Page 93 of Biker's Tribute: Property of Bear

Considering how good Angela Bassett has always looked for her age, I have to take it as a compliment. And if it’s a realtor’s trick… I fall for it.

“Thank you. I have not heard that before.”

“You’re gorgeous. I think you would doincrediblyas a business owner in this neighborhood…”

The tour is too perfect. I know from the second we walk into the building lobby that Ineedto sign the lease. It’s expensive but… I know I can make the money back. The realtor must be damn good at her job because she convinces me completely that I’ll have access to “Ben Affleck level” of Boston-based clients in a neighborhood like this.

We would have gotten there in Cambridge, but… this is prime real estate in a prime area of Boston. Ethan must have known that I couldn’t say no to this but…

What the hell would make this rough and tumble man sign this lease for me? Ethan has never wanted to live in Boston. I turn over all the questions in my mind after the meeting and take the ‘T’ on the way back home just because I need more time to think.

Mallory still hasn’t texted me from her new number, so I have nobody close enough to text my panicked thoughts about Ethan to on the way home. I just go a little… numb. Could Keyshawn understand this predicament? It’s not fair for me to disrupt her life with my problems, honestly.

What do I even want her to do? Find out why my boyfriend (of sorts) is acting suspicious? He’s a criminal. Maybe that’s why…

I walk up to the apartment door and punch the code in. Before I hit the last number, Ethan swings the door open with a big, mischievous grin on his face.

“Hello, beautiful.”

Okay. Cute greeting. But still suspicious.

“Ethan… You’re scaring me.”

He takes my hand and presses it to his lips before dragging me into the apartment which now looks…different.I’m even more scared than before. He moved all the furniture. Blew up a bunch of white balloons. Set a two-person table with a bottle of wine on it…

I’m straight up panicking.

“Do you have cancer?”

Ethan looks confused. “What? No. Just… hush… Come inside…”

He taps a button on his phone and the lights dim while some romantic French classical music fills the room. Coming from…where exactly? I don’t remember us getting a speaker system. But I can’t ask any questions because Ethan has his hands on my hips and… I’m wondering if this is some type of biker style ritual sacrifice.

“Dance with me,” he says, forcing me to gaze back into his eyes. “Please, Amanda. Just… dance with me.”

* * *

Thirty-Five

Ethan

Idance with her for a few minutes to get her relaxed and calmed all the way down. I love feeling her in my arms. I yearn for her closeness whenever she’s away from me. Amanda is the perfect woman, which is why I did all this… for her. I don’t know why she made that weird cancer comment but… dancing is nice.

I spin her around once and she settles into our slow rocking rhythm together. Or my approximation of rhythm at least. When she pulls away from me a second time, clearly intent on asking me more questions, I spin her around once more and by the time she turns back to face me, she finds me on one knee. Ready to pop the question.

She freezes. This woman stares at me in confusion.

“What are you doing down there?”

“You never watched a freaking Hallmark movie?”

“Ethan–

I have to shut her up quickly before this turns into an argument. I reach into my pocket for the small, hot pink ring box and open it up in front of Amanda, my simple offering for her hand in marriage. If you can call a $40,000 engagement ring “simple”. She shrieks like I just stepped on her toe with a steel-toe boot.

“Ethan! What is that for?!”

“Damn it, Amanda. Will you marry me?”

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