Page 12 of Redeemed in Crimson
I know, sweet girl, I know. I also know all the things you want to do on that bike. My dirty angel.
Me:
Yes, it is freeing. You name the day, and I’ll take you for a ride.
Angel:
Wait. Really, really?
Me:
Really, really. Just let me know when you want me.
Me:
Read your book, Angel. I’ll see you soon ;)
If she only knew that I’ll be watching her until she falls asleep. We both have a big weekend coming up. Hers is filled with football game activities that comealong with the fall semester, and mine is filled with devising a plan to have my girl find out her current asswipe of a boyfriend is cheating on her without totally breaking her heart. Before too long, my phone beeps with words that almost bring me to my knees.
Angel:
I hope so. You’ll be on my mind until then. Sweet dreams.
Two weeks fly by between prepping the club for Ladies' Night and plotting to make my future wife available to date. Every day, I start my mornings with a sweet text to Sloane, and we text back and forth until she falls asleep each night.
We’ve discussed what she’s reading, her classes, her parents, my parents, my siblings, and her childhood friends. I told her I own a nightclub, then quickly changed the subject to avoid discussing the details. We’ve ventured into more controversial territories, such as politics, religion, and our overall outlook on life, and we share nearly all the same opinions. Over the past few days, particularly, we’ve both opened up more about our hopes and dreams for the future. Sloane is incredibly bright but not quite sure what she wants to do career-wise. Without showing my hand and telling her she could do whatever shewanted, I gently encouraged her, and we chatted about the different paths out there. We even discussed her relationship. To my absolute pleasure, I can tell she doesn’t love him. It would’ve broken my heart to have to hurt my angel too much by outing what a douche her current boyfriend is.
I haven’t stopped sending her little treats, and although she hasn’t called me out on it, we both know it’s me. It's as if acknowledging it would break our fragile game of flirting and pushing the boundaries of an innocent friendship.
It’s Thursday, and after being absent from the last practice, I’m dying to see her.
I know that Sloane expects the dickhead to pick her up from practice tonight. I also know, from keeping tabs on him, that he's standing her up to try to get his dick wet. I'll be here to be her very own Prince Charming, coming to sweep her off her feet on my handsome steed. Well, as long as she counts my bike as a steed. I even picked up a pink helmet for her, complete with cat ears.
After a long practice of flirting and laughing and talking about anything but our lines, I walk my lead angel to the front of the church.
“Do you want a ride home?” I point her toward my Ducati. “I brought the bike tonight, and I have an extra helmet for you.”
I can see her hesitate. She wants to come with me so badly. “Actually, Dean was supposed to pick me up.”
“Well, where is he?” I look around the parking lot as if I don't already know exactly where he is right now.
Sloane is holding her phone up to her ear, and I can hear that it keeps going to voicemail.
“Angel, you can’t wait out here in the dark by yourself. I’ll make you a deal. If he shows up within fifteen minutes, you go with him, but if he doesn’t show up before then, you let me take you for a ride and a quick bite to eat.”
Sloane nibbles on the corner of her mouth for a few seconds before sticking her hand out. “Deal.”
I set a timer for fifteen minutes and stand there, basking in my victory. Hiding my excitement, I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her toward me before lowering my head to her hair and getting a good whiff ofher.Coconut and vanilla. “Come here, sweet girl. You should never accept a man being late to pick you up.” I lower my arm from her shoulders to the small of her back and use my other hand to tilt her chin up to look into her eyes. “You deserve so much more than that.”
She slowly nods while we keep our eyes locked on each other. I watch her throat bob as she swallows. Her lips slightly part. I lower my head to hers, and I'm inches away from feeling her lips on mine when that damn alarm goes off. I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles again instead. She shudders, and I decide to push her a little further.
I tuck the strands of hair framing the left side of her face behind her ear and lean over to run my nose up the side of her throat. “That means you're mine for the night,” I whisper, before taking her small hoop earring between my teeth and giving it a slight tug. I watch as her skin pebbles with goose bumps.
“Are you cold?” I ask. But before she can respond, I wrap my jacket around her shoulders and lead her toward my bike.
When we get close enough to make out the details of my custom paint job, she freezes in place.
“It’s you…you’re the man I saw on the bike that night.” She looks like she’s just seen a ghost. “Did you know it was me? I swear you looked right at me before we drove off.”
