Innocent Ride

by Robertson, Alethea

  “You ever ride a motorcycle without a helmet?”

  I thought about that and had to go all the way back to Ricky, my high school boyfriend—the bad boy. We’d dated through our senior year, then gone to different colleges. He had been my first real boyfriend. We didn’t wear helmets. “Yes,” I said, defeated.

  “Then you know what I mean. Once you go without protection, can’t go back.” Robbie gave me a playful smirk and I got the feeling he was referring to something else entirely. The worst thing was, he was still right. “So…how was your…um…date?”

  “My date?” Not the question I was expecting. But I dutifully answered. “We had tea in the bookstore café.”

  “Oh?”

  Before I could elaborate—as if this day could get any stranger—we caught up to Carrie. And all three of us halted at the most unexpected sight across the street.

  A family of picketers marched and waved signs. The first one I saw said “God Hates Fags,” and I didn’t bother reading most of the rest, except for one held by a sweet-looking little toddler that read “Gays Go To Hell!”

  Carrie threw a gesture at the air. “What’re they doing here? This isn’t someone’s funeral.”

  “Did someone die?” Robbie asked, to no one in particular. Usually the Philip family only picketed funerals. I’d never heard of them picketing an office building. Maybe they were branching out.

  We continued and I almost didn’t recognize Oliver whipping by us with quick strides. He looked disheveled and breathless, his head down, like he was avoiding someone.

  Carrie, Robbie, and I exchanged uneasy glances.

  Once we got to the second floor, Robbie bolted for his cubicle. Carrie and I headed to the break room, where she made for the coffee machine and I poured steamy water into a paper cup. Pete soon joined us, pouring his usual Diet Coke. I frowned. I wondered if I should tell him that the diet in the label didn’t actually mean diet. Then I forgot about it when Oliver made his grand entrance, dressed as usual. His shirt was tucked in and each strand on his head in its proper place. He went around the room distributing flyers from a stack he carried in his arms, making sure everyone had one.

  “Don’t forget my costume party coming up. Costume’s required,” he instructed, and I prepared myself to hear about this party every day until its arrival. He pinned a flyer on the bulletin board, stuck one on the fridge, and taped one to a cabinet. Then he sat in the chair and turned to me. “Tell me all about your date.”

  I caught Pete rolling his eyes. I was in the middle of my story when Robbie entered. He filled his tumbler with three packs of sugar, then topped it with coffee. I shook my head, remembering my oatmeal.

  “W-w-w-wait!” Carrie said. “You told him you’re looking for your soul mate?”

  Pete laughed and shook his head.

  “You don’t say that on a first date!” Oliver scolded. “He’s never gonna call you now.”

  “Well, then,” I said with inflated dignity, “maybe it’s for the best, because I don’t want to date. I just want to be in love. Like in the books. Like Romeo and Juliet. Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. Edgar and Catherine.” I shook my head. “I mean Heathcliff and Catherine. Edward and Bella. Cinderella.”

  “You know what this means?” Pete said. “You read too much smut! You need to read some John Grisham—get a good dose of reality.”

  “If I wanted reality, I wouldn’t read fiction.” I crossed my arms. Of course, I didn’t mind a little Grisham now and then, but only when justice was involved.

  “Cinderella?” Carrie asked.

  “Okay, I don’t want to be a victim locked away by an evil step-mother, but I want my prince to come for me. I want the magical kind of love. How could it be written about since the beginning of time if it doesn’t exist? It does exist and I’m not settling until I get exactly that.” I crossed my arms again, surprised at myself. I reflected for a moment. It was true, I wouldn’t settle. Why should I? I was doing just as fine without my prince.

  “Tell me about your Romeo,” Robbie said, and all eyes landed on him. “What? Just curious. I bet he has to read a lot of…romance?”

  I shrugged. “Guess I thought I’d know when we met…” It would be magical, I thought. Hopefully he would at least read fiction. And I always thought he’d be independent. Like an investor or something, though that wasn’t really important. No, the most important thing… “He’s gotta be my white knight. Bold and daring enough to fall in love. But we don’t get to choose who we fall in love with, do we?”

