. All these years she'd been clear with Ben about what she needed from their relationship, and time and time again he favored networking and penny pinching to indulging her. Shawna was a reasonable girl with a good head on her shoulders, but she knew that he'd dropped the ball and dropped it hard. And now Clark was picking up where he'd left off.

The hostess led them to a comfortable booth with benches upholstered with red vinyl, and Clark saw her Shawna sit before he did.

"Do you take strange women to hole-in-the-wall restaurants on the regular?" Shawna asked once they'd settled. Clark spread his arms across the back of the booth, getting comfortable. There was a casual ease to him that spoke of a simple, but fulfilling life, as though he didn't have a care in the world.

"Only the prettiest ones," Clark replied. Shawna felt the heat spread across her cheeks, and she knew she'd turned red.

The waitress stopped by their table, and Clark gestured her over with a curl of his index finger and whispered something in her ear. The waitress grinned at him, glanced over at Shawna, and grinned wider.

"I'll be back in a second," she said, then disappeared into the back.

The more time that passed, the more Shawna felt that this wasn't just an excursion. Sitting here with Clark felt a lot more like a date than she was comfortable with. If she'd been single, maybe it wouldn't have been so scandalous, but with Ben waiting at home...

"Maybe I should get going," Shawna said. The thought of going and missing out on the excitement that Clark offered stung, but she was a good girl, and doing this to Ben was wrong.

"Stay just a little longer," Clark insisted. "You haven't even seen what I have in the works yet. Clark Upton doesn't disappoint."

Clark Upton. The name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Shawna shook the feeling and glanced at Clark from across the table.

"I heard that you just got back in town from out of state," she said. It would be no surprise to him that she'd been eavesdropping on his conversation. "So what are you doing visiting the gym and taking girls out instead of getting settled back in? I'd imagine you have to get your new apartment in order. Aren't you worried?"

There was a short silence. Clark's eyes narrowed like he was trying to figure her out, his head cocking just slightly to the side. The more he stared, the more self-conscious Shawna had become. All through her college days she'd been sure of herself and in control, and in her life as an alumni, she'd never hesitated to make a choice or succumbed to the pressures of life. And yet now Clark was disarming her like she was a little girl. How could he press all of her buttons like this?

"I don't worry about anything," he said. "Why should you worry? Whatever happens in life is going to happen, and there isn't much you can do to stop it. If you let go and roll with the punches, you're going to be a lot happier than if you spend your whole life with your head in the sand, scared of what the outside world's about to deal you. Truth is, your might feel like nothing can get to you like that, but your ass is poking out and ready for a spanking. I'd rather see the hits coming than bog my head down with worry. Do you follow?"

Did she ever. As he spoke, Shawna shifted uncomfortably in her chair and let it all sink in. She'd wanted to travel, to take risks, so see the world, and right now all she had was financial security and a dull life. Tonight was the first time in a long time she'd dug her head out of the sand, and it was only because Clark had yanked her from her stupor. For so long she'd been dreaming of others' lives with longing, but now Clark had begun to show her how to live the life she dreamed of.

"Yes," Shawna murmured. "I do."

"So that's how I get along. I've got a roof over my head, enough money in my wallet that I won't starve, and a trade I can make money off of whenever I need it. That's all I need."

He was so different from Ben. Shawna found her elbows on the table, chin in her hands as she listened. Clark had charisma. She recognized it well enough from her days in marketing.

"What is it you do, that you can get away and not have to worry?"

"I work at a garage. I can make any old junker purr again, cars or bikes, given the right parts. It means I can work anywhere, any time. There are always going to be cars that need to be fixed, and I'll be there to fix them. Everyone says you need to waste thousands to get a college degree to be successful, but I've been doing just fine on my own, no education necessary."

The blues of his eyes caught her, and he smiled.

"But I'm guessing that you're one of the college advocators, based on how you're dressed. Probably a good girl who's got a 401K and a pension plan. Nice house in the suburbs. I don't think you look like a mom, but maybe soon. But tonight, life led me to you. Doesn't matter how different we are; I'm going to enjoy your company as much as I hope you enjoy mine."

"I—" but before she could continue, the waitress arrived again with a tall, decorative glass typically used for milk shakes. Clark had ordered a float, the liquid in the glass a striking electric blue color. Generous scoops of vanilla ice cream sealed the top, and were buried beneath a spiral mountain of whipped cream. Gold flakes were shaken liberally on top, and given a second look, Shawna could see them glinting inside the blue drink. "Oh my."

"Enjoy," the waitress chirped. Clark slid her a folded bill, and she took off. Two straws, wrapped in plain white paper, sat beside the huge glass.

"For you," Clark announced. "My friend told me you were at the gym almost every day, and I thought it a shame a little skinny thing like you was all work, no play. Tonight you're taking a night off with me and living life to the fullest."

Clark gave her no choice in the selection, had neglected to tell her where they were going, and had her ride behind him without a helmet. This was what it was like letting go. Shawna bit down on her bottom lip and shifted back and forth on the bench.

