Page 8 of The Storms Between Us
"I've got your set right here," I hold them up in my palm, "and I'm getting ready to head out now so you can follow me if you want to." This is not a good idea. I already don't trust myself around this woman.
"Okay, if you're sure. I am exhausted, so I really don't wanna wait a few more hours for him." She looks relieved as she runs her hands across her hair, catching the fly-aways that have fallen out of her messy bun.
"Yeah, let me just lock up my shit and tell Ev we're leaving. Be right out." I watch her walk out the front door and climb into the driver's seat of her cherry red Jeep Wrangler.
I knock on the door frame of Everett's station, and he snaps his attention to me. His client is finishing a chest piece that's been stretched out over several sessions, so this should be the last.
"Hey, your sister is looking pretty beat and I'm done for the night. You cool if we head out? She's gonna follow me back to the house, and I don't mind helping her unload shit." I tell him.
"Yeah, dude, that would be awesome. I feel shitty that I'm tied up here, but I've had this appointment booked for months and we're both ready to be done. Just tell her to leave any of the bigger shit she brought locked in the trailer and I'll take care of it tomorrow." He tells me dismissively, already turning back to focus on his client.
I lock up my station and grab my helmet and jacket from the table in the kitchen. I take a quick look over the schedule for tomorrow and head out the front door, locking it behind me. I can see Ember with her head laying against her steering wheel and it's pretty damn adorable. I tap lightly on the window, not trying to scare her, but she startles awake, immediately looking around like a scared deer. Once she sees me, her shoulders relax and she rolls the window down.
"You ready?" She nods. "Ok, follow me. When we get there, you pull up all the way into the garage and we'll lock your shit up so we don't have to unload everything tonight."
She gives me a nod and a small smile as I walk over to my bike. Swinging my leg over the seat of my Harley Softail, I drop my ass onto the cool leather and rev the engine. The sound of the pipes is always music to my ears. I pull out onto the road, hoping the drive will clear my mind of thoughts of the green-eyed beauty behind me.