  Carrie shook her head. “Girl, I fall in love every time I go to the club. You should come sometime. Bold and daring happens after a few drinks.”

  Later, during an afternoon break, I stayed at my desk to finish a chapter. I didn’t notice the salty streams that were rolling down my cheeks until someone tapped my shoulder and lured me from the heroine’s heartache. Robbie stood over me, coffee mug with spoon in one hand, the other coming to rest gently on my shoulder. A chill rippled through my skin. It startled me. “You okay?” he asked.

  “I won’t be if this guy doesn’t come back. How could someone experience that kind of love and just walk away? He has to come back.”

  “Huh?”

  I told him about the sparkly vampire book, as Pete had called it.

  “Did I understand you…you’re not seeing Angel again?” His fingers fidgeted with a stack of papers on my desk.

  I told him about “friending” with Angel on Saturday, the part he’d missed in the break room this morning. I glanced at my phone. No word from Angel. No sweet text. No message of endearment. Surely, if it was true love, I’d have heard from him by now, right?

  Robbie leaned against my desk, listening intently as people bustled around the divided room. Phone conversation buzzed around us, oblivious to the two of us nestled our little crook of the edifice. He didn’t have much to say about Angel, but at times he flashed an expression I didn’t recognize. It made me wonder how he and his fiancée were doing. If they had moved on from the bike issue.

  Robbie’s lips curled slightly, as if suppressing a smile. He leaned close to me, resting his hand on my knee.

  “You think he’s your Romeo?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not. Is Lucy your Juliet?” I asked, wondering why I would ask such a thing, and immediately regretting it at the downfall of his grin.

  “No,” he said curtly, surprising me with his answer. He really was troubled. I could feel his regard, his brows furrowed from some battle in his mind. “I was thinking…you know those things you said in the break room earlier? Maybe guys are afraid to do that kind of stuff…it can break a guy to get rejected, especially when he hangs himself out there.”

  Fear of rejection? Sounded like a lame excuse to me. I shrugged. “Not my Romeo. My Romeo’s no coward. He faces his fears. There’s no barrier too great for our love.” I was sure of it.

  “Oh. My. God!” Oliver’s chin was propped on the divider and he was pointing at my book. How long had he been there? “I just finished that one. I’m on the third now. So good!” He studied Robbie’s expression, then mine. “What?”

  “Does he come back?” I asked. What a silly question. Of course he was coming back, this was a love story! But, then again, authors could do the cruelest things sometimes, like kill the ones we love the most.

  “I can’t tell you,” Oliver sang, ducking into his cubicle. “But it’s not what you think.” Then I heard his monotone script as he answered another call.

  “I’m on the fourth book,” Carrie said from her cubicle across the aisle. “Can’t put it down.”

  “Does he come back?” I asked Carrie.

  “Girl, I ain’t saying nothing. And don’t you dare look ahead. I’ll know.”

  “Everyone’s reading it.” Mary, a girl from the third floor, who’d followed Carrie in, pulled the fourth book from her bag. “It’s a phenomenon.”

  Carrie got another call. Robbie and I both looked at the giant, ominous c
lock hanging over the call center, its hand pounding forward.

  “Hey,” Robbie said. “I wanted to ask…you still wanna go for a ride?” He must’ve seen the confusion on my face. “Remember? You said I should take you for a ride when I get the bike. I got the bike.”

  Oh. Right. About that. That had been so long ago. I hadn’t thought he’d ever get the bike, to be honest. I didn’t know how to answer. I looked at my phone. Zero messages from Angel.

  Chapter 5

  IT WAS AN innocent ride. It’s not like I was in the habit of going for rides of any kind with other women’s fiancés. Robbie was nothing more than a friend. I was sure of it. Although I couldn’t deny that I was starting to see him like I’d never seen him before.

  On the bike, he was older somehow, tall, slender, and…forbidding. His short, auburn hair was forced back from the wind. No helmet; that would be too restricting for him. I could see that now. The snap-buttoned shirt, rolled to his elbows, and black shades gave him an edge I never would have noticed.

