Rain

by Cote, Christie

“Thanks,” I responded.

  “Ready?” he asked, ignoring my thanks.

  I nod.

  “Okay, you get on behind me and wrap your arms around my waist and hold on to me tight. If I’m going too fast or you feel like you can’t hold on, tell me and I will stop,” he explained, getting on the bike. He was born to be on that bike. He looked like he belonged on it.

  I just learned that I liked guys on motorcycles.

  I got on behind him and wrapped my arms around him like he had told me to, which was not a problem. I could hold on to him all day. He started the bike, which rumbled and sent vibrations through me.

  “Don’t let go!” he yelled.

  Oh I wouldn’t.

  “Okay!” I shouted back, and we were off.

  He drove the bike slowly off his driveway and down the street. It was smooth, and the feeling of having the wind all around me while moving like this was invigorating. He sped up after we were off the residential street, and the wind whipped through my hair. I tightened my grip on him, adrenaline coursing through me. The sensation was similar to being on a roller coaster rushing through the wind and feeling like you could fall off at any moment. It was terrifying and exciting all at the same time. Before long, we rode into town, and he parked the motorcycle outside of a big building. I had no clue where we were.

  “We are here,” he said, removing his helmet without giving me any more information.

  I took my helmet off and reluctantly let go of him to get off the bike. My legs were a bit wobbly.

  “That was freaking awesome,” I practically yelled.

  He stood in front of me and took the helmet out of my hands. “Glad you enjoyed it,” he smiled.

  I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to fix some of the tangles from the wind before taking off his jacket and holding it in my arms.

  “I’ll take that,” he told me, removing it from my hands. I didn’t want him to take it, but I figured I would get to wear it again when we went back.

  Kyle led me into the building and put our helmets and jackets on a table near the doorway. He then directed me through the building. I had no idea what we were doing or where we were going. All he’d told me was that it was a surprise. Finally, he brought me inside an elevator.

  “Close your eyes,” he said, smiling.

  I obeyed, and a moment later, the elevator started moving. It dinged, signaling that we had reached our destination.

  “Keep your eyes closed and take a few steps forward,” he said, taking my hand and slowly pulling me forward.

  I hesitantly stepped forward, hating not being able to see where I was walking.

  “You can open your eyes. For now,” he told me.

  We were in a plain white hallway with a few scattered doors that gave no hint to where we were going. He continued to hold my hand as we walked. He opened a door that led to a staircase and we went up the flight of stairs. When we reached the top, a sly smile slid onto Kyle’s face as he looked at me.

  “Close your eyes one more time.” He winked.

  I rolled my eyes at him, smiling back, and then closed them. He guided me forward.

  “Step up.”

  I heard a door being opened. I did as he’d said, clutching his hand a little harder.

  “Step down,” he advised, and this was when I lost my balance and stumbled. A small, involuntary screech escaped my mouth, and Kyle had his arms around me steadying me instantly. “Smooth,” he chuckled.

  “You try walking without being able to see,” I retorted as I basked in his warmth and close proximity. Why hadn’t I tripped before now? He steadied me and released me way too quickly. Disappointment panged me.

  “Okay, you can open your eyes again,” he told me softly.

  I let my eyes flutter back open and refocus on Kyle. I felt the wind and finally looked around.

  We were outside on a roof overlooking the city and the ocean. The view was breathtaking; I had never seen anything like it in person. The sky was a light blue, scattered with clouds. Seagulls and birds were flying in the sky. I could see the waves push through the ocean and smell the salt and sea in the air. Boats were traveling the water, oblivious to our watching them. People walked on the sidewalks and crossed the street. Buildings were dispersed around, some shorter and some taller than the building we were on now.

  I was stunned into silence. Leave it to the guy who kept surprising me to know about the most beautiful view around and introduce me to it.

  I turned toward him again and found him watching me intently.

  “Why do you watch me like that?” I asked.

