by Hope Stone
“Wait, stop!” I cried out. “It’s Shark Tank!”
“Really?” she asked.
“It’s amazing,” I said. “I watched it once when I was home sick, and now I’m addicted.”
The episode featured a few guys who had designed a special kind of surfboard.
“They are so bad at public speaking,” Claire said.
“Yeah, they’ll never get an offer,” I said. “Being able to sell yourself is just as important as the product.”
One episode bled into another, and pretty soon we were both offering our opinions on business products as if we were the experts. During one commercial break, we cleared up the dishes and put away the leftover food. During another one, we refilled our wine glasses.
Somehow, we ended up sitting closer. I had my legs out in front of me and one arm slung over the back of the couch while Claire sat cross-legged, her one knee grazing my thigh. When I was done with my wine, I leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table. As I leaned back, I grazed Claire’s knee with my fingers, as gently as I could. I looked up to see how she had responded.
Her company was nice (even better than I had thought it would be), but I had come over for a reason. Claire gave me a small smile and leaned even closer. She shifted herself until she had turned on the couch and was facing me. I reached up and placed my hand on her neck. I could see the wine had stained the inside of her lips a deep red.
Her lips brushed mine, soft and sweet, and I pulled her closer. It was different kissing her sober. In fact, it was better. I was able to feel more and taste more. I was hyper aware of her soft and full lower lip, and the gentle sighs escaping from her mouth. Every second seemed so filled with sensation.
There was no frenzy like before. No rush to go all the way before we missed our chance. We enjoyed ourselves, and we went slowly.
After a long while, I pulled away to see that Claire had somehow wormed her way into my lap, her legs hanging over my far leg. My arms were wrapped around her waist, and her warm torso was pressed against my chest.
She blinked up at me and smiled. “You wanna watch more Shark Tank?”
And so we did, but Claire stayed ensconced in my arms.
“So what would you invent?” she asked. “For Shark Tank.”
“Probably a cleaning product,” I said. “Those always do pretty well.”
“But that’s boring,” Claire said. “Also you have to be specific.”
“I don’t know enough about cleaning,” I said.
“Ugh, you would never get an offer.” I could tell she was smiling even though she was faced away from me; I could sense it.
“What would you invent?” I asked.
“Maybe a home lie detector test,” Claire said. “So all the desperate wives who hire me can just scan their husbands with an app and know they’re full of bull.”
“How would that even work?” I asked.
“I dunno, I would hire engineers or computer scientists to figure it out,” she said.
Sometimes we would kiss a bit, sometimes just watch. It went on like that for a while, and eventually the combination of kissing, wine, and Chinese food lulled me into a drowsy state of peace.
Before I knew it, I was on my back and drifting off to sleep, Claire dozing against my chest.
Fourteen
Claire
I was surprised by how the night with Pin went, but I was happy with it all. It felt right. Right for me and right for the case. It was bad that I was conflating my interests with an investigation, but I could worry about that later after I had tracked down the missing kids.
When I woke up in his arms on the couch, sunlight trickling through the shades, I didn’t get up right away. I was so comfortable, and his chest was so warm as if there was a compact furnace beneath his skin.
Then I pushed myself up and padded towards the bathroom. I touched my neck and massaged a crick from the awkward sleeping position. Next time, we were totally getting to the bed.
I stared at myself in the mirror. I was so sure there would be a next time. I was looking forward to the next time. And it wasn’t just because of the case.
Pin and I got along. Yes, we already had chemistry as demonstrated by the night out with Kim, but last night had been more than just physical attraction. He was easy to talk to, but also interesting. I couldn’t quite figure him out.
I peeked out of the bathroom to study his sleeping form. He didn’t snore, I noted with glee. He just breathed heavily, his chest rising with each inhale. I shook my head and ducked into my bedroom. Watching a sleeping male was a particular brand of obsessive that I did not want to be a part of.
I reminded myself to focus. After all, what had I learned last night? The club was like family for Pin. That kind of thing sounds cute on the surface, but not when you think about all the twisted contracts involved in a family. People committed all manner of sins for family. And they’ll do anything to hide the sins of their family too.
I had also learned that Moves was the enforcer. A fighter. Violence seethed beneath his charming smiles. That had shocked me, and I’m not easily surprised.
The bikers had freedom. That’s what Pin had meant, I thought, when he spoke about being able to just get on his bike and ride somewhere with his brothers. That part had sounded nice honestly. But not nice enough to make me forget that teenagers were missing and someone was responsible.
I hadn’t learned much else about the club. I had gained a lot more intel on Pin. Like he was raised by a single mother, but there was some tension there. I had seen it in his eyes. He liked Shark Tank and was funny too. And a good kisser, but then I had known that before. The other bikers were like his blood.
I sighed and started to change my clothes. There was really only one thing to be done. I had to spend more time with Pin and gain his trust. That was the only way I was going to learn more about Outlaw Souls. I couldn’t complain. I was going to enjoy spending time with Pin. In fact, it was possible that I was going to have too much fun.
