Chapter Twenty-Four

Adele was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed. “So, you’re going back tonight?”

I nodded. “I don’t have time to waste. Every second that I’m here, he’s getting more of an upper hand. I just came back to throw my bike into the back of my truck.” I wriggled my forehead. “She wants me to take her for a ride.”

“That’s great and all. I just hope she’s not taking you for a ride.”

“That’s kind of what I’ve been angling for, Sis.”

“You know what I mean! Stringing you along. The fact that she has a boyfriend who seems like a good guy makes this complicated. She’s not going to want to hurt him.”

“I’m aware this isn’t ideal. But here is the key to what I needed to know.” I stuck my hand in my back pocket, pulling out Aubrey’s house key. “Right here.”

“That’s a literal key.”

“Exactly.” I winked. “He doesn’t have one. She gave one to me. Granted, it was to be able to use the toilet at my leisure while I’m doing her lawn. But what does the fact that he doesn’t have one say?”

“That he’s not cutting her grass.” She laughed. “Believe me, I want to think that you’re going to get the girl in the end, but the alternative makes me nervous. That’s all. What happens then?”

“Then, your dear old brokenhearted brother camps out on his couch eating a shitload of Tim Tams all day in his pajamas.”

She threw a pillow at me. “That’s what scares me.”

“You’re worried about me.” I threw the pillow back. “That’s cute but unnecessary.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

Back in Temecula, with my bike gassed up, I was anxious to see her. It was Friday afternoon, so she was still in work. Unable to contain my excitement, I sent her a text.

Chance: In the mood to straddle me?

Aubrey: Excuse me?

Chance: Get your mind out of the gutter, dirty girl. I brought the Harley back from Hermosa Beach. Care to live out your little biker fantasy with me?

Aubrey: You want to take me out?

Chance: Among other things, yes.

Aubrey: When?

Chance: This weekend sometime if you’re free. I was thinking we could take a little road trip.

Aubrey: The last time I did that with you, it got me into trouble.

Chance: Come on, Princess. I’ll let you call me Charlie Hummer.

Aubrey: Hunnam. LOL. Charlie Hunnam!

Chance: I like Hummer better.

Aubrey: I’m sure you do, pervert.

Chance: Who’s the pervert? I was talking about the vehicle. What were you talking about? Better yet…can you demonstrate?

Aubrey: You’re unbelievable.

Chance: Are you smiling?

Aubrey: Maybe.

Chance: Good. So, what do you say?

Aubrey: I can’t do it tomorrow. What about Sunday?

Not wanting to wait an entire day to spend time with her, disappointment set in.

Chance: I happen to be available Sunday.

Aubrey: Do I need to bring anything?

Chance: I’ve got it taken care of.

Aubrey: That scares me.

Chance: LOL. It should.

Aubrey: See you Sunday then.

Chance: What time shall I pick you up?

Aubrey: Noon?

Chance: Sounds good.

She didn’t respond. I couldn’t help sending one last text.

Chance: I can’t wait.

I spent the rest of Friday afternoon and evening preparing for our Sunday trip. First order of business: buying Aubrey a helmet. At the store, I nearly died in laughter when I spotted one that was supposed to look like the green skin of a watermelon. It had a triangle sliced into it that made it appear like a chunk was cut off. I figured she’d kill me if I made her wear that. I settled on a different one that was perfect for her.

Not used to riding with anyone, I also adjusted the rear suspension on the bike in preparation for my passenger.

Back at the motel, I went online in search of a route that we could take and a good place where we could stop. I found a town called Julian that was about seventy-six miles away. That would mean about a two-hour ride. It was a mountainous area about an hour east of San Diego and apparently known for its apple pies. Apple pie for my apple-bottom girl. Julian it was.

I kept fantasizing about finding a bed and breakfast there where we could stay the night but knew that she would never go for that. So, our destination had to be easily doable in a round trip, getting us back to Temecula at a decent hour.

Sunday finally rolled around. I made sure I pulled out all the stops in looking every bit like Aubrey’s biker boy fantasy. Wearing a distressed brown leather jacket, blue jeans and my shiny black helmet, I was ready to claim the only woman I ever wanted on the back of my ride. Charlie Hummer better watch out.

Rather than go to her door, I revved the engine of the bike right in front of her house, prompting her to come outside. The entire neighborhood was now aware of my arrival.

Aubrey came out, and it warmed my heart to see her smiling. She was wearing a short, tight black leather jacket that hugged her tits. Fuck me. Her hair was down, and she wore high black leather boots over her jeans.

