Page 61 of Battered Moves

With the bike leaning there securely, I sit down in the sand next to it, and Liv does too, putting her helmet in the sand, her finger tracing circles in the grainy surface. I take a deep breath, wanting to ask about her earlier comment.

“You mentioned before that part of my birthday present was you getting some gear. What’s the other part?” I ask, wanting to show interest after my earlier fuckup.

“Oh, it was nothing really,” she says, shrugging. “Just a silly idea, something funny. Don’t worry about it.”

“Now you’ve got me curious. What is it?” I ask.

Liv hesitates for a moment before reaching into her leather jacket and pulling out a small box.

“Okay, but it’s not a big deal. I got you a custom-made keychain for your bike keys,” she says, biting her lip as she hands me the box.

I eagerly open it and find a silver keychain with a rectangle charm that reads ‘Drive home safe to me.’ I’m touched by her thoughtfulness.

“Liv, that’s awesome. Thank you so much,” I say, leaning in to give her a kiss, but she stops me, her eyes shining with amusement.

“Flip it over,” she says.

When I turn the charm, I can’t believe what I see. The contours of the picture I took of Liv’s cleavage a few weeks ago are engraved into the silver, and it looks incredibly sexy. I burst out laughing, and Liv joins in too.

“Consider it a little reminder to drive safely because of what waits for you at home,” she says, blushing.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” I ask, cupping her cheek. She meets my gaze, her expression tender.

“You’re pretty amazing too,” she replies, and I stroke my thumb over her bottom lip.

“Were those all of my presents?” I ask, my voice low and husky. Liv laughs, her eyes dancing.

“Yes, do you want something else?” she asks, and I pull her close, feeling the heat of her body against mine.

“You,” I say simply. “I just want to be with you, right here, right now.”

She grins at me, her arms wrapping around my neck. “That, my dear Chase, I can definitely give you,” she says before kissing my lips.

I’m gentle with her, wanting to convey how much she means to me. Her interest in me and what’s important to me is deeply meaningful. She could have taken the easy road with her gifts, given that we’re both dancers, and it would’ve been effortless to connect over our shared passion. Of course, we did bond over that. However, her willingness to go the extra mile, to learn about my hobbies, purchase gear, and have the courage to try something new, shows me what kind of person she is. She makes me feel special, just as she does with the other guys. I thought it would be difficult to share her time, but it isn’t. She never makes it feel like we’re sharing anything because she’s always present in the moment, making everyone feel important. Having the ability to be so open and loving even after all she’s been through is amazing. I think about how she shared her trauma with us, and how it would only be fair to give her the same trust in return, so I ease away from the kiss.

“The twins told you that we grew up in foster care,” I say, and I can see her mind reeling with the sudden topic change, but she nods.

“So did Jaxon,” she says.

It seems like the guys have already opened up much more to her than I have.It’s time for me to catch up.

“I got there late. Jaxon and the twins spent their whole childhood with the family, but I got there when I was twelve,” I explain, and Liv tilts her head slightly, listening intently to me.

“My parents were killed in a robbery,” I continue, and her eyes fill with sadness. “It was on my twelfth birthday.” I look down at the ground, and Liv takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “I wanted to celebrate in a big way, so we went to a football game before getting dinner at a restaurant we liked. When we were walking home, two men with guns came at us. My dad didn’t want to give them anything, but my mom pleaded with him, so they gave them his money and her purse. The men were obviously on drugs, and instead of just letting us go, they shot them in front of me.”

As I speak, I see something like shock and recognition flicker in Liv’s eyes.Yes, gorgeous, we know the same pain.I feel a sense of comfort in knowing that she understands what I’ve been through. She strokes my hand with hers, looking sad for me, but there’s no pity. I decide to test a theory.

“And that’s why I don’t like the Batman movies,” I say, deadpan, and she looks at me with wide eyes before bursting out laughing, slapping her hand over her mouth in shock.

“Oh my god, I’m going to hell for laughing at this,” she mutters, still giggling. “I’m so sorry.” I can’t help but break into a smile, my serious demeanor crumbling.

“You know, I’ve told that joke to so many people, and they all just give me pitying looks, but you actually laughed,” I say, feeling a sense of relief.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate,” she says with a wince.

“No, it’s perfect,” I assure her. “I pity myself enough. I need someone with a dark sense of humor who can help me find light in the darkness.”

“I would love to be that for you,” she says with a smile.

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