When I emerged from my bedroom, he was sitting up on the couch, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He ran one hand through his rumpled hair, and my stomach somersaulted. God, he was cute in the morning.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey,” he said. “Sorry I stayed the night.”
“It’s ok,” I said. “It was nice even.”
“I know, but I didn’t mean to.” His mouth had pressed into a stern line as if he was mad at himself. I didn’t want him to beat himself up. I had wanted him to stay.
I flashed a sunny smile as I walked over. “Then let’s pretend that you left and then just came back really early.”
That made him chuckle. I was getting good at cheering him up. He had trust issues, that was clear. He didn’t like getting close to anyone, especially in a romantic way. I was going to have to get him to let down his walls just a little bit if I was ever going to gain useful information about the club. Being able to make him smile was a good start. We had a ways to go, but I did love a challenge.
“Alright,” Pin said. “I came back early to make you breakfast.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said. “Where’s your frying pan? I’ll make eggs.”
He stood up and headed towards my kitchen with a downright sexy confidence. I was a terrible cook. I lived off of microwave meals and takeout leftovers. I showed Pin the frying pan and told him he could have free reign of my fridge. He pulled out the eggs, grabbed some onions, tomatoes, and cheese and then set to work.
I decided I would make coffee since that was the one culinary thing that I could do quite well. I watched Pin while I scooped the grinds into my machine. He was so tall and muscled, but he looked comfortable over a stovetop. The amount of focus he gave to dicing onions was endearing.
“So when did you pick up your cooking skills?” I asked.
“Ok, I don’t have skills,” Pin said. “I just know how to make a few solid dishes. Breakfast omelet, pasta with
sauce, chicken and pesto. That kind of thing.”
“That’s more than I know,” I said.
Pin gave me a wry look. “I’m not surprised after I saw the random sweaters in your oven.”
“It’s ideal storage space!” I protested.
Pin just shook his head and continued his work. We sat down at my small table to eat, and I had to give him credit. The eggs scrambled up with the onions, cheese and tomatoes were amazing. I told him as much.
“Would have been better with bacon or ham,” he said.
“Next time.” I didn’t miss his pleased expression at the idea of a next time.
“Your coffee is good too,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said.
After we had finished eating, we cleaned up. It was nice, but it was getting all a bit humdrum. I had never acted like this much of a married couple with a guy I had just met. I was wondering what came next. Did we just say goodbye? Or were we going to make plans?
Pin lingered over drying the final dish. He pursed his lips as if he was trying to make a tough decision. At last, he spoke. “So have you ever ridden a bike before?”
“No,” I said. “They’re just so loud and I never knew anyone who had one.”
“Mine’s outside now,” Pin said. “Wanna ride somewhere?”
A giddy surge of excitement rose within me and I clapped my hands in excitement. “Really? Right now?”
“Sure,” Pin said. “I always have an extra helmet, and you don’t need to worry, I’m an experienced rider.”
I was practically hopping from foot to foot with anticipation. I was born a thrill-seeker, so I never said no to something that might give me a rush of adrenaline. I had tried skydiving, rock climbing, and plenty of cliff jumps. But a motorcycle was unexplored territory.
“Ok, what shoes should I wear?” I asked. “I don’t own a leather jacket, is that ok?”
“Sneakers or boots are fine,” he said, chuckling at my rapid questions. “And a leather jacket is not required. Just wear something sturdy that will protect you from the wind.”
I let out a little cry of excitement and ran to my room to get a jacket and shoes. I had abandoned my cool girl detective visage, but I couldn’t help it. He probably thought I was a total dork.
When we went outside to the bike, Pin gave me a quick rundown of all the parts. The brakes, gas, gears. I appreciated the lesson. I wouldn’t have wanted to just get plopped onto a machine without knowing how it worked.
When he was done with the explanation, Pin got on the bike and told me to hop on behind. I made sure the helmet was secure before sliding into place and wrapping my arms around Pin’s chest.
Not even my glee over the motorbike could make me unaware of how close we were, with my chest pressed against his back. It felt good, like I was about to be hurled into the unknown, but I had Pin as a life raft.
Then with a huge rattle of noise, the bike came to life. I gripped Pin even harder as he pushed the bike out onto the road. Then we were off, accelerating faster than I thought possible.
The rush hit me even harder than I had expected. As we picked up more and more speed, I felt like I had left all the pesky heavy parts of my body behind on the curb. As if my body had been reduced just to movement, so it could run as fast as my spirit.
I gripped Pin’s jacket in my fists and let out a yelp of joy. The wind yanked the noise out of my throat, and even that gave me another jolt of adrenaline.
Then I leaned my head against Pin’s upper back and closed my eyes, just letting the sensations wash over me. It was different from skydiving. The rush was more contained and controlled. It felt safer, but the feeling that you were free and alive was the same.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that we were riding along the coast, the beach stretching in front of us as far as we could see. I soaked in the view from this new vantage point.
Pin pulled into a small lot by the boardwalk and parked. I jumped off the bike and pulled the helmet from my head. My hair was probably a mess from being stuck under the big black helmet, but I didn’t care. “That was incredible!”
