Chapter 18
Max
Beck greets me with a smile when I walk through the door of Clay’s dance studio.
“Hey, what brings you by tonight?” Beck asks, cocking his head to one side. I suppose it is rare for me to stop by On Pointe, but not unheard of by any means.
“I was just sitting at home missing my—Clay.” I feel my cheeks heating at my slip up.
I glance over and catch sight of Clay through the door to one of the dance studios. He’s in front of a class demonstrating a dance move. I can’t take my eyes off him, the peace and joy on his face is so beautiful. His body is fluid as he spins with a flourish. My heart stutters as I find myself leaning against the doorway, unable to turn away.
“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Beck says from behind me.
My cheeks burn hotter. “I...uh...it’s not…”
“No need to blush, stud. Clay has already told me all the details, and you don’t have anything to be shy about.” Beck winks at me.
“Everything?”
“He’s lying,” Clay calls from inside the studio, and Beck laughs.
“Fine, he hasn’t told me everything,” Beck concedes. He casts a quick look toward Clay who’s back to explaining something to his students. Beck moves closer to me and drops his voice. “I’ve never seen him as happy as he’s been the past few weeks. Don’t hurt him. I know it’s early on and sometimes things don’t work out, but please be kind to him if things end.”
“I’d never hurt him. I would’ve thought you’d know that by now.”
Beck nods once with satisfaction, and I get back to creeping on Clay while he finishes his class.
Clay
I force myself to keep my attention on my class. But I can’t help sneaking a few glances at Max as he stands in the doorway, watching me with a small smile on his lips. My stomach flutters, and I smile back.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Amelia—the youngest student in my advanced class—asks, peeking over her shoulder at Max.
“Uh...yeah,” I admit, feeling a blush creeping up my neck.
“He’s really hot.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” I agree with a laugh.
Twenty minutes later, my class wraps up, and I finally make my way over to Max, so I can find out what brought him by. Not that I’m complaining.
“Hey, petal,” Max greets when I reach him. The endearment is quiet enough I’m sure only I can hear. I almost offer my lips for a quick kiss before I realize we’re in public, and Max isn’t ready for any kind of PDA. It’s understandable. After all, he’s still coming to terms with this whole new side of himself and we’ve only been together a few weeks.
“What are you doing here?” I ask curiously. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was thinking I’d take you out once you’re finished for the day? It’s kind of lame, but I packed a picnic, and I wanted to take you on a ride somewhere.”
My mouth falls open. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Sorry, is it totally lame? I’m still getting used to the idea of dating another dude. I know girls eat romantic shit like that up, but maybe I need to plan something more masculine or something for us?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, love. I like romantic shit. And dating a guy isn’t so different,” I point out.
“No, I guess it’s not,” Max agrees. Something passes behind his eyes, and he sways toward me like he might kiss me in public after all. But then he straightens up and looks around. “How many more classes do you have today?”
“That was my last one, so I’m good to go.”
Max jerks his head toward the door, and I follow him.
“You taking off?” Beck asks.
“Yup. You don’t mind locking up after your last class, do you?”
“Of course not, go have fun.” Beck waves me off, and I’m more than happy to comply.
Outside, Max offers me a helmet and leather jacket he has slung over the back of his bike, and I take them. My hands shake a little as I prepare to get on the back of the motorcycle for a second time. The first time wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. But each time there’s a whole new opportunity to become roadkill. Max has been itching to get me back on his bike, but he’s been careful not to push.
“Relax, Petal. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You won’t. What about all the other crazy drivers on the road?”
“You worry too much,” Max accuses.
“Yeah, hi, I’m Clay, and I stress about shit, nice to meet you,” I deadpan.
“I don’t mind, that just means I get to help you de-stress later.” Max waggles his eyebrows, and I chuckle.
“You’re too charming for your own good.” I shake my head and then climb onto the bike behind Max with all the grace of a drunk hippo.
Once I’m on and clutching Max around the middle for dear life, the motorcycle roars to life beneath us, and I bury my face in his back, so I don’t have to witness the horror of going sixty miles per hour without two tons of metal to protect me.
Max
The feel of Clay clinging to me from behind—his hot breath tickling my back as he hides his face there—makes the ride even more enjoyable than it would normally be. I love the feeling of flying down the open road with the wind on my skin and my bike thundering between my legs. But with Clay plastered against me, the whole experience takes on a whole new level of enjoyment.
“Open your eyes and enjoy the view, petal,” I encourage as we get into the mountains.
I feel Clay slowly turn his head, so he’s still pressed against me, but I’m assuming he can now look around a little.
“Where are we going?” he calls over the sound of the wind.
“An overlook. It’s not much farther.”
A few minutes later, I pull into a gravel parking area.
Clay lets go and flexes his fingers.
“A little numb from holding on so tight?” I ask.
“Shut up; that was your plan the whole time. You like that I’m terrified of your motorcycle, so you can get me to hang all over you,” Clay complains.
I swing my leg over and then turn to look at him. I tilt his chin up and run my thumb along his bottom lip.
“You and I both know I don’t need to scare you to get you close. And I would never stress you out on purpose. I hope you’ll like riding with me eventually. I’d love to do a road trip on the bike sometime together.”
Clay’s eyes light a little. “Where would we go?”
“Wherever you want.” I shrug. “We could head down the coast and hit some beaches. Or, we could ride up to Canada and go camping.”
“That sounds fun.”
“You’ll have to get use to her then.” I wink and run my hand along the body of my bike. I grab the trail bag off the back of my bike and take Clay’s hand.
We find a spot with flat ground and a good view, and then I set down the bag and pull out a small blanket I packed, followed by some sandwiches and chips.
“It’s nothing fancy,” I apologize.
“It’s perfect.”
“I got the arbitration date today for the custody hearing,” I tell Clay after a few minutes of eating and enjoying the view.
Clay swallows the bite in his mouth and looks at me with worry. “When is it?”
“In two weeks. I’m nervous,” I admit. “Beck doesn’t seem confident I can win this.”
Clay puts a hand on my knee and then rubs it up and down my thigh in a comforting motion.
“I know; I’m sorry. If you don’t get custody, we’ll have to figure something out.”
“Figure what out? That’s it, that’s the end of the line,” I argue.
Clay frowns and then turns to look out over the city sitting far beneath us in the distance.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Clay says ominously.
“Clay—”
“Let’s drop this for now and wait to see what happens.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree reluctantly. I don’t like the look in Clay’s eyes, and I don’t like the implication. But he’s right; there’s no need to have this conversation before we know what’s going to happen.