Page 9 of Axel

“I needed to talk to you,” he says, glancing around the parking lot as if he’s worried we’re being watched. The fear isn’t unfounded. “I know you’re involved with the Apex Runners.”

“Excellent observational skills,” I say as my body tenses. I should have guessed this was why he turned up. It would be ridiculous to think he’s here because he felt the same connection I did yesterday. Instead, he’s worried about some turf war that I’m apparently in the middle of now.

“You’re in danger,” he says, sure of himself. But, again, he’s got excellent observational skills. I’m not confirming thatfor him, though. I need him as far out of this business as possible.

I really need to get this crush under control. There’s no way that I’ll be able to exploreanythingwith Axel as long as I’m working out my father’s debt. So, I’m never going to be able to pursue anything with him. It’s best if I push him away, get him out of my life. I can’t let myself or him get hurt because of my father’s bad decisions.

“I’m not in danger,” I say, straightening up my back and leveling him with the most confident look I can – the one I use to reassure patients that they have a fighting chance after I give them bad news. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m okay. Really. There’s nothing to get worked up over.”

“So, it’s ‘okay’ that you were roughed up in front of your house?” he asks, no nonsense and firm. “Maybe you have a different idea of what can be considered danger, but the scene I came across was something that warrants concern.”

“Then I guess we have two different ideas,” I say, desperate to cut this interrogation short. If he keeps questioning me, I’m liable to break and tell him everything.

“You’re telling me you don’t care about your safety?” he challenges, stepping close to me. I have to tilt my head up to maintain eye contact. He’s even more attractive from this angle.

God, I need to get out of here before I do something stupid.

“Why do you care?” I say, my words not as strong as I’d like them to be. Still, I power through, trying to reason with him and myself. “We just met. We don’t even really know each other. I appreciate what you did for me and that you’re concerned, but I don’t have any reason to tell you what’s going on. It’s probablybest for both of us that you get out of here before anyone sees you.”

Axel pauses, and for a moment I think that I’ve gotten through to him and he’s going to leave. He even climbs onto his bike. But then, he looks at me pointedly and says, “Get on.”

“Why?” I say, resisting the urge to do exactly as he says. I need to at least put up a fight here.

“We can’t have this conversation in the hospital parking lot,” he says.

I hesitate, if only so I can tell myself that I tried. Then, I climb on behind, acutely aware of how close together our bodies are pressed. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on as the engine roars to life.

“Hold on tight,” he tells me, his voice booming over the sound of the bike.

I do as he says, tightening my arms around him. Holding onto him like this makes my face flush. It feels right, and I can sense his strength through his jacket. I wish that we weren’t out in public, that he was facing me and holding onto me too.

He takes off, driving quickly out of the parking lot. We go relatively slowly, riding carefully through the traffic in town. Then, when we hit the open road, he picks up our speed. I’m hit with a rush of adrenaline.

I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before today. I’ve never understood the appeal or the reason that people are so into their bikes or why MCs host long rides. I get it now. The feeling of the wind whipping around our bodies and the way the motorcycle roars beneath us is the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever felt.

The longer we ride, the further we get away from town. The joy of the ride starts to fade. There are no signs of us slowingdown, and our surroundings are starting to look unfamiliar to me. Being out this far from town with someone I don’t know well makes me a little nervous.

Finally, he stops in a remote place and kills the engine. After a second of getting used to the absence of the rumble and roar of the bike, I get off, keeping my hands on Axel’s waist until both of my feet are on solid ground. After I let go, he dismounts, his face contorting slightly with pain when he puts weight on his bad leg.

I glance around our surroundings. There’s nothing for miles, nothing between us and the mountains in the distance. The sun is slowly sinking below the horizon, and the brightest stars are starting to appear in the sky.

Axel grabs something from the under-seat storage area. Then, he offers me his hand. I take it without thinking. I let him lead me even further away from where he parked his bike. When we stop, he unfolds a blanket and lays it on the ground before gesturing for me to sit.

I take the invitation, noting how private this place feels despite the open air. Once I’m on the ground, I stare up at him, watching as he sinks down next to me. He sits close, and I can feel his body heat radiating through his clothes.

He tilts his head up toward the sky, and I follow suit. The two of us sit in a silence that’s profoundly right, watching as more and more stars join the scenery. It’s peaceful, enough to remind me that my problems are small in the grand scheme of things. I’m overcome by the sense that everything’s going to work out. I just don’t know how yet.

“You asked me why I cared about what’s happening with you and the Apex Runners,” he says, his voice soothing. Without even thinking about it, I lean in closer to him, letting our bicepspress together. “It’s because I want the people in my community to be safe. It’s obvious that you don’t want to be working with them. And, since I’m being honest here, I like you Hazel. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I want to help you.”

I shrug, unable to ignore how comforted and cared for those words make me feel. I should open up to him, but the thought of doing that makes my stomach twist. So, I say, “That’s noble, Axel. But I don’t know you. I’m not going to tell you all my shit.”

“I figured you’d say something like that,” he says, threading our fingers together. I glance down at our intertwined hands, my heart flip-flopping in my chest at the sight of how his palm completely dwarfs mine. “You know, I joined the MC when I was eighteen.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, looking at his side profile, struck by how devastatingly handsome he is in the moonlight.

“I can’t expect you to tell me what you’re going through if I don’t share anything about myself first, right?”

“Oh,” I breathe.

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