Page 21 of Crash into me
Finally, Kate lets herself have some freedom as loads of people enjoy their night. Her and Ryder are in their own little world, and Callum is standing off to the side, talking to other racers.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Foster’s jaw is sharp as a knife; he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to scare me away, but he’s a thin thread away from throwing me on his bike and taking off into the sunset with me.
But it’s black as night, with no sunset in sight. And he can’t whisk away what isn’t his.
“So,” he says, “how’d you like it?”
Oh, bike night? I love it! The sights, sounds, smells. You. “It was pretty cool.” I shrug.
He looks down, laughing to himself. “Wanna ride?” He’s acting calm, cool, and collected, but me being in his domain is obviously messing with him. His normally arrogant, cocky aura is overshadowed by his love and want for me, and that kills me.
I really shouldn’t. “I’m okay.”
His midnight eyes bore into mine. “Skyler, I promise you’ll love it, and I won’t try a thing. Just a quick lap around the track and I’ll bring you right back here.” Just give me you for one night, is what he meant to say. It’s what the stance in his shoulders says, the way he’s ready to wrap his arms around me and never let go.
Again, I really shouldn’t.
I stand, dusting off my shorts. “I’ll ride with him.” I nod my head towards Callum, playing a game with Foster that only I’m aware of.
He’s taken aback, shaking his head. “The fuck you wi—” He breathes in. “If that’s what makes you happy.”
Oh, wasn’t expecting that. “Umm, I’m joking.” I gesture to Foster’s bike. “Is this thing safe?”
A laugh filled with summer nights and beach rides escapes him. “You asked that …” He stops himself from reminiscing. “Yeah, you’ll be safe.”
And so I don’t stop myself as he pulls a helmet over my blonde hair.
I don’t react when he touches my locks, his sad eyes roaming over where the red streak was and remembering that night in the bathroom.
The night he found out the truth and fixed everything.
I don’t run when he climbs on his bike and helps me get behind him.
I don’t jerk away when his hands grab mine, nor as he folds them around his strong, inked waist. “Hold on,” he tells me breathlessly.
And for a fleeting moment, as we race down the road, I lean my head against his back and pretend that I’m still his.
I pretend that the world isn’t cruel.
I pretend that everything is right in my world.
* * *
As Kate sleeps,I walk around the marble halls of my house. It’s quiet at this time of night, and the only sound is coming from the fountain in the front yard.
After I got off Foster’s bike, we both awkwardly stood there staring at each other with a million unspoken words between us. It wasn’t until Kate pulled me away that I filled my lungs with air. Only when no one was looking and we were on the way home blasting music did I allow myself to belt the lyrics, screaming into the night.
I still haven’t wound down, and that’s why I’m pacing the halls.
I walk around the garden, replaying the night in my mind. The way I felt lying against his back and wishing the helmet wasn’t in the way so I could have felt his warmth. How he pulled his signature move of resting his hand on my knee when we were going a little slower. How he moved it too quickly to keep me comfortable.
What he doesn’t understand is that he is my comfortable. Him pulling away feels wrong. This house feels wrong. This stupid fucking fountain feels wrong.
I collapse onto the concrete, glaring at the little statues that dot the area. They’re all so happy with their smiles. They’re like me, imprisoned, stuck here. Formed with a bright smile on their face.
I pull out my phone and open my music app, needing to drown out my thoughts. My stomach tightens when I see it was edited an hour ago, a new song added. Foster.