by S. Ann Cole
The man widened his eyes and gazed at me in awe. “Ya’ gotta be kidding me. You’re truly not attracted to Mr. No-Girl-Can-Resist-This-Smile? Damn.” He straightened up from his bike and rubbed his hands together while licking his lips. Then he licked the tip of his forefingers and smoothed them over his brows. “Wow. Then that means I can —” he stopped short when Lovello shot him a death-glare and he held up his hands in defeat.
Lovello peered down at me, seeing that a smile now resided on my face. He removed a hand from his pockets, but only to point at the men one by one. “Axia, this Ben, Tiger, Max, Leon, Tyler, Nick, Ferron, and you know my brother, Natalio.”
Tiger was the burly, tattooed one who’d groaned about settling for third place, and Ferron was the one who’d given me the laugh of the day. I shook all their hands, and, as expected, each man’s eyes widened at the firmness of my handshakes. I tried to ignore the annoying fact that Lovello no longer held me around the waist while he introduced me, nor did he hold my hand when he walked with me.
“Need a beer, Axia?” Natalio ask as he went towards a wide steel drum of ice and beverages.
“No. I don’t drink. A cranberry juice if you have it. White.”
Natalio glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at me. Damn, I can imagine women swooning for him just by that eyebrow thing alone. How was it even possible to arch your brow like that? “Pregnant?” he asked, then darted his eyes to Lovello in question.
“No. I just don’t drink anything with alcohol.”
Natalio shrugged and dipped his hand into the drum bringing up a bottle of cranberry juice and handing it to me. Lovello frowned. “You serious?”
“What?” I asked, twisting the cork of the bottle.
“You don’t drink alcohol at all?”
“No. Alcohol weakens the flesh and distorts the mind. And once you’re inebriated, you lose all sense of control. I don’t want anything messing with my train of thought. I like to be in control of my body, my thoughts and my actions.”
And Pretty Boy Nelson was everything analogous to the effects of alcohol.
When I was around him I seemed to have no control over my body, thoughts or actions. He weakened and distorted me just the same. So I might as well ban myself from him, too.
Lovello shook his head at me as he took a beer from Natalio. “Jeez, Axia. Live a little.”
Before I could answer, Tiger whistled and bellowed, “Ass and boobs delivered! Let the day begin! Yeahhh!”
I followed his gaze to see two BMW convertibles, tops down, bouncing with music, and had scantily dressed girls overflowing from them. Each car had about eight girls gyrating on top of the seats and doors. Don’t ask me how they got that done.
The convertibles braked up beside Lovello’s car and the girls poured out screaming and dancing, drawing the attention of everyone around the area. The arena music got noticeably louder as the girls giggled and rushed over to where we were. It was then that I realized that these girls were for this group. I carefully stepped aside to give the girls way as they hurled themselves onto the guys and their bikes.
A dainty brunette danced up to Lovello and ran her hand across his chest, slowly scraping her teeth over her pouty lip. “Nice to see you again, Nelson. Later? Terr wants to join this time. She didn’t believe me when I told her your size.”
When Lovello scrunched his face and scratched his forehead as if trying to remember something, she smacked his chest. “It’s Kadie!” Her eyes rolled. “Your memory that bad?”
Lovello shrugged and looked at me over Pouty Brunette’s shoulder. He stepped around her and came to stand beside me, which made Pouty Brunette scowl and huff off.
“I don’t mind, you know,” I lied. “You don’t have to —”
“Shut up, Axia,” he clipped. And that I did. Because whatever else I was going to say would be a heap of prevarication.
A petite blonde arched herself rather provocatively on the back of Natalio’s bike, and trailed her fingers along his arm, biting her lip and peeking up at him coquettishly through her lashes. Natalio coolly peered down at her, took a swig of his beer, then picked up her hand off his arm and nudged with his elbow for her to get off his bike. “This body,” he drawled, dragging his hand sexily down his chest, “is off-limits.” He held up his other hand, tapping a finger with a ring against the beer bottle. I was pretty sure men didn’t wear engagement rings, so I had no idea what kind of ring that was.
