by Rae, Kelsie
I roll my tongue against the roof of my mouth to make the sound of a drumstick hitting a drum, and his eyes crinkle in amusement.
“Why, thank you.” He clears his throat and drops his voice low as if he’s the announcer over a concert hall. “The Alcatraz Prison. Boom. Mic drop.”
My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard as I razz, “Did you just say, ‘mic drop?’”
“Sure did, Swayze Girl. And I don’t regret a thing.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“Nope. That’s the entire point of spontaneity, isn’t it? Do it without regret?”
Peeking up at him, I admit, “I guess you’re right.”
“Good. So, I think we can both agree that the one goal for this trip is to have no regrets by the end of it. What do you think?”
“Yeah. I think I like that idea.”
He pumps his fist into the air before giving me a wink. “The brilliant Mr. Wright strikes again.”
I snort. “Sure he does.”
* * *
The best part about flying without luggage is being able to walk right out of the airport without stopping at baggage claim, and that’s exactly what we do.
“So, should we find a hotel, or save that for later and get right to the good stuff?” he asks as we stand on the curb outside with his Uber app open on his phone.
“Let’s get right to the good stuff.”
With his eyes alight with mischief, he lifts his chin in acknowledgment. “I like the way you think. So, what’s first? The prison? Golden Gate? Food?”
“Hmmm…” I hum, considering the options. “Surprise me.”
“Done.”
His hands type furiously against his cell, and a few minutes later, a small sedan pulls up, and we hop inside.
On the way to––I have no idea where we’re going––I rest my head against Anthony’s shoulder and look outside to see the sun hanging low in the sky, painting a brilliant orange across the horizon that makes me wish I could capture the moment forever. Which is laughable considering we’re in a stranger’s car that smells slightly like old fish. But it doesn’t matter. Because I’ve got Anthony’s hand resting on my thigh, his scent wrapping around me like a warm blanket, and the view of a city peeking through the window. We could pull over and stay right here for the next two days, and you wouldn’t hear me complain at all.
When we pull up to a hotel, I scratch my temple. “But I thought––”
“Be back in five.” Brushing his lips against my temple, he slides out of the car then grabs my duffle along with his. “Do you have your wallet, or is it in your bag?”
I unzip the front pocket and grab my cash and driver’s license. “I have it now.”
“Perfect.” He disappears then returns ten minutes later with a set of hotel keys and offers one to me.
Then we’re off. Again. When I see the sign of the shop as the driver hugs the curb and slows down, a fresh wave of excitement tugs at me.
“Bikes?” I turn to Anthony and raise my eyebrows.
“Yup.” He doesn’t say anything else before thanking the Uber driver and helping me out of the car.
“Sorry we had to stop at the hotel first, but I didn’t want you to have to carry your duffle bag everywhere.”
I tap the side of my head. “You’re a thinker.”
“I have good ideas on occasion,” he quips.
“Yes. Yes, you do.”
He grabs my hand then tugs me into the little shop. After I sign a few waivers and show my ID, the employee gets us a set of bikes and a pair of helmets. Bouncing up and down, a fresh wave of adrenaline rolling over me, I admit to Anthony, “I haven’t ridden a bike in years.”
With a gentleness I’m still getting used to, he puts the helmet on my head and snaps the clip beneath my chin. Once it’s in place, he plants a quick peck against my lips that makes my girly parts swoon.
“Neither have I, so this’ll be interesting.”
Throwing my leg over the seat and mounting it, I quip, “What’s the saying? It’s like riding a bike? That’s gotta mean it’ll come back to us, right?”
“I hope so, or we’re in for a long night.” The sarcasm is thick in his voice.
Rolling my eyes, I push off from the sidewalk, and the front tire wobbles, nearly making me face-plant within seconds. As soon as I catch my balance, we both burst out laughing. “Mr. Wright strikes again. We’re in for a looong night.”
Thankfully, we get the hang of it pretty quickly and start pedaling up and down the rolling hills. I find myself huffing and puffing with the stark reminder that I’m way out of shape.
“Will these hills ever stop?” I grunt as Anthony pedals in front of me up the latest hill of death with ease.
“Come on, Slow Poke! We’re almost there!”
“Where?” I whine.
“You’ll see!”
Digging deep, my muscles burning and my gaze on the asphalt, I push through and reach the top as euphoria replaces my exhaustion. I thrust my fist in the air as my feet touch the ground next to Anthony’s stopped position at the peak of what felt like freaking Everest.
“Yes! I did it! Now please excuse me while I have a heart attack.”
Anthony swings his leg over the side of his bike and comes over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist as I catch my breath and look toward the sky. His fingers brush the column of my throat before unclipping the strap on my helmet and hanging it on the handlebar of my bike. The innocent touch sends tingles racing over me, and a set of goosebumps pebble across my skin.
