Austin: Any chance you can sneak out of work early?
I glance down at my calendar. Call me old fashioned, but I prefer to have everything written out versus on my phone or computer. When things crash, I still have my trusty paper calendar. There’s really not much for me to do with Mrs. Van der Boor in Paris getting ready for Fashion Week. I resist the urge to pout for not being invited to go. That’s okay, I tell myself. I just need to pay my dues a little longer.
I should make up some excuse and tell him no. That would be the smart thing to do, but I haven’t been making smart decisions since I signed the contract to do this experiment. Ultimately, curiosity wins out.
Me: I might be able to. Why? What’s up?
Austin: It’s a surprise. Think you can be home by 3?
Me: Yeah.
Austin: See you then gorgeous.
Stupid butterflies. There’s a swarm taking flight in my stomach. Be it from the anticipation of what we might be doing, or his nickname for me, they’re a fluttering mass in my center. I want to pluck the wings off of each and every one of them. I don’t want to feel giddy at spending the afternoon with him. I don’t want to be excited he’s planned something for us. I don’t want to look at the clock a million times, anxious to leave. But I am, and that’s a problem.
I did everything to try to pass the time. I even tried texting Janey, but they all went unanswered. She’s probably still mad about this weekend. I know she’s seen I’ve messaged her since her phone is always attached to her, so I’m sure she’s ignoring me. The thought makes me shake my head. It’s so petty, but that’s just how she is sometimes. Some probably wonder why I’m friends with her, but we all have our flaws. She’s always been there for me, so I’m willing to take the bad with the good for the sake of our friendship. She’s all I have, and after this experiment is over, I know I’ll need her more than ever to help me pick up the pieces.
With nothing left to do, I pack up and leave work earlier than intended. At two o’clock, I’m walking into the elevator of our apartment anxious to see what Austin has up his sleeve. After I enter through the front door, I’m startled by a female voice. My movements come to a crashing halt when I recognize the voice.
Chloe.
The blood in my veins turns to ice. What the hell is she doing here? Not seeing them in the living room or kitchen, I round the corner and find both of them standing in the bedroom.
Our bedroom.
Her slimy hand is resting on Austin’s arm as they laugh about something. They’re close—a little too close—to each other. The way she looks up at him adoringly has me tensing. Did Austin lie to me? Were they more serious than he led on? Because with the way she bats her eyelashes in a sickening way and has her gaze locked on him longingly, it appears to be more there.
“I miss you,” she coos as she trails a hand down his chest. “Ever since you got married, I hardly see you.”
Austin opens his mouth to reply and I stop breathing, both afraid and anxious to hear what he’ll say. At that moment, he turns his head in my direction, finally noticing me standing there watching their private exchange. His face shows surprise, but only for half a second before it’s covered by a smile. He steps away from her, and that bothers me because he wasn’t making any attempt to distance himself until he saw me.
“Hey, gorgeous, I wasn’t expecting you home so early.” He approaches me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me in. It’s with great effort that I don’t push him away. To keep from making a scene in front of Chloe and the cameras, I let him welcome me home in an embrace and a kiss despite wanting nothing more than to kick him in the balls.
“Yeah, I couldn’t wait any longer for this surprise, so I decided to come home.” Turning my attention to Chloe, I say, “Hi, Chloe. Did you decide to take me up on my offer to stop by for wine?” As much as I tried to sound casual, I know I failed miserably. The jealousy and suspicion is oozing off of me, creating a thick, green fog that blankets all of us. Austin, never one to miss a beat, tightens his hold around me.
After a pause, she responds, “Oh, no.” Her phony laugh pierces my eardrums, making me cringe. “I actually hadn’t planned on seeing you at all this visit.” The catty way she says this isn’t lost on me.
“Chloe was just stopping by to see how we were settled in and if we were happy with our place.” He moves his focus from her down to me, giving me a tight-lipped smile.