Blondie quirked up her lips. “You’re still engaged?”
Natalio relaxed on his bike and swigged his beer. “Still?” He chuckled. “Yeah. Still. And I can’t wait to get married.”
Blondie rolled her eyes and stomped over to where Ferron already had two girls on his lap.
It was all quite amusing as I watched, highly entertained. I peeked up at Lovello to find him staring down at me with intense eyes, the streaks of blue within the gray bright and conspicuous in the daylight. Meeting his stare fully, I asked, “So this is what you guys do for fun on a boring Saturday, huh?”
Bringing his beer bottle to his lips, he opted out of answering me. We entered a staring contest for about a minute before he said, “Come. Let’s view the motorcycles on display over there.” He still didn’t touch me or hold my hand, and once again I tried to ignore how irritated that made me.
We walked over to a large white tent where a number of glistening bikes were parked on display, people milling about, jabbering and snapping pictures. Really, I couldn’t care less about motorcycles, but this was apparently another one of Lovello’s fascinations. And I didn’t mind being with him, around him, beside him, so it didn’t matter to me if we were viewing motorcycles or pigs muddling in a sty. As long as it was with him. It just irked me that he wouldn’t touch me anymore and that’s what I wanted the most. His touch.
We came to a stop next to a billet aluminum thing that looked more like a giant engine than a bike. It had two wheels at the front that were just a few inches apart, and the same at the back. Lovello swung his leg over the cool chunk of metal and grinned. “This is my latest toy. Natalio got it for my birthday.”
And the excited little boy that he was had to put it on display to show off. “Can you ride this … thing?”
He laughed. “Yeah. But it isn’t street legal.”
So it’s literally a toy then. Nodding and observing, I ran my fingers along the cool aluminum. “What kind of bike is it?”
“A Dodge Tomahawk. It’s the fastest motorcycle clocking out there. This baby can reach 60 miles per hour in 2.5 seconds. Max engine speed at 6000 rpm. 93 octane —” When he saw me hold up my hand with an I-have-no-idea-what-any-of-that-means expression, he stopped and laughed. “Sorry, I got carried away.”
“Hmm … so I see you’re not all about sports cars. Bikes, too. Or is it just anything fast and risky?”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “Just risky.”
We continued weaving through the bikes and I listened as Lovello talked animatedly about the garble of metals. Still hoping he would touch me, hold my hand like he’d done that last Friday, or wrap his arm around my waist, I found myself inching closer to him. But all my efforts were futile, because Lovello purposely avoided touching me, and I was beginning to crave him more and more. I never would’ve imagined how warm something as simple as holding hands could make a woman feel.
Being the woman who scoffed at girls who made a big deal of things like that, I was profoundly surprised at myself. Just like that, this beautiful man had made me forget myself. Made me forget the cynical, in-control woman who I thought I was. That hard person melted and disappeared whenever I was in his presence, and I became everything akin to those giddy girls in the romantic movies who giggle and grin a lot because that guy is near. It wasn’t something I wanted, I didn’t think so. But it felt easier to give in than to fight.
Things were never like this with Zane. Zane preferred me to be in control of everything. Normal couple gestures like hand-holding weren’t rea
lly important, because he craved pain, not tenderness. And I didn’t know what the hell I craved or wanted, or who the heck I even was. All I knew was that I was a girl drowning in love and would’ve done anything for her man.
Lovello drank the last of his beer and stretched his arm to toss the empty bottle in a nearby trash can, and I, unable to help myself, took advantage of his stance and slipped under his arm, stuffing my left hand into his back pocket. He stilled and stared down at me, his face impassive. I waited with mild anxiety to see what he would do. His arm had automatically gone around my shoulders when I’d tucked myself to his side, so I begged him with my eyes to let us stay that way.
“Unless I’m gay, friends don’t twine around each other like this in public,” he responded to my unspoken plea.
