jump on the back of a motorcycle if not with you?
“No, I haven’t. And I’m not in any hurry to,” I shot back. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Come on. You’d have fun if you’d just give it a try.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, yeah? History has proven quite the opposite. Usually when you talk me into something, I end up regretting it.”
“Name one example. Right now.”
The memory of the awful high school bonfire he’d dragged me to his senior year flashed before my eyes, but I couldn’t get into that with him right then.
“I have plenty of examples.” I stood firm on my decision of hell no. “None of which I have time to name off right now.”
I turned to bolt away from the temptation of him and the bike as fast as I could while he called out after me. “Laney, wait. We can take the car if it bothers you so much. But I really think you’d like it if you’d just give it a chance!”
My heels clacked along the concrete with panicked determination as I fled toward the light. I bolted through the nearest opening of the garage out onto the busy sidewalks and up the block before stopping to try and flag down a cab. I figured the further away I was from Oliver, the less likely he would be to come running after me.
Of course, the moment I was climbing into the backseat of the first taxi to stop for me, my phone dinged. I dug it out of my purse and swiped to see the message from Oliver.
Oliver: One of these days, I’m going to get you to take a walk on the wild side with me.
Oliver: Chicken emoji.
I rolled my eyes and tossed the phone back in my bag with a vengeance. Sinking against the backseat, momentarily ignoring how greasy and unsanitary it was, I began to wonder if staying with Oliver was such a good idea. I had made my peace with our friendship never being anything more, but was I really prepared to see him in nothing but his boxers in the mornings? Especially if he was going to be casually tossing around invitations to “take a walk on the wild side” with him—all completely innocent to him, but with a whole different, much more suggestive meaning for me.
I started rolling words around in my head, rehearsing how I might begin to explain to him that he and I weren’t the same, and he just wasn’t going to understand it. He could afford to go out and have fun and take risks and “walk on the wild side.” Because in the end, he would always be Oliver Humphries—the most popular guy in school turned one of the most desirable men in New York City. He had the safety net of his good looks and perfect body and family’s money—always ready to catch him if he fell. I wasn’t so lucky.
As much as a huge part of me wanted to climb on the back of that bike with Oliver, feel my body pressed against his, the wind in my face, I couldn’t. My thoughts painfully drifted back to the many bullies of my childhood. What they’d said had scarred me, although I was much more self-assured now. With Oliver, though, it was different. Those niggling doubts crept into my mind like a punch to the gut. I couldn’t help nor stop that small insecure part of me from wondering about the what-ifs.
Would Oliver feel too many curves or my soft belly against his back, or worse, what if he thought, “Oh, my God, why’s this motorcycle not speeding up? This girl behind me is slowing me down!” I knew I couldn’t suffer that kind of humiliation.
My heart sank in my chest as another thought occurred to me. But most of all, I knew I couldn’t possibly handle the closeness or making another memory of having Oliver feeling so wonderful, and that memory messing with my mind days on end. I couldn’t bear it. Any of it.
I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts. No. I was actually far from lucky, thanks to the fire that destroyed everything I owned, and the harsh reality became far too clear as the cab pulled up in front of the black, scorned appearance of my building.
“Can you wait here a moment?” I asked the driver, while I stood in shock, staring at what would take at the very