Page 12 of Your Two Lips
She stopped behind a late model BMW SUV. Definitely money here. She bent to lower the bike rack then opened the back hatch. It was a Recon Rack. That was a serious bike rack, 100 percent utility.
“Nice rack.”
“Excuse me?” She twisted to look at me. Oh shit.
“Sorry, I meant nice bike rack.” She laughed, and the awkward moment dissolved. “There are some great trails around,” I said, trying not to blush like a teenager while I definitely did not look at her other rack. She wasn’t wearing a bra again today. So. Hot.
“I haven’t been in the woods yet,” she said. “Just road riding to get my legs and lungs in shape.” They looked fine to me. “That’s why Carrie invited me to ride with you this afternoon. I’m excited to get back out there. I’m new to the sport but already addicted.”
“Yeah. I get that.” We loaded the box and bags into her car and held our ice cream cones with otherwise empty hands. I tried and failed not to watch when her tongue darted out to lick the creamy goodness dripping down the side.
“I still have a lot to learn,” she said. “I started riding for exercise, but the forests were so beautiful, the air so clean. It was electrifying. I biked almost daily ’til it snowed.”
Her expression was soft as she scooped another bite of ice cream then looked off into the distance. “My favorite part is about an hour in. Your muscles are warm. You’re steady on the bike, and you hit an easy green-level singletrack down through the trees with a spongy forest floor and loopy turns.” She paused and closed her eyes. “You can let go. It feels like flying.” She glanced at me, holding the spoon to her tempting mouth. If she was expecting me to laugh, I disappointed her. She loved to ride as much as I did.
She was cool. We could be friends. Ride together. It’d be fine. I was a grown man. I could just ride bikes with a beautiful woman. No problem.
She turned and closed the back of the SUV. I helped her lift the rack into place. “So, I’ll see you later this afternoon,” I said.
“Yes. Umm … what are the trails like? So I’m prepared,” she added.
“There’s a lot of variety, loops, some climbs, wide track, and singletrack. With the sun lately, it’s already drying out and should be less slippery.”
She stood a little straighter as she faced me. “Carrie said it was usually a group of about ten to fourteen. In Whistler, there were a couple of guys who liked to give me a tough time hinting that girls were too slow, too cautious. Though, I recall passing them a time or two.” She looked at me, pride in her eyes along with the question.
“I wouldn’t worry about that with this group. First, we’re just having fun. No one is showing off, usually. Second, women have kicked my ass on the trail. You won’t hear me assuming anything. Third, Carrie, and Angela, who also rides with us, would have anyone’s balls who said a girl couldn’t keep up.” She laughed, and there was that zing to my dick again. This time, I hadn’t even touched her. What the hell was that?
9
FINN
The first oneto the park, I took my bike off the back of my truck and checked it over. I was excited to ride. But I was also excited to see her. Because she was cool and we were friends. At least that’s what I told myself.
Dan and Carrie pulled into the lot five minutes later. “Hey, man, you're eager.”
“Yeah, Tulip Festival month feels like the longest month of the year with no time to bike.” I settled into my familiar routine of stretching out my legs and shoulders.
The rest of the group arrived one or two at a time. Most of us had grown up together or met at local races back in high school.
“Man, check her out,” one of the guys said.
I turned from talking with Dan to see Emily walking a nice little carbon fiber bike with her. No surprise. She looked good with a bike. She’d pulled her hair back again, and her emerald eyes were shining, though her smile was tentative. Her pink cycling jersey was tight across her shoulders and loose as it came to her waist, hiding the way I knew it dipped in and flared out at her hips.
That bike was easily five grand or more. The bike, the car, and that hand-welded rack were all reminders that Emily was wealthy and off-limits for romance. We were bike buddies despite any ideas my dick had. I needed to focus on the resort I wanted to build and my family’s tulip farm. Rich, beautiful, sexy-with-a-bike goddesses were trouble for mortals like me.
“You made it! Great.” Carrie jumped forward. “You have water? Everything you need?” She was always making sure others were comfortable and welcome. We joked her name was short for caregiver.
“Yes.” Emily turned and motioned to the Camelback hydration pack nestled between her shoulders. I took a second to look at her ass before she spun back around. Still gorgeous.
“Everyone, this is Emily. Emily, this is well, a bunch of people.” Carrie swirled an arm above her head. “You remember Dan and Finn.”
Emily brightened as Dan walked over to her. “Yes, hey, Dan.” Her eyes met mine. “Hi, Finn.”
“Hey, Emily.” I waved and saw multiple pairs of male eyes taking in her long, toned legs in black spandex cycling shorts. She made those look good.
Carrie introduced her to the others as Angela walked up with her bike, giving a subtle shoulder brush to my friend Alex. “Hey, bro. Did you get Mom a Mother’s Day card for tomorrow, or did your man-brain have a blip again?”
“Yes, I did.” Alex puffed out his chest at his sister and stretched his arms out, getting loose for the ride. “But, uh, thanks for the reminder. I don’t want to repeat that epic fail.”
