Uncharted

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by Nikki Thornton




  Uncharted

  Nikki Thornton

  Copyright © 2009 by Nikki Thornton

  Book design by Nikki Thornton

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: October 2009

  ISBN 978-1448610198

  The Biker

  While driving down the highway, he pulled up next to a car and glanced in. There was a girl singing away to her radio, being incredibly silly. It was absolutely adorable. She was doing little dances while belting out the words in a way that would make Christina Aguilera jealous. He couldn’t help but smile. He pushed the button on his helmet to talk to the guys he was riding with and asked them to slow down a bit so he could watch a little longer. They seemed a little irritated, but they obliged.

  The girl glanced over to the bikers out of habit; they had been next to her for a while now, unusual for passing. One of them was watching her with a grin on his face. He must have been watching for a while. She blushed, embarrassed. She slowed down, hoping they would get past her quickly. They sped up and eventually were out of sight.

  Relieved to be alone again, she went back to her singing and dancing. That was part of why she decided to do this trip alone. She wanted to be able to be as silly as she wanted, without embarrassment. She continued her drive until she was too tired and too hungry to continue.

  Around dusk, she pulled off the highway looking for a motel and food. She stopped at a motel that had cabins rather than rooms. After stopping in the office, she dropped her bag off in her cabin and ran a brush through her knotted hair.

  After hearing her stomach rumble, she headed across the street to the diner. There was a group of motorcycles parked out front.

  Hoping against probability that it was not the same group from her drive, she entered the diner. Of course it’s them. They had pushed together a few tables in the corner.

  She headed to the counter on the opposite side of the small room, grabbed a menu, and took a seat. The waitress behind the counter took her order and gave her a glass of water. She sucked it down, surprised at how thirsty she was.

  As she asked for another, someone leaned up against the counter next to her and ordered a coffee. While waiting, he took a seat next to her. She looked up to see him grinning the same grin as the biker who caught her being silly. Clearly he found her earlier antics amusing.

  “Come here often?”

  How original. “Just passing through,” she tried to control her voice, masking her irritation.

  “I didn’t realize performers such as yourself ate at places like this,” he chuckled. He found himself much more hilarious than he was. How typical.

  “I didn’t realize places like this served men such as yourself,” she said.

  He could not contain his laughter. It annoyed her.

  “Well aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” he asked while smiling. “Don’t like bikers?”

  “Oh, no, it’s not that. It’s the attitude I’m talking about,” she said.

  While bantering back and forth, she couldn’t help but notice his looks—short dark hair, deep brown eyes, and a medium build—not at all what you would expect a biker to look like.

  The waitress set her food in front of her and refilled his coffee. She ate quickly and paid halfway through her meal. Once she finished eating, she left the diner to head to her cabin. When she got inside, she changed into pajamas and grabbed a book to read on the porch.

  After a while, she heard the roar of motorcycles leaving the diner across the street. She did not look up but felt relieved that they left. While turning the page, she heard the jangle of keys as someone opened the cabin next to hers.

  Looking up to the source of the noise, she saw the biker from the diner, and there was his motorcycle. She figured he must have pushed it across the street when his buddies took off. Why would he want to sneak up?

  “Hi, sunshine,” he said.

  She blushed. “What happened to your friends?” she asked.

  “I’ll catch up with them later. Wanted to stick around and enjoy the scenery a bit.” He headed inside.

  That’s weird. There was no scenery, not unless you enjoy looking at a lone cactus and red dirt. Hoping he would not make another appearance, she settled back into her book. Two chapters later, he emerged from his room wet haired and wearing pajama pants and a white t-shirt.

  Suddenly conscience of what she was wearing, a ratty tank top and tattered shorts with her hair pulled back into a very sloppy bun, she pulled her legs up onto the chair so her feet were flat on the seat and rested her book against her thighs just below her knees.

  Feeling as though he was staring, she risked a quick glance up; he was. “Can I help you?” Her voice seethed with irritation.

  “I told you, I’m here to enjoy the scenery.”

  She blushed. “The cactus is that way,” she noted, pointing to his other side.

  He chuckled. “It might be easier for me to enjoy if you stop talking and go back to reading your book.”

  “It’s a little hard to read when you’re being watched.”

  He looked around. “Who’s watching? Do you have a stalker I should know about?” He chuckled again.

  What a cute laugh. “I didn’t until earlier today. I was just minding my own business, taking a road trip, and, out of nowhere, this pretentious, cocky, arrogant boy decided to start stalking me—eating where I eat, staying where I stay, careful to sneak up to it. Must have known that if I heard him approach, I would have gone inside.”

  “I hate to have to remind you, but you came to eat where I already was. You happened to stay at the motel with the best view. And, my bike wouldn’t start so I had to push it.” He paused. “I find it interesting that you say you would have gone back inside had you heard me approach, yet here you are, still sitting out here while I’m ‘stalking’ you.”