“You liked it?” Pin asked.
“Liked it? I loved it,” I said.
He grinned at my obvious joy. “I thought you might.”
“Seriously, I’m this close to buying one secondhand,” I said. “My parents would flip if they ever found out, but that felt too good.”
“You’re such an adrenaline junkie,” Pin said. “I can’t believe you never tried a bike before.”
I shrugged. “I just didn’t think I was a biker person.”
It was the truth plain and simple. I had never seen a group of bikers and thought, “Ah, yes, now that’s where I belong.” But one ride behind Pin had me rethinking that.
“You might need some lessons before you’re ready for your own bike,” Pin said. “I’m happy to teach you.”
I threw my arms out to show how ready I was. “When can we start?”
Pin reached out and grabbed one of my hands, seemingly on impulse. He pulled me close to him and placed a big kiss on my lips. It was a fun quick kiss. The kind of kiss you gave your significant other in public, just because you can’t help yourself.
He pulled back, and I smiled to let him know I was ok with it. He kept holding my hand as he led me towards the boardwalk.
“That’s one of my favorite rides,” Pin said. “I like to have the highway under me and the ocean to my side.”
“It was beautiful,” I said.
“And there’s a place over here that has the best ice cream,” he said.
The sun was out, and it was the perfect day for ice cream. I never would have guessed that a mint chocolate chip cone tasted best after riding several miles on the bike of a bike with a helmet making you sweat. Pin and I sat on a bench and enjoyed our cones.
When I was a little girl, my parents would ask me what I wanted to do with my free time. I would wake up on a Saturday, and my mother would say, “What should we do today?” My dad would say, “You pick our activity.”
And every single time I would answer the same way: “Something we’ve never done before.”
My parents would get frustrated. They would want me to come up with specifics, but I didn’t have specific plans in mind, I just wanted something new.
“What about the park?” my dad would say. “You like the park.”
“Or we could do finger painting,” my mom would say. “You enjoyed that last time.”
They were right. I did like the park. I did like finger painting. But I had already done those things.
I don’t know why I thought of that sitting next to Pin near the beach. And once I remembered, I started to wonder when my parents had just stopped bothering to ask. Them not asking hadn’t changed anything. I still knew what I wanted.
The question tickling the back of my mind was if it might be ok to do the same thing more than once with a person who was interesting enough to make every single time feel different. Because, maybe, I did want to take another ride with Pin. And maybe I would be more than happy to take the same route and get off at the same boardwalk and go get the same ice cream. If it was with Pin.
I sighed and stared out over the waves. They were a deep blue today, and the tips sparkled and gleamed like buried treasure. That question was not going to be answered in one day.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Pin asked.
I glanced up at him through my lashes. “They’re not for sale.”
Then I reached over and grabbed his hand and just held it in mine. I would start worrying about the investigation later. I would wonder about what feelings were real and which emotions were just part of the case.
I would think about all that later.
For now, I just wanted to be a girl sitting with a guy, after a pretty amazing date.
Fifteen
Pin
A perfect hook-up was one thing. A perfect evening spent watching TV and chatting, while harder to come by, was still possib
le.
But a perfect hook-up, followed by a perfect evening, followed by a perfect morning? I was starting to wonder if Claire could be real.
After I dropped Claire back at her place, I headed home. I didn’t mess around this time. I knew I was going to want to see her again. For sex, maybe, but also just to be with her. So I texted her right away that I had a great time, and would like to do it again. Kim had been right about that. Claire wasn’t the girl you played games with.
Claire had answered she was busy with work stuff, but she could maybe do dinner the day after next. That was good. It gave me time to think over what was happening because it wasn’t casual anymore.
Things had shifted during our evening of chatting and watching TV. Or maybe they had changed while we slept, fully clothed, in each other’s arms. Or perhaps things with Claire had been different from the moment we met, and I had just been in denial.
I couldn’t push it to the side anymore and tell myself that Claire was just another girl to hook up with. I had always known she could be dangerous, but now I had to admit that I was officially in danger of falling for her hard.
The thing was, the thought of falling no longer filled me with fear and revulsion. I didn’t have terrifying images of Claire worming her way into my heart only to break it. I didn’t foresee a future of cheating and betrayal.
Instead, I saw lazy afternoons curled up with Claire on her couch. I saw us planning long bike trips. I could see us celebrating anniversaries and even moving in together. It was reckless to think that way, but I couldn’t help myself. The crazy thing was, it didn’t even bother me. I didn’t feel like I was letting myself down or being weak. I felt good. For the first time in a long time, I believed in something.
At the same time, my cold and practical side knew that this was huge. A lifetime of philosophy on love and relationships was being tossed out the window. And yes, it felt good, but that didn’t mean it was good. Or maybe it was good now, but would it be good in six months? Or a year?
Whenever my mom met a new guy, things were always good. Sure, I saw the red flags, but my mother never did. It was a chilling thought, but maybe I was in my mother’s shoes. Maybe there were red flags all over Claire, and I just couldn’t see them. I was blind.