Page 61 of Love in Pieces

?CHAPTER 23

Abby

Dallas told me he hada surprise for me today. He said it was a delayed birthday present. I honestly can’t remember the last time someone had a proper surprise for me. I’ve gotten little gifts from people for my birthday, but this feels big. And for the first time in a while, I find myself gratefully forgetting everything happening in my life. He said he took the day off from work and made sure I was free from any plans as well. He even contacted Meredith to make sure I wouldn’t plan anything.

When I got up this morning, a huge smile was plastered on his face. He told me to wear something comfortable and easy to move around in. The only requirement was he told me to dress like I was going out for a motorcycle ride. I obey his commands, happily dancing out of my room. I put on a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, a black racerback tank top depicting a few rose sketches, and topped it with my riding jacket.

“Do you want to braid your hair before we go?”

“Oh yeah, good point.” I run into the bathroom, running the brush down the length of my hair, making another mental note that I need to redye my roots soon. I keep pushing it off. They’re getting bad, the light brown hair dreadfully exposed. As I twist the final elastic, snapping it into place, I peek my head out of the bathroom. “Anything else I need before we leave?”

“Just you’re pretty face,” Dallas beams from the front door. He smiles, holding out my helmet.

“Hmm, is this the first hint?” I ask, slipping into my black boots.

“This is just the transportation.” He grabs his own helmet and his motorcycle key. I start reaching for mine, but he stops me. “Nope, you’re riding bitch today.”

I furrow my brows, exaggerating the pouting lip I stick out at him. “Awe, come on.”

“You stick that thing out any farther and I promise you, I will bite it.” He smirks before opening the front door.

My cheeks flush as heat floods my core and I think I might melt right then and there from the way he scans the rest of my body. “And I promise you, that I bite back.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m counting on it.”

“Get a room!” Logan shouts from the couch, his eyes still glued to his phone.

Dallas and I both laugh. “Fine. But next time I get to ride my own.”

“Deal.” He motions for me to leave, and I head toward the parking lot where his bike is parked between mine and Logan’s. He starts the bike, letting the engine purr a few minutes before climbing on. “Hop on,” he says through his open visor.

I slip my helmet on before taking my place behind him. “Do I get any more hints? Or do I have to wait until we get there?”

He clicks his bike into first and I instinctually wrap my arms around his torso. “Oh, you’ll figure it out before we arrive. It’s kind of hard to miss.”

Confusion laces my features, but I pull my visor closed, the wind sliding past me, letting it take all my negative emotions with it. He holds my leg close to his hip, tracing light circles on my knee as we effortlessly glide through traffic. I watch as the buildings slowly rise above us, the skyscrapers coming into view as we make our way into the city. I’m still confused for a little while but when we take an exit labeled “Target Field Ramp C,” it dawns on me and I can’t help the giddy wiggles.

I haven’t been to the stadium since my dad died. I haven’t let myself even consider buying tickets. I squeeze Dallas’s torso tighter, hoping he picks up on my excitement. He squeezes my knee in reply before carefully pulling into the parking ramp. He drives to the top floor and parks in the corner.

“You did not,” I squeal, rapidly pulling my helmet off.

“I did,” he smiles. He takes both helmets and locks them on the bike. I run to the railing to see if I can see into the stadium. “You know, you’ll get to see everything once we get inside.” He extends a hand, wiggling his fingers for me to take, so I grab on, and we walk toward the main gate.

I didn’t ask where our seats were as I nearly ran through the main level. I assumed we were up higher as that’s what I’ve always been used to. There isn’t a bad seat in this place so I truly wouldn’t mind but when I head for the escalator to go up, Dallas asks “Where are you going in such a rush?”

“Where are we sitting? I assumed we were up top.”

He laughs. “Oh no.” He pulls me toward the lower section of seating, looking for our section number. When he finally finds it, he looks behind me, a large grin on his face. He moves to the steps, offering for me to go first. “My lady.”

---