“The hard part is over. Now you get to enjoy the view.” Tilting his head to the side, I follow his gaze and see the most beautiful sunset being mirrored over the bay with the Golden Gate Bridge framed in the center. It’s as if the clouds were created to make this moment spectacular. They stretch across the sky to break up the light and add new layers of pinks and oranges to the overall scene as the sun melts into the horizon. My mouth opens on a gasp.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, my voice getting lost in the wind. “It’s gorgeous.”
“It really is.”
“How the hell did you plan this so perfectly?”
Looking down at me, he smirks. “That’s the best part about not having plans, Sway. When they fall into place regardless, they make the moment that much more memorable.”
I beam back at him. “Not bad, Anthony. Not bad at all.”
“So, would it be too much if I kissed you right now?” he presses.
“If I said yes, would you listen?” I razz.
Leaning forward, he gives me an Eskimo kiss, brushing our noses back and forth, and that brings my smile back full-force while teasing the crap out of me. He’s so damn tempting. I’m seconds away from grabbing his damn T-shirt and tugging his mouth to mine when he smiles broadly.
“Probably not,” he murmurs before he leans a little closer and closes the distance between us. I sigh as soon as his lips brush against mine. My fingers rub against the hem of his shirt before grazing his back and linking together behind his waist. He surprises me by ending the kiss on the sweet side then rests his chin on the top of my head, looking out at the painted scene surrounding us. A light breeze tickles my cheeks, and I lean my head against his warm chest to steal some of his heat as he pulls me closer until our fronts are plastered together. I breathe in deep, soaking in the moment like a dry sponge because I know without a doubt that I’ll never forget it. The thought is bittersweet because it’ll always be one of my favorites, but it’ll also most likely be replaced for Anthony with memories of his future wife.
Why does that bother me so much?
After a few minutes of silence, the sky grows darker, and he drops a kiss on the top of my head. “You ready to get going?”
I nod even though I’m not ready. I want to stay here forever.
“Good. ‘Cause we don’t want to get hit by a car as we bike across the bridge.”
“What bridge?” It’s a stupid question. I already know
the answer, but my legs are still burning from the hills, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it the rest of the way.
With a laugh, he explains, “The Golden Gate Bridge, smartass. Come on. Most of it’s downhill from here on out, so we’ll be fine.”
“How do you know?” I whine, surprising myself as I give him a glimpse of my insecurities.
“Because I’m always right,” he teases, reaching for my helmet and putting it back on my messy, pink-colored head. “Let’s do this.”
* * *
Of course, he’s right because the bastard is always right. The majority of the ride is downhill until we reach the bridge and start pedaling across it. With even breathing, I’m finally able to look up and appreciate the city’s skyline, the lush green shrubbery peppered throughout, and the tight tush on Anthony’s backside as he leads the way across the famous tourist attraction.
Stopping in the center of the bridge, we get off our bikes and take a shameless selfie. One with us smiling, another while making funny faces, and a final one with him kissing my cheek as I look at the camera with a dopey grin on my face.
Dammit. I think this will also be added to the memory box. Soon, he’s going to take up all of the space, then I won’t know what to do with myself when he’s gone, and all I’m left with are the pictures on my phone.
Once we’ve dropped off our bikes at the shop on the opposite side of the bridge, yet owned by the same company, we walk along Fisherman’s Wharf with our interlaced hands swinging between us. The smell of fish hangs in the air as we stop by a little restaurant right on the pier.
“Ready to eat?” Anthony suggests, eyeing the old building with open curiosity.
“Starving,” I admit.
With a smile, he opens the door and guides me inside with his hand on the small of my back, the touch feeling more intimate than sex. Once we’re seated at a little table with a gorgeous view of the water, the waiter gives us our menus, and I open it to choose my order when Anthony stops me.
“Sway, are you allergic to anything?”
I look up at him with my brows pinched. “No?”
“Wanna keep the whole spontaneous thing alive?”
Weighing my options for a split second, I grin. “Definitely.”
Anthony lifts his hand and waves the waiter over. “Surprise us. We’ll take two appetizers, two of your favorite meals, and two desserts. Whatever you’d recommend.”
The waiter, Ian, rubs his chin. “No preferences?”
“Nope,” Anthony replies. “Surprise us.”
With a nod, Ian turns on his heel and puts our orders in. Twenty minutes later, we’re gifted with an array of food I never would’ve ordered in a million years, but it tastes amazing.
Anthony lifts his fork in my direction and leans across the table to give me a bite. As my lips wrap around the utensil, his gaze heats. However, when I add a low moan for good measure, he shakes his head. “Subtle, Swayze Girl. Really subtle.”
Batting my lashes, I give him an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.”
Adjusting himself below the table, I snort. “Never knew shellfish got you going, Anthony.”
He rests his elbows on the table and narrows his eyes. “Hey, it’s seafood. Isn’t that an aphrodisiac?”
“Oysters are, but I don’t think lobster counts,” I tease.
“And what gets you going?” he probes, turning the tables.
I suck my lips between my teeth as a blush spreads across my cheeks.
Stupid light complexion.
Let’s see…sexy men holding cats? Yeah, that does it for me. Men who fly me across the country on a spur-of-the-moment trip? Yup, that’ll do it for me too. How ‘bout tight asses that are right in my line of sight for an hour while biking?
