Fool For You - By Megan Noelle Page 0,97

with which he maneuvered the heavy motorcycle and the way his jeans tightened very nicely over his rear end lit a fire deep within that had been dormant all week. There was a black, full coverage helmet on the back; Corey picked it up and held it out to me. I cocked an eyebrow at the gesture.

“I never let anyone ride with me, so I only have this one. I want you to wear it.”

“Well, why do I get to ride it then?” I asked as the corner of his mouth twitched up.

“You’re special.” Cue the warm fuzzy feeling.

“Special….as in quit eating the paste?” He let his head fall back laughing—Lord, I missed that sound. He took hold of my hand and pulled me to him.

“No, as in if something happens during this ride I want...” He trailed off, shaking his head at his words. “I need you to be safe.” Corey secured the helmet around me and smiled. “Looks pretty damn cute if you ask me.”

I sighed; there was no reason to fight it. The reason he wanted me to wear it was one of the sweetest things I’ve heard. Besides, I’d missed being around Corey and didn’t want to kick start our night with another argument.

Corey offered up his hand to help me steady myself so I could swing my leg over; I sat down and put my feet up on the pegs. Corey reached behind him and brought my arms around his waist. With that he gave the bike a kick, gunned the throttle and off we went into the night. This was my first time on the back of a bike and the first couple miles were borderline terrifying. The wind whipped past us and the bike moved with the slightest shift in movement beneath us. My arms squeezed so tight around his waist I wondered if he could breathe but he seemed calm—relaxed even.

The ride scared me. The only light in front of us being his single headlight, but being this close to Corey took my fear away. Eventually I found myself actually enjoying the rush and speed. The wind howled past us silencing everything but my own thoughts and all of them were centered on the man I was holding onto.

We rode up a hill and pulled off at a spot overlooking the lake. A single picnic table rested against the grass and a swing hanging from a tree branch resembled the one in my backyard. The moon shone brightly in the background casting the only light on this picture perfect place. Corey steadied the bike and I flipped my leg over and pulled the helmet off my head. I held it out to him with one hand while I furiously worked to smooth my hair back into place. He smiled, taking the helmet from me, and returned his hand to lace with mine.

“So, you said you wanted to talk. I just figured this would be a pretty good place, and it’s private.”

“It’s absolutely breathtaking” I replied as we walked hand in hand to the picnic table. I removed mine from his and pointed for him to take a seat. The confusion wasn’t hidden from his face, but he took a seat on top of the picnic table and pulled off his fingerless biker gloves.

I stood in front of him, exhaled a huge breath, and worked up the courage to say all that needed to be said.

“You know the other day when you told me Ollie didn’t deserve me?” Corey nodded. “I thought about what you said and I realized, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. You’re the single best person I’ve ever met and I’m nothing more than a fucked-up mess.”

I saw Corey’s face change to protest my words. My hand rose up to keep him from cutting in—I needed to get this out. I began pacing in the space in front of him.

“Every single relationship has played a part in screwing me up. Some hurt more than others, but I have never once experienced a normal relationship, a normal break-up or known what it feels like to be loved unconditionally. Constant heartbreak has built up this bulletproof shell that I never wanted to remove again. All of it stems from my childhood; what a shock, right?” I asked with a laugh to lighten the mood. Corey didn’t smile. He seemed to be hurting for me.

“Growing up, my parents were together for a while, but they had one of the most toxic

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