Page 7 of The Biker and the Professor
I’d like to say I don’t know how this happened, considering there were no other cars, deer, ghosts, or even wind-drifting plastic bags around at the time I careened off the road, but now as I look in dismay at my partially levitating car, I know exactly what’s caused this: those damn limoncello squares that Cookie gave me.
Mygreedyself had scarfed down over half the batch she gave me without considering the forty percent alcohol involved. Then mystupidself got behind a wheel.
I could’ve killed someone. I could’ve killed myself.
Worse part? In my mad dash for Cherry Garcia, I forgot to take my phone.
Yep, I’m stranded on the side of the road in the wee hours of the morning with a smashed, levitating vehicle and no phone. It’s so like me to land myself in a hapless situation like this.
I’m off the main, so there aren’t many cars passing at this hour. One pickup truck did stop to offer assistance, but the two bulky men inside looked dodgy as hell, so I lied and said help was on the way.
Two other cars passed since then, but neither stopped, even though I all but leaped in the middle of the road to get their attention. Can’t blame them, though, considering there have been multiple reports of people getting robbed or abducted after stopping to offer roadside assistance to fakers lately.
“Great,” I grumble to myself, cold, frustrated, and mildly buzzed. “Just great. This is what lack of self-control gets you, Toni. You just had to get that Cherry Garcia, didn’t you?”
Oh no, my Cherry Garcia! Rushing around the car, I gingerly open the door. I spot the plastic bag on the floor, the ice-cream tub toppled upside down inside. As I greedily reach for it, the car creaks in warning. Yikes!
Cautious but eager fingers stretch determinedly until I have them wrapped tightly around the bag. Slowly, I back away from the vehicle. “You’re safe, baby, you’re safe,” I whisper to my sweet treat. “I would never let you melt to death.”
With no cellphone to call for help and no one stopping to offer assistance, purse and ice-cream in hand, I turn around and begin walking, praying Cherry Garcia doesn’t melt into a pool of milk before I get home.
About five minutes into my promenade, another glow of light illuminates the street. I don’t bother attempting to stop them; it’s futile. I probably should have gone with the dodgy dudes in the pick-up.
The accompanying rumble is not from a car, though, but a motorcycle. The rev of the engine tapers, the sound of deceleration. Hopeful, I stop walking and whip around, shielding my eyes from the scintillating headlight.
As the motorist slows to stop, I clutch my purse to my chest.
“That your car back there?” he asks over the rumble.
The light is still too bright for me to make out his face, so I’m slow to answer, “Uh-huh.”
“You called a wrecker?”
“Can you dim your lights, please?” I ask. “You’re blinding me.” As much as I need help, I also need to assess how “safe” this stranger is before I admit to having no means to summon help.
Complying, he switches off the motorcycle, kicks down the kickstand, dismounts, and starts moving toward me.
My heart skips a beat.
He doesn’t even have to take his helmet off. I’d recognize that height, those shoulders, and that saunter anywhere.
“Nero Gunnar?”
“Professor Blume.” He stops sauntering and pulls off his helmet. “Thought that was you…”
I give a tiny, sheepish wave. “Yep, it’s me.”
He shakes his head, his messy bun jerking with the motion, throws a glance over his shoulder, then back at me. “What happened?”
“Cherry Garcia?”
He frowns. “Huh?”
Holding up the bag with the tub of Ben & Jerry’s inside, I expound, “I was feeling peckish, and now I’ve found myself in a bit of a jam.” I brush windblown hair from my face. “And to answer your question: no, I haven’t called a tow truck because I forgot my phone at home.”
“Come here,” he orders as he digs into his pocket for his phone.
I balk at the command. Because,what? Who speaks to someone like that? But then I go to him, because, screw it, the sooner I get home, the sooner I can have my sweet treat.