  She had to think about that for a minute. How to respond... “Well, if I drove any longer I would have passed out. The diner was the only place to eat. This is the only motel in the area, and there is no view. I didn’t think you would come back out once you went in, and I’m not about to let you ruin my night by driving me back inside. I find it interesting that you admit to stalking me, but don’t deny being pretentious, cocky, or arrogant.”

  “There is a view. I didn’t notice it until I was drinking my coffee. I guess you can’t see it. That’s a shame. It’s quite nice to look at.” He looked absolutely serious. The half grin on his face had finally disappeared. He looked much older without it.

  After a prolonged glare, she slowly turned her attention to her book. She could feel him still staring, but she resolved not to let it bother her. She turned page after page, only half paying attention. No matter, she had read the book before; it was just an old favorite.

  The road trip was about putting the past behind her, finding new adventures, and putting herself in unfamiliar situations. Maybe I shouldn’t even be reading this book, she thought, No, probably not. She closed it, not bothering to mark the page.

  A quick stretch before getting up let her know that she probably should not have sat in that position for so long. She headed back into her cabin and threw the book onto her luggage then sat on the bed, thinking about what to do.

  Here was a perfectly good situation to throw herself into, one she had never encountered before, with someone she had never met. He seems nice enough. Easy enough to carry on a conversation with.

  Not thinking about it, she heade
d to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She let her hair down and ran a brush through it. Maybe I’ll get it cut, she thought. It was pretty long, hanging down to the small of her back.

  Looking in the mirror, she tried to see what he apparently saw. Impossible. She was nothing special to look at. Boring golden brown eyes on a round face and chestnut brown hair with honey brown highlights. No bangs. Maybe when I get it cut, I’ll get bangs. She had not had bangs since the fifth grade, ever since the school picture lady had “fixed” her hair and made her bangs whisk across her forehead in the most horrible way.

  She turned to the side, surveying her figure. She was rather short with a flat stomach and a “bubble butt,” nothing special. The one thing she had going for her was that she did not look her age. She was about to turn twenty-one. She sighed. It was not something she liked to think about. She would be officially starting her twenties, done with college, and needing to find a real job, with no clue what she wanted to do. That’s what this road trip is for, she told herself, well, one of the reasons.

  She glanced at the clock. Has it really been almost an hour since I came inside? He’s probably not even out there anymore. It was still a nice enough night out and, for whatever reason, her intense need to sleep seemed to have blown over. Maybe it was the repetitiveness of driving that did it. She had heard that could happen.

  As she stepped outside, she glanced over to his porch. He was not there. Maybe she would knock on his door. No, all the lights are off, he probably went to sleep. She turned to sit in the same chair as before and gasped. He was there, watching her look over at his cabin.

  “What—”

  “Looking for me, huh? Thought you might. Figured I’d come over here so we wouldn’t wake all the other guests, shouting across the way,” he said as he motioned to his cabin.

  There was no one else staying there. That was obvious. If there was, they were not in; there were no cars or bikes besides theirs. “I wasn’t,” she paused, “looking for you. I was making sure you weren’t out here.” She sat down.

  He opened his mouth to speak.

  Sure of what he would say, she quickly interjected, “Like I said before, I won’t let you ruin my road trip. Not even for one night.”

  He seemed pleased with himself for some reason. “Road trip, huh? Where you going?”

  “No idea.” It was true, she just started driving one day, not caring where she ended up. “I’m just going where the road takes me.”

  He burst out laughing.

  Damn, he has a nice laugh, but how dare he laugh at me. He has no idea what led up to this trip, she thought.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, chuckling some more, not sounding very sincere, “sorry.” He finally composed himself. “It’s just, if you knew how that sounded—and you said it so…seriously. I’ve never met a woman who was willing to do something without a plan. Plus, that was such a cliché thing to say. I couldn’t help myself.” He chucked again.

  “Met a lot of women have you? Is that your game? Find women traveling by themselves and cozy your way into their trip?” She suddenly realized what a mistake this could actually be. How could she have been so stupid? The manager was most definitely asleep by now.

  The diner across the street was open 24 hours, but there were no patrons left. The wait staff would have been in the back by now, unable to see and probably unable to get there quickly enough if she screamed. She shifted nervously in her chair.

  “No, no, no. It’s not like that at all. I’m just saying, stereotyping, rather. Women like to have plans. It’s in all the books, all the movies. My mother, my sisters…you know.” He seemed to be picking up on her nervousness. “Emmerick, by the way.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s my name. Emmerick. If you don’t want to share yours, that’s ok. I just thought you might feel a little better if you knew mine.” He studied her carefully. She seemed to relax a bit. She even smiled a little. “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing. That’s just an unusual name. I like it though,” she added quickly, afraid she might offend him. “Well, lucky for you, I’m not your average girl, so I guess I can trust you, for now. But no funny business,” she said seriously.

