Page 26 of Between Brothers

Chapter 9

Hayley

I was nervous. It was Saturday and a week and a day since my date with Blue; and I was waiting at the curb in front of my house for Duracell’s arrival. It was nine o’clock in the morning on the dot, the time he’d asked me to be ready and waiting, and I could hear him coming.

It was at least sunny between spates of clouds today and the temperature was more autumn like than it had been. He pulled up to the curb in front of me and shut off the bike. He crossed his arms and leaned forward against its gas tank, his eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses. He pulled them off and his eyes were smiling. Some of the apprehension drained from my body and he reached out, smoothing a thumb along my cheek.

It was the most Blue-like thing he’d ever done, and for a moment, it was like he really saw me.

“Really want to kiss you hello,” he said and I blushed faintly and smiled, nodding.

I leaned in and he pressed his lips to mine, warm, and chaste by his standards. Just once, twice, a third time, barely sucking on my bottom lip with absolutely no tongue. It surprised me. He was being very respectful of my boundaries with that one kiss, which knowing him the little bit that I did, respecting boundaries wasn’t exactly Cell’s thing.

“Hi,” I murmured lamely when he broke the kiss, settling back down onto the seat of his motorcycle.

He smiled and said, “Been looking forward to this for almost two weeks, you ready?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I think I am.”

He grinned, pleased and said, “Good deal. You ride before?”

“Once, with Blue.”

“Alright, look at you! Gotta be brave to get on the back of my bike. No joke, I like to go fast and we’re going to have to hit the freeway to get where I want to take you.”

I nodded and said, “Thanks for the warning.” He dug into the saddle bag on one side of his bike and came up with a helmet.

“You look good, darlin’,” he said smiling. “I like the pigtails.”

They weren’t exactly pigtails, but I did have my hair braided on either side of my head to keep my hair from tangling in the wind. Cell had warned me ahead of time that he ‘didn’t do cages.’ I’d had to ask him what a cage was and he’d laughed and said, “A cage is a car in biker speak.”

He’d also said that he would make an exception if rain were in the forecast, but lucky him, there was only a thirty percent chance, and when I’d gotten up to get ready there hadn’t been gray a cloud in the sky.

I’d dressed warm, per his request, and climbed onto the back of his motorcycle in sturdy ankle high brown boots with thick, warm, gray wool socks rolled at the top. My jeans fit close to my legs, and I wore a satin and lace camisole against my skin, underneath the heather gray faux angora sweater, I could never afford the real thing. The sweater was long sleeved and long in the torso, coming down over my hips to peek out beneath my leather jacket.

I’d remembered the close fitting leather driving gloves that had come as a match to my coat, and wore a decorative darker gray scarf around my neck. I’d even added some light makeup to my appearance, a natural look, as I had on my date with Blue.

I wanted to impress them, and to be honest, I liked dressing well; I just didn’t often have an excuse to do it.

Cell was dressed much as Blue had been. Comfortable, worn-in jeans over much-used motorcycle boots. He wore a somewhat faded, but comfortable looking maroon tee shirt beneath his equally well-worn leather jacket and cut. His one concession to the chill in the air, a light gray hooded sweatshirt between his jacket and tee.

He looked good, and when I got onto the motorcycle behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, I could smell him. Clean man with a light, crisp cologne that I would be lying if I said it didn’t rouse my senses.

“You settled? You good?” he asked and I nodded. “Okay, hold on tight, here we go!” He fired up the bike and I jumped.

He eased onto my street, but wasn’t joking about going fast, making it to the stop sign at the end of the road in half the time that Blue had. By the time we reached the freeway to go wherever it was he was taking us, I could already tell I much preferred riding with Blue. His handling left me feeling as safe as you could feel on the back of a motorcycle with the pavement rushing past beneath you, but Cell? Cell’s driving made me feel like we were tempting Fate to intervene just a little too much.

I buried my face against the back of his shoulder and held on for dear life when he switched lanes to take the exit he wanted. He cut between cars with precision, but far too close for comfort and I would be glad when this ride was over. I felt his body shake with laughter at my discomfort, but it didn’t strike me as malicious.

“Trust me, baby! We’re good!” he called back, and I believed him, I really did, but riding with him, I felt, would always be an adventure and not necessarily the good kind.

He took it easier on the country roads and I had an inkling that I knew where we were headed when the signs leading to the haunted corn maze and u-pick pumpkin patch grew in frequency. He turned down a long dirt track and was very careful by comparison when it came to navigating the blacktop. He found a space for us and parked in the dried grass, tapping my leg as Blue had, to let me know I needed to get off.

I hopped down and immediately went for the chinstrap holding my helmet on, suddenly finding it restrictive. Duracell took the helmet from my hands and stowed it back in his saddlebag, stashing his own next to it. He got up and knelt down, strapping the bag closed and then stood with a satisfied ‘ah.’

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked.

I lied, I smiled as best I could and shook my head as in no; it wasn’t that bad.

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