“Oh,” is all I say. I want to call him a liar. He’s making it seem like she’s here on business, but I heard what she said, and that was anything but professional. With his stiff features and rigid body, I’d venture to say he’s unsure of how much I overheard, making him nervous. After biting a hole in my lip to keep from voicing all of this out loud, I ask the only question that comes to mind that isn’t completely bitchy. “Does she do that with all her clients?”
“Only my special ones,” she chimes in. “Well, I better get going. I’ll chat with you later, Austin.” He nods in her direction before she walks out and closes the door behind her. Once she’s gone, I pull away from him.
Picking up on my frosty attitude, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Seriously?” He cannot be that dense. “I come home unexpectedly to find your ex here in our apartment—in our bedroom no less—with her hands all over you.”
He rolls his eyes, seemingly tired of this conversation already. It pisses me off even more. “She’s not my ex, and she did not have her hands all over me. Besides, she came over unannounced. I didn’t even know she was stopping by.”
“Then what’s all of this I miss you shit?” His eyes flash with surprise, and maybe a bit of panic. It fuels my agitation. “Oh yeah, I heard that. How often did you guys hang out before we met?” My heart beats wildly the more I get worked up.
“It’s not like that, I promise.” His eyes are pleading as he focuses on me, willing me to take his word for it. “I told you before. we went on one date. I have no control over what she says or what she does.”
“You didn’t look too eager to separate yourself from her until you noticed me. In fact, you looked guilty even.”
He studies me for a beat before his face transforms. He arches an eyebrow while a smug expression takes over. “You’re jealous,” he states with mirth in his tone. It’s not a question, but a statement.
“What?” I scoff. “No!”
“You definitely are.” He walks toward me, matching each step I take backward until I’m against the wall with nowhere to go. We’re standing toe to toe with him so close I can feel the heat coming off of his body, smell his cologne, and feel his breath against my face when he speaks. “Just admit it.” His tone is low and husky and for a split second, I forget what we were talking about in the first place.
“I’ll do no such thing. Why would I be jealous of her?” I try to play it cool, but even I hear the rise in the pitch of my voice.
“That’s a good question because since you came into my life I only have eyes for you.” I’m about to roll my eyes when he inches closer, causing my breath to hitch. “I couldn’t give two shits if she misses me or not. She’s nothing to me. She asked to take a look around, and I let her. I know it looks bad, but I swear to you there was nothing going on. I didn’t even realize she was touching me. My head’s so far in the clouds with thoughts of you that everything else is a blur. Trust me when I say you’re the only thing on my mind. Not her or anyone else, just you.” He leans in even closer. I tilt up to meet his lips and close my eyes, waiting for the moment our mouths connect, but it never comes. He moves to my jaw, still not touching, just breathing down my neck as he travels to my collarbone. The hot air sends goose bumps down my arm and makes me squirm with anticipation. I begin to pant, wanting nothing more than for him to devour me.
“Now,” he says into my ear. “Go get some jeans, a T-shirt, a light jacket, and tennis shoes on so we can leave. We still have plans.”
My only clue he’s left is the absence of his body heat
against me. I’m barely able to peel open my eyes. When I do, they’re hazy, unable to focus on anything. Holy shit, that was intense. How can he have that effect on me without even touching me? On wobbly legs, I make my way to the bedroom and do as requested. Hopefully, the time it takes to get dressed will be enough to smother the fire in my stomach and bring back my rational thinking.
“Whose is that?” I ask once we’re outside and Austin walks up to a motorcycle parked at the curb.
“It’s mine.”
“I never knew you rode.” I approach the bike cautiously. Honesty, just looking at it makes me nervous. This is basically a death machine. If we get hit, there’s nothing to protect us, to save us. It’d be like having death between my legs. I may not have had anything between them in a while, but I don’t want to break the dry spell with that thing.
