Page 54 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas
She was so responsive. So perfectly responsive.
The highway gave way to county roads, then to the narrow mountain track that led to my spot. The road got narrower as we climbed, there were a few potholes and some loose gravel patches but nothing the bike couldn’t handle. Willa adapted to the more challenging terrain without complaint.
When I hit a particularly loose patch of gravel that kicked the back wheel out a little, she actually laughed, the sound carried back to me on the wind. The pure joy in it did something dangerous to my chest, made me think about all the times I'd ridden out here alone, wishing I had someone to share the freedom of it with, but never believing I'd find someone who'd want what I had to offer.
Her laugh made me want to show her everything. Every hidden trail, every secret vista, every place that had ever mattered to me. I wanted to hear that sound again, wanted to be the reason for it.
The road climbed steadily through thick forest, pine trees creating a canopy that filtered the late afternoon light into golden patches on the asphalt. The air grew cooler as we gained elevation, carrying the clean scent of mountain streams and growing things. Behind me, Willa's grip tightened slightly as the road got more winding, but not with fear. With excitement.
"This is incredible," she called out during a straight stretch, her voice filled with wonder.
I couldn't answer over the engine noise, but I felt my chest swell with pride that I was the one showing her this, that I was giving her something she'd never experienced before.
The ride to the waterfall took thirty-five minutes on roads that got progressively narrower and twisting with sharper turns. She held on without complaint, her confidence growing as we rode. Icould feel her relaxing against me, starting to enjoy the freedom of it, the way the bike moved through the landscape like it was part of it.
When we hit the final dirt track that led to my spot, she laughed again, and this time I felt it vibrate through her chest against my back. That sensation went straight through me, making me acutely aware of every point where our bodies connected.
I parked in the small clearing where I always left the bike, cutting the engine. The sudden silence felt profound after the steady rumble of the Honda. She didn't let go immediately, and I didn't move to make her. For a moment, we just sat there in the growing dusk, her arms still around me, both of us breathing hard as my hands slowly trailed up and down her thighs.
"That was incredible," she said finally, her voice soft with amazement. "I felt like I was flying."
I swung off first, then steadied her as she found her feet. Her legs were a little shaky from the ride, and she gripped my arm as she got her balance back. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with exhilaration, and strands of hair had escaped from her braid to frame her face in wild waves.
She looked alive in a way I'd never seen before, and I felt a surge of possessive pride that I'd been the one to put that expression on her face.
"Different than a car," I said, pulling off my helmet and running a hand through my hair.
"Completely different. I can see why you love it." She pulled off her own helmet, and her hair fell around her shoulders in wind-tangled waves that made my fingers itch to touch them. "How long have you been riding?"
"Since I was sixteen. Saved up for two years to buy my first bike." I didn't mention that I'd sold it to help pay for the garage expenses when I went into business for myself, or thatrebuilding this Honda had been one of the first things I'd done when the shop started turning a real profit. I should have. If there was anyone I wanted to tell my story to, it was Willa. But I’d isolated myself for so long now that I’d forgotten what it was like to talk to people. Forgotten how to make those real connections and break away the walls you’d erected to try and keep yourself.
"Trail's this way," I said, pulling two small flashlights from my saddlebags. "It's not far, but it gets dark fast in the trees."
The path wound through thick forest, pine needles soft under our feet. I led the way, hyperaware of her behind me, the small sounds she made when branches caught her attention or an owl called overhead. The forest was quiet except for our footsteps and the distant sound of water growing louder as we walked.
"The trees are so old here," she said, reaching out to touch the bark of a massive pine. "How long has this trail been here?"
"Long time. Probably started as a game trail, then maybe loggers used it back in the day. Haven't seen another person up here in years."
That was the truth. This place was too remote for casual hikers, too hidden for anyone who wasn't specifically looking for it. Which was exactly why I'd kept coming back. In a world that seemed to get more crowded and complicated every year, having a place that was truly private had become precious beyond measure.
"How did you find this place?" she asked as we walked deeper into the woods.
"Exploring. When I was younger." I hesitated, then found myself telling her more than I'd planned. "Used to come up here when I needed to get away from things. When home got too... complicated."
She was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if I'd revealed too much. But when she spoke, her voice was gentle with understanding.
"Sometimes the best places are the ones we find when we're looking for escape."
That's exactly what it had been. What it still was, in many ways.
The sound reached us before we saw it. Water cascading over rocks, peaceful and constant. I'd heard that sound in my dreams more nights than I could count, had used it to calm myself to sleep when the garage was struggling or loneliness felt like it might actually kill me.
"Oh," Willa breathed as we stepped into the clearing.
The waterfall wasn't huge, maybe fifteen feet of water tumbling down moss-covered rocks into a pool that reflected the afternoon light. Ancient trees surrounded it, their branches creating a natural cathedral. Mist rose from where the water hit the pool, catching the soft light like tiny diamonds. It was beautiful in a quiet, undemanding way. The kind of place that didn't try to impress you, just offered itself honestly.
"Rhett, this is gorgeous."
