Full Contact
Page 31
“I thought it was a great fight,” I say to Ray after my tongue untangles. “I watched every minute.”
“I know.”
“You saw me?”
“I always see you.” His deep voice rumbles through me, warming me to my toes. “You want…I’ll take you home. I’ve got my bike.”
“No motorcycles.” Tag glares, first at Ray and then at me. “First, you can’t ride without a helmet. It’s against the law in California. Second, motorcycles are dangerous. The coroner’s office has shelves lining the walls filled with motorcycle helmets from accidents. Look what happened last time.”
“Last time?” Ray frowns.
“She has a reckless side,” Tag says. “When she was seventeen, she started seeing some biker wannabe. I told her not to go, but she didn’t listen. He took her up to Napa Valley at eighty miles an hour and then crashed his bike on the way down. Only reason they weren’t killed was ’cause they were wearing helmets. Sia was so badly bruised up, she couldn’t go to school for a week.”
Ray lifts an eyebrow and I shrug.
“It was a mechanical problem, not a driving error. Other than the accident, it was the biggest thrill of my life.”
“I brought an extra helmet.” He glances over at Tag, the faintest hint of a smile playing across his lips before he turns those beautiful blue eyes on me. “In case you were here.”
My heart lifts, sings, dances. Not a chance encounter. He was looking for me. I have a second chance.
“Sia.” I catch the warning in Tag’s tone. Dangerous man. Dangerous bike. It’s been a long time since I did dangerous.
For a moment, I’m torn. Do I stay safe with Tag, or do I go with the man who makes my heart pound and my knees weak? A man who can make me feel both ecstasy and despair in the span of a heartbeat? Even though I feel I can trust him, how can I trust myself when I misjudged Luke so badly? Not once since that night at the frat house have I even considered being with a man as dominant as Ray. I thought I could never allow myself to be that vulnerable again. Instead, I went for guys like Charlie and James: risk free and risk averse. Easygoing to the point of always letting me take the lead, they demanded nothing and never questioned why I was holding back. They treated me like porcelain and under their sympathy, I cracked.
But since then, I never once really felt alive—the way I did that day in Napa Valley. The way I feel when I’m with Ray. Free. Normal. What if I had just one more taste?
“I’ll go with Ray.”
Chapter 10
Surprise
“You’ll go with Ray?”
Tag launches into a rant to end all rants. Motorcycles aren’t safe. Ray has just come out of a fight. I don’t know Ray. On and on it goes until I want to melt into a humiliated puddle. Ray listens, amused, until Tag pauses for a breath.
“She’ll be safe with me, Fuzz. You have my word. I would never put her in danger.”
Only slightly mollified, Tag glances from me to Ray and back to me. Then he presses his lips together, huffs a good-bye, and walks across the street to his Pathfinder. Moments later, he drives past, revving his motor in displeasure.
“You wanna take a walk?” Ray slips an arm around me, as if that awful moment between us never happened. “I need to cool down before I get on the bike.”
“Sure.” My stomach gets all fluttery, like we’re on a date, as he leads me down to the waterfront. We’re going for a walk. A real walk. Like I do with my normal dates, except the guy has usually come from work and not a bloody underground fight, and smells of starch and laundry detergent and not blood, sweat, and sawdust.
During the day, Jack London Square, an open-air plaza on the Oakland waterfront, buzzes with activity. Jess and I have spent many Sunday afternoons at the farmer’s market, riding around on our rental bikes and eating ice cream as we watch the container ships load and unload. At night, we’ve watched movies under the stars, danced, and closed down restaurants with groups of friends. Tonight, however, it is unusually quiet. A soft breeze blows off the water, bringing with it the faint scent of diesel and crisp ocean air, the quiet disturbed only by the loud clatter of the occasional Amtrak train.
“Sorry,” I say, as we skirt around a couple walking hand in hand heading toward the ferry. “Having a brother is sometimes a bit of a pain.”
Ray shakes his head. “He loves you. Don’t take that for granted.”
“Do you have a brother?”
His arm tightens around me. “Long time ago. He died when I was eight.”
My heart squeezes in my chest and I stop in my tracks, forcing Ray to stop too. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have brought it up if I’d known.”
He tugs me along, heading along the waterfront toward the archway. “’S okay. We were close, like you and Tag.”
“What happened to him?”
Ray draws in a deep breath and looks out over the water. “For part of my childhood, before he died, we lived in Indiana. We spent all our free time riding the trails in the forest behind our house on our dirt bikes. There was a hill in the middle. Damn steep. Always the best part of the ride.”
I slip my arm around his waist, just to let him know I’m here. And although I’ve walked the waterfront hundreds of times, I let him take the lead.
“I was older by a year, so I always went first. Checked the trail to make sure it was safe. One afternoon, Scott raced out of the house before me. I chased after him, but he was damn fast that day and he got to the hill first. I told him to wait, let me check the trail, but he didn’t. There was a rock halfway down. He hit the front brake by mistake and went right over the handlebars. I saw it like it was in slow motion, knew it was going to be bad and there was nothing I could do to stop it. He landed on his head. No helmet. Didn’t make it…”
“I know.”