“I’ve had Harley for a few years now.” He straps on his helmet. If I thought he couldn’t look any hotter, I was mistaken. As much as I don’t want to get on this thing, I’d happily watch him all day long.
“Harley?” He’s such a boy, naming his toys.
He shrugs. “It’s not real original given it’s a Harley Davidson, but it just felt wrong not to name her.” I laugh quietly to myself and shake my head. “Here you go, this is yours.” He holds out a second helmet to me.
“Uh, no thanks.” I hold my hand up in rejection.
“Are you scared, gorgeous?” he taunts.
“Yeah, I am. There’s no way you’re getting me on that thing.”
“Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure? I promise we’ll be safe. I’ll even make sure we stay under a hundred miles per hour.” I feel the color drain from my face as my expression falls, causing him to chuckle. “I’m kidding. Do you trust me?” he asks with an outstretched hand.
I look down at it and notice it’s large, strong, and firm. For whatever reason, I know he’ll do everything in his power to keep me out of harm’s way. I wish I could say the same. Without answering, I take his hand and let him pull me closer.
“Let me help you with this.” He places the helmet gently on my head before fastening it under my chin.
“Did the Go-Pro come standard?” I joke about the small camera that’s attached to the front of the bike.
“Production,” is all he says, but I know what he means. The production crew made him do it. Turning away from me, he holds onto the handlebars and swings one jean clad leg over the bike before situating himself on the seat. “Okay, now hold onto my shoulder for balance and swing your leg over like I did. You see those pegs right there?” he asks as he points to a metal rung on the backside of it. I nod my head. “Put your feet on those once you’re on.” I follow his directions and get on. “Now,” he says as he grabs my arms, “hang on tight.” He wraps them around his trim waist where my hands rest on his rock hard abs. After giving my hands a squeeze, he lets go and fires up the beast.
A beast is really the only way I can describe this thing. The loud roar makes my heart beat faster and my palms sweaty. It vibrates enough to knock me right off. I tighten my grip around Austin to feel more grounded even though I know that’s a lost cause. My blood pressure is spiking and my breaths are coming in short bursts. I might have a panic attack. It feels like forever before he pulls up the kickstand and slowly pulls us out into traffic. My eyes squeeze shut and I hold my breath as we gain speed.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
This mantra repeats over and over in my head. Several minutes go by before I’m brave enough to take a peek. The sight in front of me starts my internal panic all over again.
True to Austin’s word, he doesn’t do anything erratic or dangerous. He drives us at a safe speed with a reasonable amount of distance between us and the next car. His turns are smooth as are his stops. Before long, I can’t feel my heart pounding against my ribs anymore and I’m able to relax. Austin must notice my change in demeanor because he says, “Thanks, I was losing circulation.” There’s laughter in his voice letting me know he’s teasing.
Now that the blood flow is returning to my hands, I realize what a death grip I had on him. “Sorry.”
“It’s all good. You hold me as tight as you need to.”
Conversation isn’t exactly easy, so we spend most of our time in silence, which is perfectly fine with me. Our journey to where, I don’t know, is therapeutic in a way. All the headache and chaos of the city and the cameras everywhere vanishes as he drives us out to the countryside. It’s freeing. With the wind in my face, the constant hum of Harley, and my body pressed firmly against his back, all the stress I’ve been feeling since the wedding gets lost in the breeze.
Before long, we’re slowing down, making a turn here and a turn there. Finally, he pulls off into a grassy, wooded area and shuts the bike off. A dull ringing sounds in my ears as he climbs off and assists me. My legs are a little numb from being rattled and sitting in one position for so long, so I shake them out trying to get the feeling back in them.
“How’d you like it?” The big smile on his face does me in. He looks so carefree. If I wasn’t having fun before, I certainly would be with a look like that.
“I actually loved it,” I admit.