As I held out her helmet, my mouth spread into a huge smile. “God, you look fucking hot.”

She covered her mouth in laughter when she looked down at the pink helmet I’d picked out that had the words Biker Princess etched onto the side. “Biker Princess? Did you have this made?”

“No. They had it at the bike shop. How perfect is that? It was fate.”

“What would really be perfect is if yours said Cocky Bastard.” She winked. I was thrilled to see that the version of her that showed up today was feisty Aubrey. My dick was even more thrilled.

“Ready to roll, Princess?”

“Honestly, I’m a little scared. I’ve never been on one of these in my life.”

“You know the feeling you have when you’re riding in a convertible?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, times that by ten. That’s what it’s gonna be like. Fucking awesome, Aubrey.”

She still looked nervous.

“Are you nervous, baby?”

“I can’t help it.”

“Don’t be scared. Just don’t let go of me. That’s the main thing you have to remember.”

Please don’t ever let go of me.

“Believe me. I won’t,” she said.

“Is that a promise?”

She blushed knowing what I was really getting at and ignored the question.

“This is my first time too, you know,” I said.

“What do you mean? You’ve been on a motorcycle plenty of times.”

“Yes, but you’re the first woman that’s ever ridden behind me.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I put the helmet over her head. “Here, let me help you.” Adjusting the strap, I looked into her beautiful eyes, and said, “Now, I’m gonna teach you some things before we leave. I read up on some safety stuff.”

“Alright.” She looked adorable with that huge pink helmet on her head.

I sat on the bike. “Hop on behind me.”

She did as I said.

“Wrap your arms around my waist.”

I stilled for a moment at the feel of them wrapped around me tightly. “See what you’re doing now? Just keep doing it. Hold onto me as tightly you can.”

“Okay.”

I looked behind her. “Now this is very important. When I turn a corner, just relax your body. Don’t lean against the turn. That’s going to be your impulse, but don’t do it. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“The other thing is, it’s going to be hard for us to hear each other unless we really yell. So, if you don’t want to scream and for any reason, you need me to stop, just tap me on the shoulder. But that’s the only time you’re allowed to let go.”

My rules regarding holding on for dear life were a bit of an exaggeration. But I was going to milk the experience of being close to her for all it was worth.

“Let’s get going. Ready?”

She shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

I cranked the engine, and we took off down some side roads before entering the highway. Aubrey never did let go. Not once. I never imagined how good it would feel to have someone behind me. Well, I suppose it was because it was her behind me. I’d forgotten how much I missed riding too, that feeling of shifting through the gears, the wind hitting my face and the sensory overload. It was the next best thing to sex—a feeling of absolute power. Having to focus intently on the road and everything around me brought about a strange sense of calm.

As much fun as it was, I was all too aware of how careful I needed to be with Aubrey’s life in my hands. Being on a bike makes you overly conscious of your own mortality, particularly when you’re on the freeway. Our route alternated between the highway and open country roads that were surrounded by mountains. Even though the scenery was breathtaking, I missed her beautiful face. I couldn’t wait to see her all wind-burned with her hair messed up.

One of the most fun parts of the ride for me was trying to communicate with Aubrey. She couldn’t really hear what I was saying. So, I’d shout things for the fuck of it that I wished I could say to her.

We were riding along, almost at our destination when I shouted, “I can’t wait till you sit on my face.”

“What’s that?”

“I said, I can’t wait to show you this place.”

Another time it was, “I think we should get married for real.”

“What?”

“Whatever happened to Captain and Tennille?”

When we arrived in Julian, Aubrey looked exactly as I expected she would. Her face was red from the wind, her hair wild. It took everything in me not to smash my lips into hers.

Shaking out her hair, she asked, “What are we doing first?”

I was so fixated on her, the question hadn’t immediately registered. “Huh?”

She repeated, “Where are we going?”

“I heard this place is known for their apple pie. Why don’t we go find some?”

Aubrey chuckled. “We travelled nearly two hours by motorcycle for apple pie?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Only you would do that. That’s one of the things I like most about you. Everything can somehow seem like an adventure. Even just getting apple pie.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It is.” She flashed the sweetest smile. “And I would love nothing more than to have apple pie with you.”

Something had definitely softened her. Maybe it was the ride. That whole experience is very intimate, especially for the passenger, given that you’re putting your life in someone else’s hands. I guess I impressed her.

Score one, Bateman.

Dick…Zero.

We walked to the Julian Café where they boasted the best apple pie in the entire town. The two of us sat in a cozy corner table up against a brick wall. They served us generous slices of warm apples baked with cinnamon into a buttery crust with dollops of vanilla ice cream on top. They weren’t kidding; it was the best I’d ever tasted. At least this day would include something orgasmic.