"Well," Shawna picked up one of the straws and unwrapped it. The length of the straw plunged through the ice cream and into the blue liquid beneath, "this is a lot crazier than anything I've done since... Well, since my early days in college, probably. And that was a while ago. But I'm enjoying myself, and I'm enjoying you."

A genuine smile perked the corners of Clark's lips. Making him smile felt good, and Shawna felt herself ruffle with pride. She hid her joy by drawing upon the float. The blue liquid was sweet and fruity, and not quite like anything she'd had to drink before.

"I'm glad to hear that," Clark remarked. He left the second straw where it was, watching her as she drank.

"You know," Shawna said as she drew away from the float, "I've actually lived really close to this place for years, and I never knew it was here. It's crazy to think how much exists outside your door that you never know about."

"Because your head's been in the sand," Clark concluded for her. "If you take it out and take a look around, you'll discover wonders near and far."

"Yeah," Shawna said with a smile. Something warm curled in her chest at the thought. Clark had lifted her up out of the pit she'd fallen into, and now she was seeing the world like it was fresh. Being handsome just made the package all that much more irresistible. But even if she'd been single, Clark wasn't looking for a relationship. A man like that didn't want to be bogged down.

The rest of the night passed by in seconds. Clark told her of his travels, not only through the United States, but down into Mexico. Ten years prior, barely an adult, he'd backpacked through Europe and Asia. It didn't seem like there wasn’t a sight he had not seen. But time and time again, he returned to their city. What was keeping him there? He had no idea. But out of all the breathtaking places he'd been, and all the wonders he'd seen, there was nothing like returning to familiar city streets. His name had been familiar because she'd sold her car to him years ago, and he'd fixed it up and sold it for a profit. What a small world. Shawna drained most of the blue liquid while Clark hailed the waitress and have her bring over some spoons. He helped her eat what ice cream was left. By the end of it all, Shawna felt light headed and warm, more than his fantastic stories and interesting life views should have left her feeling.

"Was there... Was there alcohol in that?" she asked. Clark only grinned.

"The mysteries of life," he said with a laugh. "Come on now; let me drive you home. I'm sure your man is waiting."

Ben. The more they'd chatted about nothing and yet everything, the less Shawna had thought of the man she'd loved for almost nine years. Guilt curled in her gut and left her feeling uncomfortable, and for the first time since she'd started talking to Clark, she frowned. Ben was comfort and stability and what she knew, and as thrilling as Clark was, he wasn't the one who'd supported her all these years.

Supported? Maybe that wasn't quite right. Ben had been at her side, but he had been too busy supporting his own career advancement to really be there for her when she'd needed it. Shawna didn't dare linger on the thought; it was poisonous.

"It's not far," she said, slowly rising to her feet.

"That's fine. I don't live far, either. I'll drop you off and then head home. It's been a fine night, and I owe it to you to bring you back safe and sound."

Ever the crude gentleman. Clark stood and took her by the arm gently, leading her from the building. The hostess waved them goodbye, and they were out on the streets once more.

It had definitely been alcohol. On her feet she felt light and sparkling, cares gone. Yet Clark was there to keep her safe. They strode down the walkway and back to the street, and Clark hopped up on the bike and twisted around to help her up as well.

"A motorcycle," Shawna mumbled, rolling up her skirt without any hesitation. She could see how Clark's eyes followed the lines of her legs as she revealed them, but even had she not had a little buzz going, she wouldn't have cared. After what he'd done for her tonight, letting him look felt right. "I never thought I'd ride on a motorcycle. I think my mother would never forgive me."

Once her skirt was rolled up, Clark took hold of Shawna's waist and helped her over the bike. Once she'd settled against his back, her arms hooked firmly around his waist, he turned the engine and brought the bike to life.

"Mom doesn't have to know," Clark said. He kicked it into gear, and they took down the street much more leisurely than before. Shawna was easily able to give him directions, and when they pulled to a stop beside her building, Clark cawed a laugh.

"You're kidding," he said. Shawna hopped down from the bike much more sure than the first time, smoothed her skirt, and shook her head.

"No, this is where I live."

"Go figure," he muttered to himself, but did not elaborate. Clark killed the engine and disembarked, only to take Shawna's arm once more to lead her towards the front doors. The thick leather of his sleeve stuck against the polyester blend of her blazer. The bad boy she'd never thought she'd have the guts to talk to, let alone go out with, was taking her to her apartment door like they were freshmen in college. When they stood upon the landing, Shawna lingered. Clark had released her arm, but still she was hesitant to go.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," she brought herself to say. "It's something I'd never do otherwise."

"Yeah, same here." Clark was looking at her with his blue eyes. Beneath the shadows of the night they were hard to make out, but she remembered how beautiful they were. Beneath the dull overhead light of the stoop, she thought she could see glimmers of them, and Shawna found herself leaning forward slowly. The closer she got to Clark, the more heated she felt. In that moment there were no dreams of a big house with a white fence and good paying jobs. Instead, she dreamed of nights beneath the stars and the heat rising off the pavement beneath their feet. Travel. An unpredictable life. Clark was the guy she'd been looking for all along.

As their faces grew closer together, Clark's head tilted just slightly, eyes grinning at her.