  “What did you think when you saw the sun rise?” he answered with a question, tilting his head at me. I furrowed my brow and thought back to that moment, the morning I checked into the hospital.

  “It was beautiful,” I whispered, caught off guard.

  “That is why I watch you,” he whispered back.

  My breath hitched, and I was stunned by his admission. He’d just said that I was beautiful without actually saying it. Wow. I was filled with that butterfly sensation people talk about, but it wasn’t just in my stomach. It was everywhere. I wanted to jump up and down, yell for joy, and cry all at the same time.

  I felt something cold hit my skin once, and then again. I looked up at the sky just as rain began pelting us. Leave it to rain to ruin a perfect moment.

  “I guess we should go back inside,” I said, disappointed.

  “It’s just rain,” he told me without releasing his gaze on me. Stepping forward, Kyle encased my face in his hand, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. He brought his face close to mine, touching his nose with mine, never breaking eye contact. His touch sent shivers through me, driving me crazy, but I didn’t move or breathe.

  He pulled me closer, and his lips brushed over mine, setting fireworks off inside me. When our lips met, it was like my body had finally received what it had been craving all this time without having the experience to create the craving before. His kiss deepened and became more intense. The feeling that came over me was nothing like I had ever felt before; I couldn’t even begin to describe it.

  The rain continued to fall, drenching us. I could taste the salt as we kissed. He removed his hands from my face and pulled me in closer, closing his eyes, fully losing himself in it, and allowing me to do the same. I had never kissed someone with my eyes open before. Closing your eyes always seemed like something you just did, but having them open was more special. For that moment, we weren’t hiding from each other. We left ourselves open and vulnerable.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, wanting him even closer than how he had embraced me. He wasn’t kissing me like I was going to break; he was kissing me like he thought he would break without this kiss. I could feel his pent-up emotion come through the kiss, making me realize he had wanted to do this for a long time. It hadn’t just been me who had wanted to kiss him.

  I wanted this more than anything, and this moment was perfect, but then my reality broke through my thoughts. I wasn’t cured. I still considered myself sick because the cancer could come back, and I didn’t want him to have that kind of obligation. More than anything, I didn’t want to hurt him.

  I broke the kiss, looking down without meeting his eyes.

  “I’m still sick,” I whispered.

  He pulled my head back up and met my gaze. “Just because you are sick doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be loved. I’ve known all along and it hasn’t stopped me from falling in love with you,” he confessed with his heart in his eyes.

  I sucked in a startled breath. Holy crap, he just said he loved me.

  I stood there in shock, forgetting how to move or speak. He pulled off my drenched wig and ran his fingers through my short hair.

  “I don’t care about this,” he said, throwing the wig on the ground. “You don’t need to hide under the wig from me. Being sick isn’t anything to be ashamed of. I’m not in love with your hair. I’m in love with you,” he stated, sliding his
hands from my hair down my face softly. “You are beautiful with or without the wig.”

  He knew I’d hated losing my hair. He recognized that I was embarrassed and felt unattractive without the wig hiding the lost hair that was trying to come back bit by bit. I blinked back tears, and before I had time to process and respond, he kissed me again, showing me that he wanted me whether I was sick or not. I let him kiss me because I couldn’t produce words to tell him how incredible he was or that I was pretty sure I loved him too. All I knew was that I would never forget this day—or this moment—and I never wanted it to end.

  He ran his hands through the little hair I had and over my face and then down my arms and any place he could touch my skin. His touch did wicked things to me, and I kissed him back even harder. He knew how to kiss, teasing my mouth and showing me passion I had never experienced before. I clung to him, our clothes soaked and sticking to us. My clothes felt heavy now that they had absorbed as much water as they possibly could.

  We were both breathing heavily, not able to get enough of each other. I should have been cold, especially with the rain, but my skin was on fire. He wrapped his hand around me, squishing me into him wanting me closer. My fingers danced at the edge of his shirt before they wandered underneath, touching his warm, wet skin and perfect body. I trailed them up his side, and as he grabbed on to my sides, I felt a tremor go through his body.

