Page 8 of Falling for the Bad Boy
I hadn’t had a passenger on the back of my bike before. I held it steady as she tossed one leg over, straddling the seat. It hadn’t made sense for me to invest in a car, but I couldn’t pass up the motorcycle I’d seen posted online. Now, as I was about to nestle myself between Trinity’s thighs, I was glad I’d invested some of my savings in the bike. I took my time getting settled, enjoying the way her legs wrapped around my hips. She put her hands on my shoulders, barely gripping on. That would change when I got up to speed.
"Where are we going?" I tossed over my shoulder.
"You know Fremont? Down along the river?" she asked.
I nodded. "I’ll head that way. Just let me know when we get close."
"Okay."
"I won’t bite, you know."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the edges of my shoulders. I balanced the bike between my legs and fired up the engine. We wouldn’t have much of an opportunity to chat on the way. The roar of the wind and rumble of the engine would make sure of that. I wasn’t even sure where to start with the questions. But as we rode through the empty downtown streets, I tried to come up with a plan. Buildings flew past as we wound our way toward the river. I took a wide right down a side street then turned onto Fremont.
The leftover scent of the earlier thunderstorm hung in the air. We left the crowded downtown area, racing parallel to the river. I hadn’t spent much time in this part of town. The older buildings gave way to more modern construction. As I eased the bike to a stop at a red light, Trinity leaned close, her chest pressing against my back.
"It’ll be up here on the left." She reached around my shoulder, her arm brushing mine, to point at a sleek condo.
"That's where you live?"
"No. That’s where I’m staying."
The light changed and I put it in gear. A few moments later, I eased to a stop at the curb. Before I had a chance to cut the engine, she’d hopped off the back, her fingers already working on the chin strap of the helmet.
"Thanks for the ride."
I tucked the helmet she handed me under my arm and used my foot to pop the kickstand.
"You don’t have to see me in or anything. I promise I can make it safely from here."
I waited for the inevitable eye roll, but she smiled instead. The corners of her mouth curved up and not for the first time that night I wondered what it might feel like to kiss her, to tease that soft, full bottom lip with my own. Before I let myself get carried away, I had to start thinking of her as a barrier standing in the way of my future. I’d been caught up in those mesmerizing green eyes, sandwiched between her long legs. As much as I’d enjoyed it, I couldn’t let it get in the way of gaining some info. That had been the whole point of bringing her home.
"So when are you moving in?" I tried to stall her.
She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "I’m not sure yet. But probably soon."
"Do you have a lot to move? Wyatt said something about you starting an art gallery?"
"Not exactly." She twisted her upper body, pointing toward the door. "I’ve got to go. Thanks again for the ride."
"Yeah, anytime."
She cast her gaze my way one last time before disappearing down the paved path leading to the front door of the building. I waited, some small part of me wishing she’d come back so I could get the answers I wanted... the answers I needed. As I fiddled with the helmet, adjusting the strap before fitting it onto my head, my patience was rewarded.
Trinity reappeared. "Looks like my friend has a few people over. Do you want to come up?"
CHAPTER 4
Trinity
"So how long are you staying here?" Oliver trailed behind me down the long hall.
"Depends."
"Are you always so vague?" he asked.
I smiled to myself. It wasn’t that I was trying to be vague—I really didn’t know. Macy was one of my oldest friends. We’d known each other since we were in the same pre-school ballet class at Miss Donna’s School of Dance. Macy had gone on to compete on the dance team while my true love turned to color ways, patterns and art. We’d grown up with opposite interests and different styles. But we’d always been there for each other.
I put my hand on the doorknob of Macy’s condo. "Ready for this?"
