Page 89 of The Girlfriend's Guide to Dating a Biker
April 25
Some days change everything you thought you knew about yourself. Today, I learned what it means to date a man whose life is the kind of danger most people only see in movies.
Me
He’s been gone for hours.
Megan
How are you holding up?
Me
His mum’s keeping me sane.
Megan
Silver linings.
Me
She knows this life.
Me
I’m trying to learn.
Jake’s mum and I spent the day in a strange dance of mutual distraction. She taught me her secret recipe for chicken soup (apparently passed down through generations of bikers’ mothers who, according to her, understand the healing power of homemade food). I showed her how to create music playlists on her phone.
But underneath our casual conversation ran a current of shared worry. Every motorcycle sound had us both glancing out the window. Every distant rumble made my heart skip.
“The waiting gets easier,” she said while showing me some family photos that Jake had helped her save on her phone a little while ago. “Or maybe you just get better at hiding the worry.”
I stared at a photo of teenage Jake, all attitude and defiant energy, already wearing that look that would one day make men step back. “Does it ever stop being terrifying?”
“No.” She swiped to a picture of Jake with his sister. “But you learn to trust them. To trust the brotherhood that keeps them safe.”
Between cooking, looking through old photos, and talking, my mind kept circling back to the key Jake gave me before he left. It was a statement; one I had a lot of feelings about. But right now, I couldn’t afford to analyse any of them. Not while I was still waiting to hear that he was safe. Later, though? I’d dissect every pixel of meaning from that moment in the same way I debug a stubborn line of code.
Hours dragged, the minutes crawling. Jake’s mum tried to reassure me, but I could see the same tension in her eyes.
Finally, he called and let us know he was on his way home.
Mags looked at me after the call. “I need to lie down, love. Will you be okay on your own now?”
I nodded quickly. “Of course. Get some rest. I’ll keep an ear out in case you need anything.”
She squeezed my hand before heading down the hall, her shoulders straight but her steps just the tiniest bit uneven. The sound of the bedroom door clicking shut left the apartment in silence.
I waited alone, every nerve in me strung tight, knowing Jake was on his way but not knowing what shape he was in. He hadn’t said much when he called, and while I was doing my best not to let my imagination run wild, it was doing exactly that.
Every sound in the hallway made me jump until finally, finally, the lock clicked.
Jake stepped inside, and everything in me lit up with relief . . . until I saw his face. His jaw was tight, eyes storm-dark. He didn’t greet me with words. He just crossed the room, hauled me into his chest, and held me like he was drowning and I was the only thing keeping him afloat.
“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured against my hair, voice frayed. “I need you.”
At my nod, his lips claimed mine. Raw, demanding, taking everything I had to give. But there was no desperate urgency. Just deliberate possession.