"What about that man?" he whispered, the warmth of his words ghosting across her lips. It was only then that Shawna realized how close they'd really come. Her eyes were partially lidded, arousal stirring deep inside. "The man that you're going home to?"

Ben. Shawna drew back, shaking her head. Clark was right. She couldn't...

"Let's go in for the night, Shawna," Clark whispered. He opened the door for her and saw her inside, but when he followed, she knew something abnormal was happening.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"A twist of fate," Clark told her, voice low and poetic, "has seen me spend the evening with a girl that lives in the same apartment complex that I do. This is my home now, too."

No. Shawna's face paled a little bit. Clark had been a stranger but hours ago, and he was supposed to go back to being a stranger now. What she felt for him was temporary, and he was supposed to have faded from her mind to eventually be forgotten. If they lived in the same building and crossed paths often, that would never happen. She had to forget him — she had almost kissed him. If she didn't forget, then...

"Funny," she mumbled, wanting to flee. But no matter how fast she went up the winding stairs, it seemed he was right there behind her. When they turned down the hall on the same floor, Shawna's mouth went dry. Clark passed her and stopped at the door just across from hers, fitting a key in the lock and opening the door; he hadn't been lying.

"Well. I guess I'll see you later, neighbor," he said with a simple shrug and a devious smirk. Shawna felt sick with guilt. This was the place she shared with Ben, her own dreary reality, and yet her fantasy lived right next door. How was she supposed to sleep knowing that temptation lived so close?

"Goodnight," Shawna said sharply. She dug her key out of her gym bag and pushed her way inside hastily. Ben was sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in the space she would have sat. The television was on.

"You were out late," he remarked, eyes sweeping down her critically. "And were you talking to someone out in the hall?"

"No," Shawna said quickly. Ben frowned, not buying it, and pried a little bit further with some more questions.

"I texted you a few times to ask where you were, but you never replied. In fact, I texted you five minutes ago. You always have your phone on you on your way home for safety. We've talked about that."

She hadn't even taken off her shoes yet, and already he was accusing her. Over the course of their long relationship, Shawna had never given him anything to worry about. She hadn't flirted with other guys, or acted suspiciously, and most of the time she didn't even go out without him. What gave him the right to go off on her like this? Hadn't she earned his trust by now?

"I got home safe, and that's what matters, isn't it? What's with this attitude?"

Ben rose from where he had been seated. He wasn't unattractive — his short brown hair and sharp nose were business like and intelligent looking — but she couldn't remember the last time he'd made an effort to look good for her. When work was done he stripped out of his suit and shrugged into the same old white t-shirt and blue plaid pajama pants he always wore, and when they went out he swapped the pjs for jeans. Now that he was comfortable with her, he didn't go out of his way to look presentable. How long would it be until his trim body started to gain mass until he boasted a beer gut? How long would it be before she'd walk in to find him sitting on the couch with a white tank top stretched over his stomach, the bowl of popcorn resting on it rather than on the seat next to him? The thought disgusted her, but Shawna tried to swallow it away. Ben saw the discomfort and capitalized on it.

"You're not a good liar, Shawna. Tell me the truth. Were you out with someone else?"

The volume of his voice was rising steadily, and Shawna was taken aback. Ben had never been confrontational before now — at least, not that she'd noticed. Maybe now that her world was crumbling before her eyes, she was seeing a side to him she'd previously cast a blind eye to.

"I went to the gym, and someone who lives in the building drove me home afterward because he was concerned for my safety. That's all. Why are you getting so snappy with me?"

All she wanted to do was take a good shower and crawl into bed, but Ben wasn't going to let her. The way his shoulders tensed and broadened, and how his posture straightened to lend him more height told her that he was gearing for a fight. Shawna wasn't going to have it.

"I wouldn't have to get snappy with you if you didn't lie to me. I thought I could trust you after all this time, but I guess I was wrong. What have you been doing all this time when you say you've been going to the gym? Have you been seeing someone behind my back?"

Shawna set her lips and gave him a hard look.

"I don't believe how after all these years, you're treating me like I'm a criminal. I thought I knew you better than that, Ben. I'm done with his conversation unless you're going to treat me with the respect I deserve."

"Respect? I should respect you after you admitted to lying to me? And about another man, no less?"

No. Shawna wasn't going to take it. With a shake of her head, she steeled her soul and separated herself from her anger and her hurt. Ben was showing a side of himself she found unacceptable, and compounded with their unfulfilled lifestyle and relationship, Shawna wasn't willing to try to work him through it. She'd been careful to communicate her needs with him, and he had never listened. If he wanted to save this relationship, he was going to have to step up.

"Ben," Shawna locked the door behind her and took off her heels. The relief was instant, and helped her keep her cool, "I am going to shower, and then I'm going to go to bed. If you cool off and come to your senses, you can join me. If not, I'm not interested in sharing my bed with you until we can have a calm, logical conversation about this mess."

"Your mess."

It was enough. Shawna bit into her bottom lip to stop from lashing out, cut past him, and locked herself in the bathroom.

That fight was the first of many that night. Ben's head was still in the sand, and hers had been pulled free — it was foolish to think there would ever be peace, now that Shawna knew what life had to offer her.