Our conversation started out easy enough. We talked more about the shelter, her plans to convert her guest bedroom into an office, a new type of yoga she was trying. I hoped to God I’d get to reap the benefits of that someday. I told her about my brief visit back to Hermosa Beach and my plans to put a small shed on her property to store my garden equipment. Then, I sort of went and ruined the mood.

“So, where does Dick…uh…Richard think you are today?”

“Meeting a friend.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Okay. Stretching the truth just a bit.”

“Why is that so funny? Aren’t we supposedly trying to be friends? That was your idea.”

“I use the term friend very loosely. Sort of like—oh, I don’t know—girlfriend.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“No, you’re my fucking wife.”

“Chance…”

“Relax. I’m kidding.” Not really. “Look, my point is, you can convince yourself that this is innocent for now, but I doubt Dick would want you spending time with a supposed friend whose ultimate goal is to steal you from him. Said friend also happens to have a key to your place when he doesn’t. Don’t think I didn’t catch that. Make no mistake about it, Aubrey. Stealing you away from him is my ulterior motive in case I hadn’t made that crystal clear. I’m your friend for now, but that’s not enough for me. Never will be. I want you beneath me every night and across from me every morning at the breakfast table. Fuck that, I want you for breakfast. I won’t be satisfied until I own all of you.” Pissed at myself for losing my composure on what was supposed to be a peaceful trip for pie, I pulled at my hair and looked down at my empty plate. My voice lowered. “I’m sorry. I just can’t fucking pretend.”

Taken aback, she was quiet but nodded in understanding. “It’s okay.”

After my awkward outburst, we needed a change of scenery. I got up out of my seat. “You want to take a walk around, see the sights, before we head back on the road?”

“I’d love to.”

We went for a stroll and ended up stopping inside a small bookstore that also sold trinkets. Aubrey was eying this bracelet that had some Buddhist peace symbol on it. When she became immersed in a Deepak Chopra book, I took one of the bracelets to the register and bought it.

Once we stepped outside, I handed it to her. “Here. I wanted to get you something so that you remember your first trip by motorcycle. I hope it’s not the last.”

“As if I could ever forget this day,” she said. “But that was really sweet of you. Thank you. I love it so much.”

“I know. I saw you looking at it. I was looking at you, because I can’t keep my eyes off you. So…” I put my hands in my pockets and looked around as my words trailed off.

She placed it on her tiny wrist. “Maybe this will help channel some much needed peace in my life.”

As we stood there on the sidewalk, it really hit me that this situation was equally hard on her. I spent so much time immersed in my own fears that I had a tendency to forget what all of this might have been like for Aubrey. To have me come back practically from the dead just when she was getting her life in order. It turned her world upside down.

So tempted to hold her hand, I grinded my teeth and refrained. Instead, I said, “Hiking is big around here. If we had more time, we could have stayed at one of the cabins, made a weekend out of it. I know you have to get back.”

“Maybe another time.” She smiled.

“Yeah.”

About an hour later, we were back on the open road. Something about the tone of the ride home was much different than the first trip. As the reddish sun was setting on the horizon, her grip on me had definitely relaxed a bit. We were both quiet, and about halfway through, Aubrey rested her chin on my back. It was a small gesture but sent what felt like electricity through me. It meant everything. It was easy to envision us taking trips like this every weekend. There was nothing like the feeling of having your woman on the back of your bike.

She was my woman. Whether or not I was her man was the question that remained.

When we pulled up to her bungalow, the sound of crickets replaced the roaring engine of the bike as I shut it off. We both sat there in silence. She wasn’t getting off and hadn’t let go of my waist, so I didn’t move.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice was quiet. “I won’t string you along forever, Chance. I promise. It’s not fair. I have to figure this out.”

I lifted her hands that were still wrapped around my waist and clutched them tightly around my chest. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, Princess.”

She let out a deep breath and jumped off the bike while I stayed on. I could see Pixy in the window watching us. Blind goat, my ass.

I tugged at the front of her leather jacket flirtatiously. “When will I see you again?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Think about it.”

“Thank you for today. I’ll never forget it.”

Her last comment didn’t sit well in my stomach.

I’ll never forget it.

“You did great, Princess. I can’t wait to do this again.”

On the ride home that night, I made a tough decision. I was going to lie low for a bit, give her some space. They say if you let something go and it doesn’t come back to you, it was never really yours to begin with. But considering I was the one who initially left in this situation, all bets were off.