Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“What’s this for?” I ask.
“Your head.” Humor laces his tone. “You want to go for a ride? Just to rile him up?”
My eyes go wide, but I nod. Yes, yes I do.
He takes the helmet and puts it on for me, adjusting it to my head and fastening it carefully. My heart goes tha-thump as he fusses over the strap, his big fingers surprisingly nimble. He unlatches the side saddlebag and motions for me to hand him my big bag with the jackalope. When I do, he sets it in the leather case and threads the belt-like lock. Then he swings onto the bike, kicking up the stand and steadying it. “Hop on.”
Ok, this is happening. He wants me on the bike. I picked a biker for a fake boyfriend, and now I’m about to ride off with him with my ex watching.
Deke turns on the bike and revs it. The air shivers with the engine’s roar.
“Ready, babe?” he calls over the noise.
I’m not sure if he’s calling me babe in case Scott hears or if he’s just calling me babe because that’s what he calls women, but it makes me smile.
I take a deep breath and swing on behind him. He takes my hands and locks them around his front. I grab a handful of his soft t-shirt and feel a thrill at the hard muscles underneath.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
“Okay?” Deke calls over his shoulder. His cheek is curved into a grin. He’s not wearing a helmet.
“You’re not wearing a helmet,” I say. I sound like a prissy kindergarten teacher, even to my ears.
“Babe,” he says in reply, and the bike takes off with a roar. We ride right past Scott. I can’t see his face, but I can imagine his stunned rage. It is delicious. I give a little wave in his direction and then grip Deke tighter as we fly up the main drag of town—Paseo del Pueblo Norte road—and around the curve into the open night.
I never knew riding a motorcycle was so much fun. The night air is crisp and rushes all around us. Deke’s bike is a monster of leather and chrome, purring hot under me, but Deke’s even bigger. He rides with perfect ease, his big body solid and upright, blocking most of the wind. I press against him, my cheek to his leather vest. He doesn’t go too far out of town, turning down a back road to loop back. When he leans into turns, I lean with him, and the bike twines nimbly up and down the back roads of Taos.
For a moment, I think about shouting a few questions—“Where are we going? What’s the plan?”—but the sky is so vast above us, black velvet studded with diamond stars, and the night is so big and boundless, I forgot my concerns. There’s nothing but the giant man I’m holding onto, the bike rumbling under the both of us and the endless roads. Worries about work, Scott, my friends and what the hell I am doing fall away. I leave them behind like old hubcaps and alligator strips on the side of the road.
I am happy. I am free.
Deke guides the bike over a one-lane bridge and stops. I look at the babbling river just below—a tributary of the Rio Grande. Above us, through the treetops, a million stars glitter in the dark sky. It’s dark and secluded, but I’m not afraid.
“This is nice,” I say.
“Yeah.” His voice is soft. He looms over me, large but not imposing. The night air is chilly, and I should be cold, but all I feel is the heat emanating off him. Another step, and I’d be in his arms.
I met this guy less than an hour ago, and already I’ve been on his bike. I put my arms around him and held on tight. And now I’m out here, alone, just me and a stranger who already seems like a friend.
I’m perfectly content until I realize what my friends would say.
I just got on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle and let him drive away with me. Into the dark. Without any discussion of where he was going or how I would get home.
Deke
The little human gazes up at me, biting her lip. The wind kicks up, carrying her candy scent to me. I can’t get enough of it. She is literally the cutest human I’ve ever met. Everything about her makes me want to smile. And I haven’t smiled in ages.
Now that I’m alone with Sadie, the constant noise I usually tolerate from my wolf has died down. That urge toward violence—the underlying restlessness—seems to have dropped away. It’s been replaced by the urge to mark her, but that feeling I can control.
I won’t go there with sweet Sadie Diaz. I know claiming a human is an impossibility for me.