Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
I knew better than to ask what she meant when she tried to gloss over it. She'll shut down on me and probably make it impossible to talk to her for the next few days, if not longer. While I don't exactly mind the peace and quiet, it almost feels like we're starting to understand each other a little. At least she's not making my life as miserable as she used to at her father's house back in the day. Sometimes, I miss exchanging barbs, but then again, we still have that back-and-forth I came to appreciate. Perverse? Maybe, but also, no one has ever called me normal.
Why would she think that? Because of what happened last night? The last thing I'd call her is weak after she honestly tried to take a step in the right direction. The fact that she's still here and trying to build a life proves she is far from weak. That's how she sees herself, and I would bet everything in my bank account that being Callum’s daughter has something to do with it. She holds herself to a higher standard because that’s how he holds himself. He has to be tough, brutal, even ruthless. I know that through firsthand experience.
But there are different kinds of strength. Sometimes, it’s not about how hard you can hit. How steadfast you are in the face of danger. Sometimes, strength can be a matter of getting out of bed and facing life. Fuck, I’ve seen that firsthand, too. More times than I could possibly count.
I know better than to try to change her attitude through talking—it's not like talking is my strong suit, anyway.
But I can show her. And I can do that starting now.
She's waiting for me in the garage, wearing her suede jacket over her thin sweater. It should be enough to keep her warm on the ride. She stands with her arms folded, chewing her lip, tapping her toe, and eyeing the Harley like she's waiting for it to attack. “Don't forget this,” I tell her as I pull a black helmet from a box while pulling one out for me.
“Really?” Her nose wrinkles like she smells something rotten as she examines it.
“Listen. If you want to do this, you need to wear a helmet. I'm not going to negotiate.”
“This was your idea, remember?”
“Don't pretend you're not into the idea. Riding with the wind in your hair and all that.”
“It won't be in my hair if I'm wearing a helmet.”
“Put the damn thing on.” Because really, there's only so much I can stand before she pushes me to the end of my patience. “It’s a shame you can't find a job being a pesky little brat. You'd make a fortune.” She only grumbles behind me as I wheel the Harley out of the garage, locking the door behind me before continuing down the driveway.
Note to self: Invest in motion lights for nighttime. A security camera, too.
I’m not trying to play games with these little punks. How do I know they’re punks? Because I was one.
“Okay.” Once we're at the curb, I make sure her helmet is strapped securely while ignoring the light, intoxicating scent of the perfume she's wearing. It makes me want to lean in and take a deep breath. “You're all set,” I tell her, backing away before I do anything stupid.
“What should I do?”
“Just hold on to me. I'll take care of the rest.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It doesn't have to be difficult.” I swing a leg over the saddle and settle in. It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden the old girl, but everything comes back at once—memories included. A hell of a lot of memories.
She’s still standing beside me, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Do you need to visit the bathroom before we go?” I ask.
My question has its intended effect, snapping her out of her indecisiveness. “Sue me for being nervous,” she snaps. “What do I do now?”
“All you have to do is sit behind me. Arms around my waist.” It takes a moment but she climbs on, then makes a big deal of wiggling around to make herself comfortable before linking her arms around me. I can't afford to think about the sensation of feeling her body so close to mine. Her tits as they press against my back, her quick little breaths hitting the back of my neck.
Get a hold of yourself.
“Try not breaking my ribs,” I grunt when she decides to squeeze me like her life depends on it. “We won’t get very far if I puncture a lung.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
It’s not long before she squeals as the engine roars to life. “Oh… my goodness!” she adds with a laugh. “It’s very rumbly!”
“Yeah, enjoy yourself,” I advise with a laugh while adjusting my mirrors. “You ready?”