“Good.” He helps me with my helmet and hangs it from the handlebar before leaning in and giving me a kiss. “So, I had this nice little picnic planned out, but forgot a blanket.” I’m about to tell him it doesn’t bother me to sit on the ground when I realize it’s actually a muddy mess. It looks like it just rained here and the ground is soggy and gross. “But that’s okay because I’m good at improvising.” He winks at me before turning around to a saddlebag attached to the side of the bike.
Once he turns back around, I notice two sandwiches in plastic bags, a bag of grapes, chips, and two bottles of water. “It’s not gourmet, but I thought it’d be nice to get out of the city for a bit.”
He warms my heart. The smallest things can have the biggest impact at times. And something so minor as a sandwich is what’s imbedding him into my heart. “It’s perfect.”
“We’ll have to eat on the bike.”
I look at Harley, look at Austin, then look back at the bike again. “And how do you suggest we do that?”
“I’ll sit toward the back, you sit facing me in the front.” He sits back on it with all the food clutched to his chest and, again, holds his hand out to me. Like always, I do as he says.
There’s only one problem with this position. “I have nowhere to put my feet.”
Without uttering a word, he stacks everything carefully between us, grabs me by the back of my knees, and pulls my legs up so they’re resting on top of his thighs and wrap around his back. This has gone from innocent to intimate in two seconds flat. Staring into his eyes, I know he notices the difference too. I’m the first to break eye contact. Call me chicken shit, but I can’t handle the intensity right now.
He hands me some of the food and we begin to eat in a peaceful silence, the only noise coming from the birds and other critters hidden in the woods.
“How was work today?” he asks.
“Boring. My boss is in Paris, so I didn’t have much to do. What about you?”
“I did a little work from home, checked in with a franchise owner, nothing too interesting.”
“Seems like we both needed this then,” I say around a mouthful of food.
We finish our food quietly, enjoying the presence of each other. “Tell me where your head is at.”
My eyebrows furrow slightly. “What do you mean?” A slight sense of dread comes over me. I don’t want him to start digging and asking me a bunch of questions that I won’t answer.
“Us. How are you feeling about us?”
Dammit, I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t. But I know if I don’t, he’ll assume the worst or it’ll start a fight. Four more weeks. I repeat this a few times before I respond. “As it stands now, I like you. You’re sweet, attentive, you make me laugh, and you’re fun to be around.” His smile grows w
ith each compliment. “What about you?” I’m not sure if I want him to tell me he’s not really into me, or that he could see us spending forever together.
He starts drawing small circles on the inside of my leg that is still wrapped around him. It’s both distracting and exhilarating, making me want more. “After my parents died and I grew up a little, I promised I’d always be upfront with my feelings. I’ve always been a very open person and make sure everyone knows where my heart is in every situation. I didn’t get that chance with my family, and I’ll forever regret it. I’ve tried to show you with actions, but I want to tell you with words.”
He pauses to take hold of my hands. “It’s crazy since we’ve only known each other a month, but I’ve never felt this way before. No woman has ever had me so captivated, wanting to give my whole self to them, but I do with you. I want to be a part of your future.”
His words take my breath away. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of hearing from a man, and for today, I’m going to pretend it’s okay. That this is going to work out in my favor and we’ll be able to ride off together in the sunset.
Without thinking, I close the distance between us and kiss him. It starts off slow, but quickly picks up tempo. It’s a role reversal of sorts. It’s my turn to show him with actions how I feel. And right now, I feel wanted, cherished.
Loved.
I know we’re not there yet, but it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to that emotion and I want to hold on to it for dear life before it’s ripped away by reality.
Austin grips my ass and pulls me against him so my most sensitive area is in direct contact with his. I gasp from the initial shock of the movement, but it’s swallowed up by Austin’s mouth on mine. He slides my jacket off of my shoulders, never breaking contact. When it’s off, he pulls away.
“Don’t want to give America a show.” He drapes my jacket over the camera that’s mounted to the front of the bike.
Hopeless Vows Page 10