Ding, ding, ding. We have another winner.
I shrug and take a bite of my salmon, ignoring his question as I let the fish melt in my mouth.
“Not so funny now, huh?” His mouth is quirked on one side before he asks, “Alright, let’s try this. What are your major turn-offs instead of ons?”
“Hmmm….” I take another bite of salmon while mulling over his question. “People who don’t use their blinkers.”
He laughs dryly. “Seriously?”
“Yes! It drives me insane!” I reiterate adamantly, my anger spiking at the thought.
“Anything else?”
I shrug and take a sip of my white wine, feeling his eyes glued to me the entire time as if I’m an abstract painting he’s fascinated with.
After I swallow the tart beverage, he adds, “You missed one.”
“And what’s that?”
“Relationships.” I groan, but he presses forward. “For real, though. I know relationships are the ultimate turn off for you, but you’ve never really explained why.”
“No reason,” I lie, studying the cloth napkin in my lap.
“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit on that one. You can tell me, Sway. Not a big deal.”
He has no idea.
When I remain silent, he tries a different tactic. “Were you always like this? Have you ever wanted a relationship? Ever been in one? I know you’re unconventional and all that, but I mean….” His voice trails off to let me fill in the blanks, and I grapple for any topic that’ll lead us down a different path than the one he’s picked for us.
“Unconventional?”
With a wave of his hand, he says, “You know what I mean. The pink hair and the lackadaisical outlook on life and normal expectations that every other person in the world feels they need to reach. You’re different. You don’t care what others think, Sway. I love that about you. Now, stop trying to change the subject and answer the question.”
My heart stalls in my chest at the word love, but I brush it aside, attempting to turn the stupid organ to stone before it gets us both in trouble.
“I’ve dated,” I hedge.
“That’s not an answer.”
“What do you want from me, Anthony?” I sigh, the food not holding quite the same flavor it once had.
“I want you to open up to me.”
“I have opened up to you.”
“You have,” he admits. “But only about the things you want to open up to me about. We spend almost every day together. We’re friends. Hell, we’re sleeping together, and I know just how to make you scream.” My cheeks burn at the memories, and I look around to see if anyone heard him. Thankfully, the people at the next table are still chatting back and forth, completely oblivious to our conversation, and I let out a sigh of relief as Anthony continues.
“But there are certain subjects I know not to broach because they make you clam up, and I guess I want to know the why behind it. Not because I want to change your opinion, but because I want to get to know you. Every piece of you. Including the stuff you’d prefer to keep in the dark.”
“Why?” I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion.
His deep voice pulls my gaze up to meet him. “I like you, Swayze Girl. I know we won’t go down the relationship road because you’re against it, but it doesn’t change the fact that I like you, and that I want to get to know you in every way that you’ll let me. So, if that means I need to keep asking the hard questions in hopes you’ll choose to open up to me one day, then I will.”
He likes me. Why does this feel like it’s getting harder? Like it’s slowly slipping into a territory I promised myself I’d never venture into? It’s as if I blinked and found myself there even though I tried to fight it. I push the thought aside, knowing I can’t handle addressing it right now because if I do, I’ll be forced to make a decision I’m not ready to make.
With shaky hands, I reach for my wine glass and take a big gulp to wash my mouth out and maybe moisten my parched throat too.
“Just because you’re ready to ask the hard questions doesn’t mean I’m ready to answer them. And if you’re not okay with that then….”
Then
what? I don’t know anymore.
“Then I’ll be ready for the day that you are ready,” he returns. Reaching over, he places his warm hand on top of mine as it rests against the cool tabletop. “Look. The relationship I was in? We didn’t ask the hard questions. We didn’t ask any questions at all, and I can’t start something with someone else that’s destined to wind down the same path. I want to learn from the mistakes I’ve made to prevent them from happening again, and that’s all I’m trying to do right now.”
“But we’re not in a relationship,” I counter.
“You’re right. But we are friends, and I haven’t had a lot of those either because I never cared to. Until now. I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”
As I look up at him, I find his eyes shining with open vulnerability, and an image of Anthony with Jasper in his arms comes to mind. The two of them make quite the pair, and just like Jasper slowly warmed up to him, I find myself doing the same.
Licking my lips, I admit, “Me neither.”
“Good. And since you’re not ready to answer those hard questions, I’ll change the subject to dogs. Do they really have a vendetta against cats? Because if I have to pick sides….”
A dry laugh bursts out of me, shocking me to my core with how easy it is to go from somber and defeated to easy and light when I’m around Anthony who brings more to the table than any other man I’ve ever met.
And it’s scary as hell.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Anthony
“I’m stuffed.” Sway pats her stomach as we walk down the street after an amazing meal that could’ve ended in disaster but wound up being pretty close to perfect.
“Me too. Do you want to call it a night and go back to the hotel so we can get up early?”
Raising her hand, she stifles a yawn before grinning at me, but she doesn’t say a word.