  “Not at all average.” He grinned again and she blushed. “You have a hard time with that? Taking a complement.” She did not comment, so he continued, “I don’t understand. You’re absolutely breathtaking. Surely you can see that, or at least, others have told you so.”

  What is he playing at? she wondered. “Not so much,” she said, “I’d rather not get into it. Long story, lots of history. I’m trying to get away from that.”

  He looked confused.

  “My past. Put it behind me,” she explained.

  “What better way to put it behind you than to get it all out?” He had a point. She had to deal with it before moving past it. “I’m the best person to confide in.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Besides the fact that I’m the only one here and I’m asking about it? Well, who am I going to tell? I don’t know anyone you know. You can be completely honest about it. No censors.”

  “You do have a point.” I hate that. “First, let me ask you something. How old are you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She nodded.

  He noticed her expression change when she did that; she looked as though it were an obvious requirement for her story. “I’ll be twenty-four next spring,” he said.

  “Well, then this may seem trivial to you. It goes back to high school.”

  He looked slightly horrified. “You’re not—” Her secret weapon struck again. “I just thought, since you’re out here all alone—” He gestured at nothing. “I mean, sure, you get your license young, but what kind of parent would let their kid go off on her own…” he trailed off.

  “Easy boy. Don’t beat yourself up for hitting on a minor. I’m almost twenty-one.” He looked so relieved that she could not help but laugh. “You should beat yourself up for hitting on me though, but for other reasons.”

  “Such as?” He paused, seeming to think about possible reasons. “Never mind, that will get us off track. Continue with your high school story.” He grinned his stunning half grin.

  “Just remember, you’ll probably find this petty and if you didn’t have a lot of female friends, or your sisters didn’t clue you in, you may find it enlightening.” She paused, and he didn’t comment, so she continued, “When I was in ninth grade, there was a boy I had a crush on. He was two classes above me. On a school trip, we were sitting across the aisle from each other on the bus, and we started talking.

  “Our school was pretty small, so we had a couple of classes together. We spoke occasionally, but not often. This trip was my chance. Most people were sleeping. It was pretty late. I flirted the best I knew how, and he seemed receptive. The next day, I confided in my friend that I liked him, and I asked for her advice. I can’t remember what she told me, but she seemed to support me.

  “Later that day, after a stop somewhere, we all got back on the bus, and she was sitting next to my crush. They were holding hands. I couldn’t believe it. How could she do that to me?

  “Before that, in middle school, I was made fun of for my weight and my acne. I wasn’t huge or anything. I was just, growing into my body still. Baby fat, my mom called it. The teasing continued into high school. Intensified even. Looking back on pictures, I’m not sure what their basis was to make fun of me. I wasn’t that bad. A little pudgy, sure, but no worse than those who made fun of me. I guess I was just an easy target. Not a lot of friends, just my little group of bests, which had problems of its own…”

  She glanced at Emmerick to gauge his response to her story. He was looking at her with his eyes smoldering. She looked away before continuing her story.

  “I dated a little, but not much, and never any of the boys in my school. Nothing ever worked out though. Eventually, I just gave up.”

  She looked up at him again, suddenly aware of the
burning in her eyes. He was still watching her, now with an apologetic look on his face. He looked sincere. Her eyes could not contain the burn any longer, and tears silently rolled down her cheeks.

  Slightly hesitant, he got up and stood in front of her. He grabbed her hands and pulled her up. His hands were surprisingly warm. She had not noticed how cool it had gotten. She shivered, and he pulled her into a hug and began petting her hair. She just stood there and let a stranger comfort her. She tried to contain herself, but the tears would not stop.

  She was shaking slightly—whether from the cold or the crying, she was not sure—but he was patient. He held her until she was done, soothing her the best he could. Why would a complete stranger be this kind? He knew nothing about her, except for the fact she just kind of poured her heart out to him. How weird. He was so easy to talk to.

  She pulled away and wiped her tears, slightly embarrassed. “Kennedy,” she told him as she sat back in her chair.

  He took a moment to digest it. She realized that he may not understand that to be her name; it was kind of a random time to share it. His mind seemed to start working. “Sorry,” he said. He shook his head as though to shake out some thoughts. “I’m usually not that slow. Nice to meet you, Kennedy.” He paused, unsure if he should continue. “For the record, you went to high school with a bunch of crazies.” He sat back down. “So, now that that’s behind you,” he smiled, “what does the future hold?”

  “No idea. As I said before, I’m going where the road takes me.” She paused and his grin threatened a laugh. “No laughing,” she added quickly. “Your turn. What’s your story?”

  “Me? No story, just on a road trip with some buddies. Seeing some sights.” He looked into her eyes. “Finally found one that caught my attention. I think they’re headed to the Grand Canyon.”

  “How are you supposed to catch up to them if you don’t know where they’re going?”

 

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