“You saw me?”
“I always see you.” His deep voice rumbles through me, warming me to my toes. “You want…I’ll take you home. I’ve got my bike.”
“No motorcycles.” Tag glares, first at Ray and then at me. “First, you can’t ride without a helmet. It’s against the law in California. Second, motorcycles are dangerous. The coroner’s office has shelves lining the walls filled with motorcycle helmets from accidents. Look what happened last time.”
“Last time?” Ray frowns.
“She has a reckless side,” Tag says. “When she was seventeen, she started seeing some biker wannabe. I told her not to go, but she didn’t listen. He took her up to Napa Valley at eighty miles an hour and then crashed his bike on the way down. Only reason they weren’t killed was ’cause they were wearing helmets. Sia was so badly bruised up, she couldn’t go to school for a week.”
Ray lifts an eyebrow and I shrug.
“It was a mechanical problem, not a driving error. Other than the accident, it was the biggest thrill of my life.”
“I brought an extra helmet.” He glances over at Tag, the faintest hint of a smile playing across his lips before he turns those beautiful blue eyes on me. “In case you were here.”
My heart lifts, sings, dances. Not a chance encounter. He was looking for me. I have a second chance.
“Sia.” I catch the warning in Tag’s tone. Dangerous man. Dangerous bike. It’s been a long time since I did dangerous.
For a moment, I’m torn. Do I stay safe with Tag, or do I go with the man who makes my heart pound and my knees weak? A man who can make me feel both ecstasy and despair in the span of a heartbeat? Even though I feel I can trust him, how can I trust myself when I misjudged Luke so badly? Not once since that night at the frat house have I even considered being with a man as dominant as Ray. I thought I could never allow myself to be that vulnerable again. Instead, I went for guys like Charlie and James: risk free and risk averse. Easygoing to the point of always letting me take the lead, they demanded nothing and never questioned why I was holding back. They treated me like porcelain and under their sympathy, I cracked.
But since then, I never once really felt alive—the way I did that day in Napa Valley. The way I feel when I’m with Ray. Free. Normal. What if I had just one more taste?
“I’ll go with Ray.”
Chapter 10
Surprise
“You’ll go with Ray?”
Tag launches into a rant to end all rants. Motorcycles aren’t safe. Ray has just come out of a fight. I don’t know Ray. On and on it goes until I want to melt into a humiliated puddle. Ray listens, amused, until Tag pauses for a breath.
“She’ll be safe with me, Fuzz. You have my word. I would never put her in danger.”
Only slightly mollified, Tag glances from me to Ray and back to me. Then he presses his lips together, huffs a good-bye, and walks across the street to his Pathfinder. Moments later, he drives past, revving his motor in displeasure.
“You wanna take a walk?” Ray slips an arm around me, as if that awful moment between us never happened. “I need to cool down before I get on the bike.”
“Sure.” My stomach gets all fluttery, like we’re on a date, as he leads me down to the waterfront. We’re going for a walk. A real walk. Like I do with my normal dates, except the guy has usually come from work and not a bloody underground fight, and smells of starch and laundry detergent and not blood, sweat, and sawdust.
During the day, Jack London Square, an open-air plaza on the Oakland waterfront, buzzes with activity. Jess and I have spent many Sunday afternoons at the farmer’s market, riding around on our rental bikes and eating ice cream as we watch the container ships load and unload. At night, we’ve watched movies under the stars, danced, and closed down restaurants with groups of friends. Tonight, however, it is unusually quiet. A soft breeze blows off the water, bringing with it the faint scent of diesel and crisp ocean air, the quiet disturbed only by the loud clatter of the occasional Amtrak train.
“Sorry,” I say, as we skirt around a couple walking hand in hand heading toward the ferry. “Having a brother is sometimes a bit of a pain.”
Ray shakes his head. “He loves you. Don’t take that for granted.”
“Do you have a brother?”
His arm tightens around me. “Long time ago. He died when I was eight.”
My heart squeezes in my chest and I stop in my tracks, forcing Ray to stop too. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have brought it up if I’d known.”
He tugs me along, heading along the waterfront toward the archway. “’S okay. We were close, like you and Tag.”
“What happened to him?”
Ray draws in a deep breath and looks out over the water. “For part of my childhood, before he died, we lived in Indiana. We spent all our free time riding the trails in the forest behind our house on our dirt bikes. There was a hill in the middle. Damn steep. Always the best part of the ride.”
I slip my arm around his waist, just to let him know I’m here. And although I’ve walked the waterfront hundreds of times, I let him take the lead.
“I was older by a year, so I always went first. Checked the trail to make sure it was safe. One afternoon, Scott raced out of the house before me. I chased after him, but he was damn fast that day and he got to the hill first. I told him to wait, let me check the trail, but he didn’t. There was a rock halfway down. He hit the front brake by mistake and went right over the handlebars. I saw it like it was in slow motion, knew it was going to be bad and there was nothing I could do to stop it. He landed on his head. No helmet. Didn’t make it…”