  He lifted me up, startling me, and a squeak escaped my lips, breaking the kiss. He smiled and looked at me with awe and hunger in his eyes. My heart was beating like crazy, and I tried to catch my breath, but it kept coming out as ragged gasps until I kissed him again.

  He continued to hold me up, and the next thing I knew was that my back was against a wall. Instinct finally took over and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I put my fingers through his messy, wet hair, tugging at it. He broke the kiss again, releasing a harsh breath. I was about to protest the lack of contact when his lips met my neck, sending an incredible sensation though me. A small moan escaped my lips before I could stop it, and then his hands encased my face again as his lips crashed onto mine once again, pressing me harder into the wall as he groaned into my mouth. Holy crap.

  Nothing else existed. In this moment, I wasn’t sick or fragile. Only powerful and strong. Desire consumed me. I was just a girl who was in need of this guy and nothing beyond that. The way he kissed me and touched me was like he needed me just as much as I needed him, if not more.

  He broke away from my mouth again. “We should go.” His voice came out thick and ragged, his eyes bright and hungry.

  “Why?” I breathed, wanting his mouth back on mine.

  “Because if we keep this up, I might start ripping your clothes off,” he said bluntly.

  I wasn’t opposed to that. Actually, that sounded quite nice, so I kissed him again.

  “We’re outside… On a roof,” he groaned while kissing me back.

  My reasonable thinking must have plunged off the roof because I didn’t care at the moment, and that was most likely a problem. He pulled me off the wall and tried to put me down, but I wasn’t having it. I clung to him even more.

  “What are you trying to do to me?” he grumbled, looking at me.

  I looked at him with big innocent eyes, making him laugh. “Fine,” I pouted, unlatching myself from him, and he set me down.

  “You are stronger than you look,” he commented, smiling at me with his arms still wrapped around me, water streaming down his face and mine.

  “Adrenaline, maybe?” I responded, looking down as embarrassment caught up with me. My head cleared a little, and realization of my actions started to hit me. I had never been so swept up like that to the point where I wasn’t thinking things through. That was a bit scary and embarrassing.

  “Hey,” he whispered, pulling my chin up so he could see my face. I still kept my eyes cast down. “It’s okay.” He smiled and placed another soft kiss on my lips. If he kept doing that, the world could be on fire and I would think that it was okay.

  I shivered, the cold from the wind and rain seeping in. Kyle pulled me closer to him again.

  “Let’s get you inside,” he said, guiding me to the door and opening it for me.

  I stepped inside, and he released me to run back outside. I was confused for a minute, but then I saw him picking up my wig, which I had all but forgotten about. I automatically smiled. He was sweet and thoughtful, not what I had expected of him when I met him for the first time. He looked dark, guarded, and ready to cause trouble at any moment, and then there was his motorcycle. I wouldn’t have ever expected a guy like that to be so caring and want to be with a sick girl.

  He came back and held my hand, leading me away from the roof, letting the door slam shut behind us. We went back down the stairs and into the white hallway again, but instead of going to the elevator, we ended up going into the women’s restroom. He just strolled right in with me like he belonged there.

  “Uh…this is the women’s restroom…” I informed him.

  “It’s Saturday. No one is here. I’ll help you get cleaned up.” He winked.

  “Where is here?” I asked, still not having a clue.

  “It’s the law firm my dad works at,” he explained, walking to a table where a few towels were folded. Towels in a restroom—really? I looked around and saw that it was a large restroom with not only stalls, but showers.

  “Wow,” I remarked. This was officially the nicest public restroom I had ever been in.

  He placed a towel over my shoulders, and I pulled the sides in close, trying to get warm. He took another towel and gently mopped up the water on my face and head. On the bright side, my hair didn’t take long to dry right now, but my wig was going to be another story.