When he felt me starting to pull away, he tightened his arm on my shoulder and prompted me to continue walking. But that’s all he did. There were no arm squeezes, no thumb caressing my skin, no … nothing. Just his arm casually tossed around my shoulders and it was driving me nuts. How could I have gotten so addicted to his touch so quickly? Why did I like being with him this much? Close to him? This wasn’t like me, and I couldn’t understand what was happening, but I no longer had the energy to fight anymore. Especially when my body screamed for him so desperately.
As the day wore on, Lovello and I wandered about the field under the glaring sun, watching various motorcycle stunts, being introduced to people, chatting and laughing inanely and basically having fun — something that I haven’t done in a long while. At one point Lovello whispered in my ear, “See? I told you I’d make you smile. You’re too damn gorgeous when you laugh. You should do it more often.” And I’d blushed, yes blushed, for possibly the first time in my life.
Natalio came to seek us out some hours later, informing Lovello that it was time to race.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “You are gonna race?”
Lovello bobbed his head. “Yep. I promised you’d get to see me on a bike, didn’t I?”
“But you might —”
“This is our favorite part of the day, Axia,” Natalio cut in. “Don’t worry, Love’s an excellent rider — pun wasn’t intended,” he laughed with a wink. “If anything happens to him, I’ll let you stick needles in my chest. I promise.”
And those innocent little needles will be bent out of shape on that hard, impenetrable chest, for sure.
Lovello smirked as we tracked to the race road where the group were revving up their bikes. “You’re worried about me?”
Of freaking course! “Nope.” My tough face slipped on. “Not at all.”
“Good. Because second place prize is at a hundred thousand.”
“So you’re shooting for second place?” I asked. “Forgive me, but I thought you were a numero uno kinda guy.”
We stopped at the sidelines and he swung his leg over a fire-flame-designed black Yamaha motorbike that seemed to have been waiting for him there. “It’s pointless trying to shoot for first place. Everyone knows Natalio’s gonna win. I don’t even know why these numbskulls continue to wager. The race always turns out the same: Natalio first, me second, Tiger third, Ferron fourth and whoever else struggles for fifth and sixth.” He zipped up his leather jacket and tugged on a pair of black and red leather gloves.
“Oh, so that’s what Tiger was groaning about.”
“Uh huh.” Lovello jerked on his helmet and I stood staring, mesmerized, at the man before me. His long-lashed eyes squinted as he eyed the other bikers who were warming up a far off. He kicked up his side-stand and commenced revving the handles, causing faint blue smoke to puff through the muffle. The man was so damn hot. So damn sexy. So damn delectable. And I wanted him. Every inch of him.
He glanced up and saw me staring, no doubt looking a bit dazed, too. “What is it, Axia?”
When I didn’t answer because of a dry mouth, he sighed. “Don’t worry, beauts. I do this frequently. I won’t break a limb. I promise.”
Oh that’s far from what’s going through my mind … “I’m not worried. You were just…”
“Just … ?” He reached a hand out as if to touch my face, and my skin tingled in anticipation, but then he pulled back, replacing his hand on the bike handle.
“Nothing.” I plastered on a smile. “Go kick ass, Playboy.”
Speculative slate-grays stared me down for another minute before he winked at me then revved off to the starting line.
A few seconds later, a rough voice came through the speakers instructing the bikers to get ready while people gathered on the sidelines of the massive oval racetrack. The batch of girls who I’d seen earlier skipped down with whistles and cheering a few feet away from where I stood. Some cast me contemptuous glances, no doubt pissed that Lovello’s attention was directed at me all day.
The bikers lined up behind the starting line, and I could see Tiger mouthing off at Lovello and Natalio. Natalio, serious as always, shook his head and snapped down the face shield of his helmet, revving an all-white Suzuki bike. But Lovello, the more jovial, said something back to Tiger, flashing him a cocky grin before shutting down his face shield and fixing his attention on the road. The burly, tattooed Tiger peevishly said something back but no one paid him any attention, as they were all set and ready to race.
A few more seconds of gabbling from the voice over the speaker and then … they were off. The zinging of the motorbikes sang in the air, blending with the chorus of cheers coming from the sidelines. Ferron was in the lead as they zoomed by me at lightning speed, Tiger in second and Lovello in third. They circled the first lap in mere seconds, and by this time Lovello was in the lead and Tiger still in second while Ferron fell into third.
