your life, right?”
9
Ethan had the feeling Brett didn’t talk about her past with many people, and while it had been difficult to share his own history, he was glad he’d done it, if it made her comfortable telling him about hers. He was intrigued, and he liked the idea that, if he couldn’t have her, he could at least get to know her.
“My dad started the Suns, but he never really built it into anything. He raised Martin and me on dirt bikes until we were old enough to have street bikes, and then we rode. He invited Martin to join the club, but obviously I wasn’t able to. Still, he taught me everything about bikes and helped me get through a business degree so I could help with setting up whatever business they got into.”
She toyed with her fork but didn’t eat. “Dad never did care about what the doctors said, and his cholesterol was through the roof. It wasn’t exactly a shock when he had a heart attack, but it was still hard. I was never close to my mother. They were divorced, and Martin and I were close, so we just bonded even more. After he died, the Suns closed shop very quickly, and everyone disbanded. Martin couldn’t see the club that Dad put so much time into fall apart and he decided to start it back up again. For a long time he had his hands full trying to turn the Suns into something. And he managed. He pulled together a few of his close friends and busted his ass to get a little business going. But they didn’t want me around, and it sort of put a wedge between me and Martin.”
She brushed her hair back from her face, and Ethan didn’t miss the sadness in her eyes. “How long ago did your father die?” They’d only heard of the Suns a little over a year ago, but it sounded like Brett had been going through this for a long time.
“Almost four years ago.” She sighed. “It wasn’t so bad, once things were under control. But over the last year, I know there have been struggles, especially with money, and Martin had to pull away again. Now, with him gone…” She trailed off.
“You feel lost.”
She nodded. “Alone.” Now, she stabbed her steak and ripped into it with her knife. “It’s alright. I’ve been doing well on my own. And the last thing I need is to try to make nice with my mother. She hates motorcycles and leather and everything I grew up loving.”
Ethan smiled. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you don’t have to be alone.”
She blinked at him, looking confused. “Ethan, I thought we—”
He waved a hand. “You know, I’m usually really well spoken, and it seems like I keep using the wrong words with you. What I mean is, I’d like to think we’re friends. And if you want, there are a couple of the old ladies I could introduce you to that I think you’d get along with really well.”
Her shoulders sagged, and she just kept staring at him, like he chose the wrongs words again.
“That would be nice.”
By the time they left, the mood was lighter, and he had to admit, he liked the way she felt on the back of his bike. She knew how to ride, and she leaned into the turns with him, holding on just tight enough to feel intimate without clinging like she didn’t trust him. But the warmth of her chest pressed against his back had him clenching his jaw as he remembered how her breasts felt in his hands.
Would he ever get past this biting, torturous desire for her?
The sun was still up, and he didn’t want to go home, not yet. He wanted to commit this moment to memory, the feeling of Brett on the back of his bike, of her trust in him. And he took to bike onto the highway out west. They rode and rode, out past the buildings and sky-scrappers, out past the rows of homes. Over the empty hilly canyon roads where they were surrounded by nothing, and he could only feel her arms tighten around him. He felt her burden release on his back as she sobbed and shook. And they would keep going until she let it all go. She carried the burden alone for too long.
At some point after the sky turned purple, and they made their way back. When he pulled