  “I think your makeup ran a bit,” he chuckled, trying to wipe my face more, probably to get black smudges off.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, only imagining what I looked like.

  There was a large mirror nearby, but Kyle had me where I couldn’t see my reflection in it at the moment. Plus, I didn’t mind the attention I was getting either, so I wasn’t in a rush to move away and look. He continued to pat the rest of me down the best he could. He was still soaking wet, and there were puddles of water on the floor around us. Oops.

  “That is the best I can do with a towel,” he told me, grabbing the last dry one available for himself.

  “I can help you,” I said, nervously stepping forward. It was only fair, and it gave me an excuse to touch him more. I pulled the towel out of his hands, and he nodded.

  “We can wait out the rain here and hopefully dry off more so I don’t freeze you going back to your house,” he informed me as I softly moved the towel over his face and then ran it over his hair before moving to his chest.

  He placed his hand on mine and stopped me before he pulled his shirt over his head. Now he was trying to kill me; my body temperature instantly rose. His smooth chest and muscles were even more appealing wet.

  “That should help,” he smirked at me, and I wanted to hit him. He was doing this on purpose.

  I held the glare I wanted to give him back, just in case I was wrong, and nodded instead, swallowing hard. I placed the towel on his hard chest and began drying him again. He was lucky he could get away with not wearing a shirt. I didn’t have much of a choice.

  “You know that is totally not fair,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow at me questioningly.

  “I can’t take my shirt off to get dry,” I explained, and a wise smile spread across his face.

  “Technically you could.” His eyes gleamed as he said it, making my cheeks warm again.

  Oh crap.

  “Not happening,” I told him, pressing the towel harder into his skin.

  Mischief filled his eyes, and before I knew it, his lips were on mine again, making me breathless. I dropped the towel, and my hands were flat against his chest. I could feel each inhale and exhale and how his muscles tensed as he kissed me tenderly, exploring my mou
th once again.

  “How about now?” he whispered huskily.

  “Nope.”

  And then his lips were back, making my reasoning skills decrease again. Now he ran his fingers from my shoulders down my arms and then up my back and back down again, sending small shivers through me. He reached the bottom of my shirt and stuck his fingers under it. I found myself exploring his arms and back with my hands as well. He was so warm, and I wanted to steal all of his heat. I was breathing heavily again, and my brain was lagging. It took me a few seconds to process that my shirt kept rising.

  “Now?” he asked, sounding just as breathless as I felt.

  Now, what? I felt my shirt inch up more and his warm stomach press against mine, taking any coldness I had there away. This was one way to warm up.

  My brain caught up, and I realized what the ‘now’ was—my shirt coming off. Crap. I stepped back, glaring at him. The absence of his touch was a shock of cold that made me shiver again. I picked up the towel and eyed him before I finished drying him off.

  “Do that again and you get to dry yourself,” I scolded, which made him laugh. “I mean it,” I said, glaring at him again.

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he said.

  A few minutes later, I was done, not taking my time anymore because I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble again.

  “Thank you.”

  “Mm hmm,” I responded grudgingly.

  He walked away and looked in a cabinet under the sink. “Score!” he exclaimed, pulling out a hairdryer. “I need to start using women’s restrooms more often. They are way better.”

  I went over to him and took the hairdryer from him. I could use it to dry myself off more, so I agreed with his verdict of score. I plugged it in and programmed it for high and hot. I wasn’t messing around with the warm option. The hot air felt good. I let it hit my face before I worked on drying my shirt and then my pants as best as I could. I let Kyle help dry my back off with it also since it was hard to do it on my own.

  My wig was a mess; this was the first time I had gotten it wet. Were they supposed to get wet? I put the soaking wet wig back on since the best way I knew how to dry hair was when it was actually on my head. Taking the hairdryer back from Kyle, I began drying it while combing it with my fingers. The hair was a bit tangled, but I managed to get it under control and dry before long. Kyle had started to use the hand dryer to dry his shirt. It didn’t work as well.