  “Candace,” he said. A shiver rippled across my skin. It must have been the way he said it, commanding and…velvety. “Shouldn’t you wear shoes?” His lips pursed as he eyed my red slip-ons. I probably wasn’t dressed for a motorcycle ride, wearing a tank top and jean cut-offs, but I knew nothing about riding and hated to waste a perfectly good sun like today’s by covering my skin.

  “I’m not changing,” I said.

  He was hesitant. “The pipes are hot. If you get too close, you’ll get burned. So…don’t get too close.” The warning in his voice gave me a chill. “Oh, and you might wanna pull your hair back. Here.” Robbie removed a rubber band from his wrist. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t think of it so I brought one for you.” He smiled his crooked smile. My chest pounded and I think I forgot to breathe. I shook my head at my bodily reaction. He waited patiently as I struggled to fit all of my short hair into a ponytail.

  “Thanks, that’s um…thoughtful of you,” I said. “We can’t stay out too late. We have work tomorrow—” he nodded— “Let’s go.”

  I straddled the bike and melted into his back.

  He released the clutch, gripped the throttle, and the beast roared to life beneath the two of us. Growling, the bike carried us out of my driveway and into the established, tree-lined neighborhood. We eventually turned onto a deserted country road and into the western sun.

  The late afternoon was a warm blue with the very distant exception of thick gray pressure creeping in from the north. The weather report hadn’t mentioned a possible storm today. But Kansas had a tyrannical way of pouncing on the unsuspecting during her jealous rages, devouring all in her path.

  Once we reached the far edge of our middle-sized town, Robbie led us into the direction of the storm. It was too far away to be concerned about. He was allowing me to get comfortable with the motorcycle and that didn’t surprise me; he’d always been sensitive that way. Were it any other driver, terror would have crept in by now, with each leaning turn, and being so exposed, even if only at 35 mph. But the safety I felt was undeniable. I trusted this kid with my life.

  What was even more unusual was the strange magnetic pull between us. I wondered if it had always been there, just…so subtly I had never noticed. But here on the bike, this close to him, it was too powerful for me to simply ignore. It called to me, lured me into him, and I wondered if he felt it too. I peeked over his shoulder. Robbie’s grin revealed nothing but utter joy.

  The highway meandered before us, our bodies one with the bike in each swerve. I was getting used to the turns, even enjoying them. The wind was like thunder pounding my ears, the sweet scent of wild grasses whipping through the twisted air. I inhaled deeply.

  We rode into the sinking sun until a diminutive town appeared in the middle of nowhere. At a four-way stop, Robbie leaned into me, asking, “Which way?” The heat was stagnant and the air deceptively silent until a warm gust swept through the vacant town. A chill trickled up my spine.

  “Just ride,” I said, feeling ready for adventure.

  His lips curled deviously and he cranked the bike onto the interstate, shifting vehemently until we reached a forceful speed. Gusts pounded my ears again, so strong I was forced to tighten my hold on Robbie, tight enough that I could feel the faint, tremulous hum vibrating through his body. I peeked over his shoulder again. His closed-lip smile was reflected in the odometer glass, inside of which the needle pointed to the right. As the miles stretched on, the distinct connection between me, him, and the bike became more pronounced, as if we were meant to be on the open road together. One.

  We eventually slowed onto a narrow, winding road. As the night crept in, the path snaked up a semi-wooded hill until it lured us into a vacant church parking lot, lit by the cool, silvery moon. The engine lulled to a stop and we sat in stillness at the edge of the lot, overlooking the blue prairie beyond the trees we’d just driven through. The night was still and humid, the only sounds coming from the settling engine, a few crickets, and an occasional breeze. Robbie twisted in his seat toward me, his hazel eyes wild with excitement. He studied my plain, brown eyes.

  “What do you think…about the ride?” he asked, his smooth voice riddled with elation. Had his voice always been so…velvety?

  “I love it!” I smiled, unable to conceal my excitement. “It’s…liberating.”

  His lips curled at one end, forming a perfectly crooked smile that made my heart thud in a way that was harder and harder to ignore, try as I might. Had his smile always been so breathtaking, so affecting?

