Page 33 of Wild Child
The knot in my stomach works itself through my body until it gets to my head and finally gives my brain the message.
It’s not just desire I feel for Charlie, although my desire for her is strong. So strong I’ve been blinded to my other feelings for her.
It’s more than a physical attraction between us. I love her. I love that wild, crazy woman.
She knew it too. That’s why she tried so hard to show me. I thought she wanted to give in to our attraction, but it’s more than that and she knows it.
“I’ve been an ass.”
Raiden stops speaking, and I have idea what he’s been talking about.
“Sorry?”
“I gotta go.”
I hang up on my club president and push my chair back.
Not giving into lust is discipline, but letting love walk out of your life is a sin.
“Add this to the room,” I tell the waitress as I jog out of the inn.
I race down the steps. And jump into the truck.
18
CHARLIE
Green Day blasts through my headphones. Damn, Quentin has gotten so into my head that I’m even into his music now.
The lyrics to “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” slice straight to my heart, and tears sting the corner of my eyes.
“Nope.”
The woman in the seat next to me gives me a funny look, because yeah, I just said that out loud. But I will not cry any tears until this bus is on its way and I’m on the road away from here and away from whatever it was I thought I might have found with Quentin.
I wipe at my eyes and change the song. Slow guitar strings flood the headphones, and I skip that one too. I skip through ten songs before I find something that doesn’t remind me of Quentin. I must download some upbeat shit for situations like this.
The bus driver throws the last bag in the underneath storage and closes it up. He climbs into the cab, and the bus doors wheeze shut. We’ll be moving soon, and I can leave all this behind.
I’ll go back to Mom’s. Despite her faults, there’s always a bed at her place for me. I’ll get work at a diner and plan my next move. I’ve started again before; I can do it again now.
The thought of the Californian heat makes me tense. It’s not a climate suited for bike leathers and heavy boots. I don’t fit in there. I never have. I thought the mountains and Dad’s MC club might be more my scene. And up until a few hours ago, I was enjoying myself.
But I’m not hanging around to watch Quentin do the honorable thing. Either he’s too stupid to see what’s between us, or he really is too much up his own ass.
He’s a military man and they always put honor first, before anything or anyone else. I should have learned that from my father.
But I can’t help the feelings I’ve developed for Quentin. How could I?
Thoughts of him has tears threatening my eyes again, and I clench my fists until my fingernails bite into my palms.
I will not cry.
I turn the music up and turn away from the window. The woman next to me gives me a small smile and I hate the pity in her eyes, like she knows I’ve been rejected.
I close my eyes, and with the sounds of Pink blaring in my headphones, the bus rolls out of town.
I must doze off, because I awake with a start as the bus jolts over a pothole.
