Lex

I met Adam at his house at 6:00, and although he’d been home for an hour, we really hadn’t spoken. I felt like something must have happened, but I knew better than to ask.

He’d made it clear that club business was not to ever be discussed.

I stood and then looked down at him. He seemed depressed. “Get up.”

He looked at me. His eyes were emotionless.

“Get up,” I said.

He stood, and then pulled his hat down low on his head. “What?”

“Follow me,” I said.

I walked out the front door and down the steps. As I reached the landing, I turned toward him. “Need some help?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

He limped toward the edge of the porch, and then carefully walked down the steps. “Where are we going?”

“Just follow me,” I said.

I walked to the garage, unlocked the door, and opened it. “Come here.”

“I’m really worn the fuck out,” he said. “It’s been--”

“Come on,” I said. “I’m waiting.”

He walked inside the garage and put his hands on his hips. “What now?”

“Get on,” I said.

He sighed, and then got on the motorcycle.

I put the key in the ignition, turned it, and then checked to see if the green light lit up. When it did, I flipped the switch on the handlebars. Then, I pushed the start button.

The engine turned over a few times, and then came to life.

“Put your hands up on the bars,” I said.

He reached for the bars and rested his hands against the handle grips.

“Your right hand is the throttle,” I said. “Close your eyes and turn it back a little.”

He did as I asked. After revving the engine a few times, he grinned.

“Therapeutic, isn’t it?” I asked.

He opened his eyes and nodded.

“Close ‘em,” I said. “Until whatever’s bothering you is gone.”

As his arms shook, I looked him over. The bruises were gone from his face, and his arms weren’t healed, but they were a lot better than they were. Small scabs covered the tip of a dozen or more burns that were shaped like little volcanoes.

Two of the cuts on his face were healed, and two weren’t. The two that had healed were going to scar, but not near as bad as the others.

It was the scars I couldn’t see that bothered me.

And not on his leg or his foot.

The scars on his soul.

It was something I knew a little bit about. But every day, I got a little better. Every day, I got closer to understanding that I could trust him fully and completely. And, every day, I got closer to allowing myself to attempt to have sex with him.

I knew he wouldn’t push it. He wasn’t that type of person, and he cared for me too much to hurt me.

But, when I was ready, he would be too.

At least I hoped he would be.

I stood there and admired him for what seemed like forever, but I wasn’t one to ever complain about looking at him. The scars on his face gave him character, and made him that much more intriguing.

Hopefully, in a few years, we’d both be able to look back at our experiences and realize that they helped shape us into who we had become.

I hoped that person was a little more reserved with outsiders, and a lot more trusting with the man I loved.

At some point, he opened his eyes and looked at me.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m done. You can turn it off now.”

I tried to remember exactly what he’d said the night he let me sit on it. After a few seconds, I grinned. “You sure?” I asked.

He nodded. “Uh huh.”

I flipped the switch, and the garage went silent.

“That was awesome,” he said.

“Relaxing, isn’t it?”

He smiled. It was an honest to God genuine smile. “It’s hypnotic,” he said.

“Are you relaxed?”

“I love you,” he said. “I really do.”

It was the first time he’d told me. I’d known I’d loved him for some time, but was reluctant to tell him first. I gazed down at my feet for a moment, and then met his gaze. “I love you, too. Let’s go inside.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay out here?” he asked. “It’s nice. We could sit on the porch.”

“No,” I said. “Let’s go inside. I don’t think the neighbors ought to watch us fuck. At least not the first time.”

“What?” he coughed.

“Sex. I’m ready for it.” I giggled. ‘You think you’re up to it?”

“I think we could work something out,” he said.

I looked at his cast, turned toward the house, and took off running.

“Last one in gets the wet spot,” I said over my shoulder.

It was going to be a bad deal for the loser.

I planned on making a big one.