Page 19 of Cedarwood Cabin

I grip Dax tighter, my fingers digging into him. Surprisingly, he doesn't seem bothered by my hold. My heart pounds in my chest as he leans into the road's curves.

I am amazed at his skills as he maneuvers the motorcycle. We leave town and head through the forest, the trees a blur of green as we speed past. I let out a little, excited giggle. Dax hears and lets out a deep chuckle.

Effortlessly, Dax pulls off a quick maneuver and turns the bike around, the tire kicking up smoke as we speed back into town. I am pure adrenaline and my heart is going crazy.

Dax slowly drives down my street and pulls up outside my house.

How does he know where I live?

He helps me off the bike and removes the helmet from my head. I quickly pat down my hair, hoping it doesn't look a mess. That was truly an experience, the rush. It felt like being on an intense roller coaster. The streetlight shines down on us as Dax leans up against his bike.

“Fun?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.

“Uh, yes!” I bite the inside of my cheek. “How did you know where I lived?”

Dax crosses his arms and replies, “It's a small town…”

I fidget nervously. He moves closer, towering over me, and I instinctively look up.

“Whoa, you have different colored eyes…cool,” he remarks.

Dax reaches out and brushes a stray strand of my hair away from my face. I feel a spark between us for a moment. His light brown hair falls soft on his forehead, framing his strong jawline. His golden brown eyes seem to glow. His features are sharp. He is more than just handsome—he is a force of nature; drawing me in with an irresistible pull that leaves me breathless.

Is it bad that I want him to kiss me? No, Flora. What am I thinking? First Marty, now him?

Dax withdraws and his gaze shifts to my house. “You better go in,” he whispers.

I don’t want to look away from Dax's eyes, but I turn around and glance up at the window. My father stands at the window looking down, his expression unreadable.

I pivot back around to say goodbye to Dax. However, he is already straddling his bike. He starts the engine and speeds off down the road.

“Bye, then,” I murmur, confused, raising my hand in the air.

I sigh as I walk up to the front door. I really don’t want to face my father—I know I am going to be met with questions.

His face darkens as he holds the door open for me. I take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen.

“So. That was the guy from the bar brawl. Right?” he accuses sharply, following me.

I don’t know what to say. I freeze.

“You said you were going to the store. Why were you on his bike?”

I cross my arms and feel defiance rise within me. “You said I needed to make friends, right?” I retort.

“Yes. But not with people who get into bar brawls. Not people like him!” he replies, slamming his hand down on the kitchen table.

“It’s not a big deal. He got into one fight!”

“People like him are a big deal. They’re bad news, Flora!” My father raises the volume of his voice.

“You fucking wanted me to make friends. I start to and you fucking hate it!” I shout back.

I can feel frustration welling up inside me.

“Don’t you dare swear at me! You are not to see him again, Flora!” His voice is firm.

I clench my fist and turn away, not wanting to look at him. “I fucking hate you right now! I’m twenty. You can’t tell me what to do!”

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