  “I’m glad you like it. This is ultimate freedom, isn’t it?” Passion burned through his ivory-smooth voice. “Lucy hates motorcycles. She was really pissed when I got this.” He sniggered at the reflection, obviously proud of himself. That story, everybody in the office knew, but he’d never shared the details.

  “I thought she gave you a choice,” I said.

  “Well, I told you she said either we get married this spring or I get a bike, right? Well…” A rebellious grin spread across his cheeks.

  After a moment, his lips parted breathlessly and his hazel eyes turned russet, revealing something I didn’t recognize. He was a different person, once again. Then he did something I truly did not expect.

  “Can I try something?” Robbie asked in a whisper, his lips inching closer to mine. His sweet breath brushed my face and I felt a rush of energy. Then, softly, as if magnetically, our lips touched. He pressed into me, and my lips responded reflexively. I felt his tongue inside my mouth, swirling, seizing me. His firm hands drifted up my arms, tenderly making their way to my back. Gently, he pressed me into his body as my arms wrapped around his back, and my body melted into his.

  He released his embrace, keeping a loose hold of me. The russet pool of his eyes smoldered into a cloud of confusion, his regard probing mine. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I didn’t know what to say. But silence seemed rude. “Me too,” I offered.

  “It seems so…natural.”

  “I know,” I whispered, relaxing a little as the veracity of his words sank in. It was more than natural, more like…inevitable. In reflection, that was easier to see…

  I came back to the moment as his lips caressed mine again, subtly, tenderly. My head fell back involuntarily as his lips trailed down my neck. His breath was a velvet cloth against my skin. Then he rested his head lightly on my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around him, caressing his short, soft hair. We sat in the stillness of each other’s embrace, unconcerned, as if we’d done this many nights before. The soft breeze was cool against my back. I was the first to break the silence.

  “Are your bike rides always like this?” I teased. I thought I’d keep it light.

  He sat up. “Well, I don’t usually have a beautiful girl on the back of my bike.”

  Beautiful, he’d said. My heart melted. Then, in a flash, Robbie’s eyebrows wrinkled and he looked away.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He sighed a
nd attempted a smile. Then he took my hand in his and twisted forward in his seat. I rested my chin on his shoulder—so natural—and we both gazed out onto the indigo prairie.

  A sudden gust lifted dead, crispy leaves into a circular dance across the dim parking lot. I heard a rustling from somewhere in the shadows. I think Robbie heard it too because we both scanned the bushes, as if worried someone was watching. But the shadow revealed nothing. I shuddered and inched closer to him.

  “This feels really good,” he said. “Thing is…I always feel this way with you.”

  My heart stopped. Always.

  He looked down, perplexed. “But I should feel guilty…”

  I nodded, understanding, but wasn’t sure what to say.

  “You don’t understand, Candace. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day we met.”

  My nerves chilled, not letting me formulate something coherent to say, so I said nothing for a long moment and just looked at him, wondering how I could have missed this. He faced me again, his grin coloring his pale face, and I couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty before me.

  “What are your happy thoughts?” I asked.

  “Happy thoughts?” His eyebrows creased and he pursed his lips.

  “Yes,” I said. “They’ll keep you in a higher emotional state, which is the only place you’ll ever have clarity.” Staying in clarity, that was the hard part, but now wasn’t the time to tell him. Robbie’s eyes roamed the shadowed landscape in contemplation. A breeze swept between us.

  “My happy thoughts are right here,” he finally said. My breathing stopped again but he didn’t seem to notice. “Lemme see, first there’s this ride…and you.” His finger trailed down to my clavicle, tracing it tenderly. “A kiss.” His lips teased mine and his fingers moved back up my neck, where he gently wrapped his hand around, pulling my breathless lips into his. Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, he released.

  “Two kisses,” Robbie said as a grin emerged on his irreproachably twisted lips. “You’re right, it does make me feel better.” His parted lips trailed my jaw, then nibbled down my neck. My heart almost jumped out of my chest. Robbie wrenched back. “Are you okay?”