Page 37 of Forgettable in Every Way

“You do?” Because I wasn’t exactly sure if I did. Yes, I knew it was a wise move to stay away from him, but my heart felt otherwise. It wanted the dream it had dreamed of many years ago.

“Yes,” he said with meaning. “I haven’t exactly been the best mate ... I mean, person in your life,” he said, overly flustered. “Forget I said mate. There I said it again,” he groaned.

I narrowed my eyes at his odd behavior. He was usually smoother. And why all of a sudden was he acting weird about his favorite word for me—mate? “Um ... well ... enjoy your ride.”

“I’m sure I will. I’m kind of new to the sport, but I figured since Jack was with his mum on the weekends, what the hell, I should take up mountain biking,” he rambled.

That explained his attire and the new bike dangling out of his trunk like he’d haphazardly thrown it in there.

“Oh. Well, this trail isn’t really for beginners. There’s a pretty significant elevation change, and some parts are narrow with steep inclines and sharp drop-offs. You might want to try the Independence Park loop first.”

Simon waved his hand around. “I’m probably mental, but I like a challenge.”

He certainly was being mental. “Okay, well, be careful. Make sure you stay hydrated and shift early and often. Don’t wait until you’re climbing to shift.” I admit to being nervous about leaving him by himself. An internal struggle raged—help him or save myself? I went the safe route for my heart and justified my choice by saying there would be plenty of people on the trail along the way. A couple of cars had just arrived with parties of two or three each. And Simon was in excellent shape. We are talking about primo shape. He would be fine, just fine.

“Cheers, love. I’m sure it will be wicked.”

I knew in the UK wicked meant great, but I had a feeling this might be more like the bad wicked. Like wicked-witch bad.

Uneasily, I walked to my bike and grabbed my helmet, already hanging on the handlebars. My conscience was eating at me. But it wasn’t my fault the man was overconfident. For all I knew, he would beat me back.

Meanwhile, I could hear Simon clunkily removing his bike from the trunk while murmuring something about shifting gears. I wasn’t exactly sure what he was saying, but I was pretty sure he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

Dang it. I could hear Calista telling me it wasn’t my job to solve Simon’s problem, but this was a little more than a problem. He could get seriously injured. I couldn’t let that happen for Jack’s sake. After all, I was a princess to him; it was my royal duty.

With the hugest sigh ever, I said, “If you would like, you can follow me.” The universe seriously had it out for me.

Simon flashed me a crooked, albeit relieved, grin. “That would be smashing, love.”

I knew something was going to get smashed today—my heart.

THE GREAT THING ABOUT MOUNTAIN biking was there wasn’t a lot of time for talking. You needed to reserve your oxygen to climb the steep hills. Besides, most of the trail wasn’t wide enough for two bikes. Which meant Simon had a view of my butt the entire time. So, it wasn’t exactly the adventure I’d been hoping for where I took in all the sights and sounds of nature, including incredible views of the lake. Instead, I worried about if my shorts made my butt look good, whether I had worn enough deodorant, and how bad was my hair going to look after being in a helmet and sweating profusely. If that wasn’t enough, I was terrified that when this little joyride ended, Simon would subject me to his bare chest. No doubt his polo shirt was coming off. I’d run with him enough to know that when he got hot and sweaty, he shed layers of clothes. I was bracing myself for the inevitable torture, meaning part of me couldn’t wait to see his defined pectorals and sinewy lines.

“Shift down and try not to stand if you can help it,” I yelled back as we approached an incline. We were still on the forested part of the trail in the dense woods where the sunlight only filtered through. The air smelled of damp earth with a hint of moss. Once in a while, above the sound of my breathing and the tires rolling over dirt and rocks, I could hear an animal or a bird rustle in the trees and bushes.

“Okay,” Simon yelled through his labored breathing.

We hadn’t gone all that far, but mountain biking was no joke. However, I was feeling a bit smug that I wasn’t panting as hard as he was. That was before the hill got the best of me, and I stood for a moment, trying to keep up my momentum. It was then I felt like a doctor had jabbed me with a long, thick needle in my gluteus maximus region. The shock of it had me not watching where I was going and I hit a small rock, which made me fall off my bike and land among the wildflowers on the side of the trail.

Sprawled out like a wounded animal, I tried to keep my moans of pain to myself. I wasn’t sure what hurt worse: my butt, my body, or my pride. It didn’t help when Simon came running after me.

“Jules! Jules! Jules! Are you okay?”

I’d been better.

Simon landed next to me with a thud.

Against my better judgment, I twisted my head, sure I had some greenery stuck to my cheek, and peeked up to catch him throwing off his helmet, frantically looking over me, trying to assess my injuries. Unfortunately, the perspiration dripping off him and even the smell of his sweat mixed with his woodsy scent was not a turnoff. At. All.

“My butt burns,” I said, to my absolute mortification. “I think a bee stung me.” Given the stinging was getting worse, I was sure the bee’s stinger still lived in my flesh.

Simon pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh, but a few snorts escaped. He cleared his throat, trying to be mature. “What can I do?”

Oh geez. I couldn’t believe I was going to have to ask him to look at my butt. Worse, touch my butt. I’d always thought if we ever got to this stage in our relationship, it would look much different. Certainly more romantic. Now here we were, barely friends, and I was going to reveal more of myself than was friendly.

With my butt on fire, I swallowed down what was left of my pride. “Um ... you’re going to have to see if you can remove the stinger. In my backpack, I have some wipes to clean it and help with the stinging.”

Simon’s eyes widened.

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