They zinged past me again on the third lap, their bikes practically lying on their sides as they careened the deep corners. By the fourth lap, Natalio was in the lead, with Lovello tailing in second, Tiger in third and Ferron in fourth. And that’s how it remained for the next two circles when Natalio zoomed to the finish line, lifting his bike in an intense wheelie to show off, eliciting a bout of screams from the women.
Lovello finished in second, outdoing Natalio’s big finish by swinging both legs over to the side and letting the bike run. He then stood up on the seat as he tilted the bike upward so that it was riding entirely on the front wheel. My heart lurched in my chest, while everyone else whistled and cheered. This was obviously normal to them, but for me it was scary as hell. A blow of relief flowed through me when Lovello dropped the bike back on both wheels and sat back down. He nodded to Natalio, daring him to compete with that, but Natalio just shook his head and flipped him the bird. It seems that while Natalio was the better racer, Lovello was better at stunts.
After the race, Lovello parked his motorcycle and jogged over to me. “So?”
“Just as you predicted,” I answered.
“Enjoyed it?”
“Everything except where you risked your life with that stunt.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, Axia, that little stunt was nothing. You should see —”
“No! I don’t want to see you do anything like that again.” My words came out a bit sterner and more commanding than I meant them to.
Lovello sent his eyes to the heavens and tugged at my ponytail. “Axia, you’re young. Live a little.”
Feeling like I was about to explode, I blurted, “Why won’t you touch me, Love?”
At my sudden question his eyebrows lifted. “You said you wanted friendship. I’m giving you friendship.”
“Friends touch.”
“There’s nothing friendly about my touches, Axia.” He gripped my hips and pulled me up against him, and an instant shiver shrilled through me, my eyes closing at the contact while tagging a long, satisfying sigh. Tilting my chin up with his index finger, forcing me to open my eyes, he whispered, “And there’s nothing friendly about the way you want me to touch you.”
Tiger came up behind us before I could reply and grumpily chucked Lovello on the shoulder
. “The next game’s not gonna be yours, pussy whip.”
“You got a bone to pick, T? Then pick it with Natalio. I came in second, dude.”
Tiger eyed Natalio as he swaggered up to us, but it was obvious that he was too afraid of Natalio to say a word.
Lovello laughed when Natalio strolled up and Tiger said nothing. “What a wuss. There’s the winner. Chuck him!”
“You bitchin’ again, Tiger?” Natalio laughed, lightly chucking Tiger.
Tiger scowled. “Whatever, man. Let’s drink.”
We all laughed and headed back to our spot.
“When is Sadie coming back from New York?” Lovello directed to Natalio. “She’s never been away this long. It’s odd.”
Natalio grunted. “She was supposed to be back since Wednesday, but she kept setting back the date, saying that she still had stuff to go through for the new clothing line she’s starting with Geo Lee. And by the time she gets back on Monday — that’s if she holds her word and actually comes home on Monday — I’ll only get, like, two days with her before I leave for Korea. Shit’s driving me insane.”
“Are you sure Sadie’s not doing this on purpose? To get back at you for choosing work over her all the time? Like I told you, brother, she was seriously upset.”
Natalio cast his brother a side glance, his face frowning in thought. “You think that’s what she’s doing?”
Lovello shrugged. “Maybe. You wouldn’t realize it because it’s typical of you to do shit like that. You know, pushing back your return date to work instead.” He took a beer Tiger thrust at him as we reached the rest of the guys. “But you know Sadie’s not like that. I don’t believe for one second that Sadie would rather be working in New York when she knows you’re here — knowing that time with you is so preciously limited.” He chuckled at the latter.
Natalio’s frown deepened as he took an offered beer and popped the cap, clearly weighing up Lovello’s hypothesis. “Now that I think about it … shit. Why is she always screwing with me like this?”
“To get your attention. Maybe if you quit leaving the country every damn two seconds and start spending more time —”