Page 25 of Oz Wisdom

"Taylor?"

She twisted toward Oz. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Oz closed the gap between them and pulled her to his chest. "You’ll do fine. Take a deep breath and stand tall. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

How did he always seem to know her thoughts? Had she become that transparent?

He huffed a laugh. "You've been avoiding the subject since we left Louisiana. It's obvious you’re hesitant to see your family.”

Her arms seemed to slide around him of their own free will and she relaxed into him. How she wished this was real. That last night was real. That it was possible to find someone like the men in those books he wrote. No matter the past, or the twisted craziness that life pulled you into, there was someone who would love you despite it all.

But that wasn't real, and it was time for reality. She stepped back. "Let's do this."

***

The ride to her parent's home was quiet. There was so much she wanted to say to Oz. Things she needed to thank him for. Things she hoped he would say to her. As crazy as it was, she wasn't ready to leave him behind. After Drifter, she'd vowed to never trust a man. Especially a biker. But this short amount of time had taught her not to judge anyone by their looks or association. Not all bikers were the same. Not all prim and proper socialites such as her family were dependable, either.

Taylor watched house after house fade past the truck window. The truck turned and she sought out the street sign. This was it. Her world would take yet another turn in minutes down the road.

Oz's hand covered hers. "I dropped the phone in your bag. Keep it. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

She looked over and smiled. "Will you call me?"

"Every day if you want."

She smiled even though she knew in her mind he wouldn’t call. Or maybe he would for a while. "I'd like that."

The light squeeze from his fingers was filled with needed hope and courage.

"Here we are."

Taylor stared straight ahead. White brick. The illusion of welcoming and wholesomeness. What a lie. She gasped as the door opened next to her. Oz. She smiled back and glanced down at his hand stretched to help her out. Her heart raced. She felt as if she may combust at any moment. That was, if she didn’t throw up first. She patted her cheeks. Surely, she was sweating as hot as she felt.

Oz stepped closer.

Suddenly, she stood at the front door. How she got here, she couldn't say. Her head pounded. Her memory failed her. Why had she thought this was a good idea?

“Breathe,” Oz said as he rang the doorbell. "It's only your family. Parents love you no matter what. You'll be fine."

The door opened and her mother appeared. "Taylor, how lovely of you to drop by." She looked toward Oz then to the luggage by his feet. "Are you planning to stay a while?"

"Hi Mother. I called telling you I wanted to come home."

Her father strolled into the foyer. "Who is it?"

"It's Taylor, dear. And a man."

“Father, this is Oz. He's a friend.”

"What are we crowding the door for? Come in,” her father boomed.

"But dear." Mrs. Arison nudged her husband, gesturing toward the luggage. "If I'm not mistaken Taylor wants to stay a while.”

"Well now.” Mr. Arison paused, turning to face Taylor and Oz. "I'm not sure we can accommodate that. And we don't even know this man. How can you expect us to welcome a stranger into our home?”

"It's just me needing a place to stay. Just until I get on my feet again."

"Look at this.”

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