Page 62 of True Honey
Even her smallest yes felt like fireworks beneath my skin.
I changed quickly, throwing on a hat and grabbing the keys to my bike as Drew waited for me in the kitchen. Her eyes trailed over me from bottom to top, stopping on the head with a curious expression.
“What?” I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt.
“You look…” She paused and smiled, “normal.”
“Normal?” I barked out a short laugh and strode toward her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked with the laughter still on my tongue.
She chuckled, inhaling slowly as I invaded her personal space. “You have two outfits, a suit and a Hornets polo. I’ve just never seenyou so… relaxed.”
“That’s the point of today,” I told her, “now move your butt, I need to get you on the back of my bike before you change your mind about today and break my heart.”
Drew’s green eyes sparkled with something other than sadness for a split second and I’d remember that sight, keeping it in my back pocket to remind myself that the woman she wanted to be was somewhere deep inside of her. Buried beneath all that survival.
There was no protesting about the bike that time, she just pulled the helmet over her head and curled around my body as I backed us from the garage. I took the back roads and let the speed climb on the empty concrete until the wind ripped away every ounce of tension in my muscles. The fresh air, the speed, Drew wrapped around me it was good. It felt fucking good. For a second I was able to forget about all the nagging responsibilities that waited for me at the Nest, at the stadium, the courthouse, the hospital and with my grandfather. The list felt endless but at that moment it was nothing but paper. Out here I didn’t have to worry about a single one of those.
“What is this place?” Drew asked as she slid off her helmet and handed it to me. The building looked sketchy from the outside, a big concrete box that used to be a carwash had only two windows and was framed against the blue sky by a circle of junk and scraps.
“Keep trusting me?” I held my hand out to her, hoping that she’d go along with it.
She looked nervous but clapped her hand into mine and let me lead her into the conspicuous building. Inside there was a front desk. And a small brunette girl that looked maybe fifteen in a pair of coveralls and a big smile on her face.
“Silas!” She hooted.
“What’s up tiny terror, where’s your brother?” I asked her, leaning over the counter to see what she was working on in her journal. “What’s that?”
“A poem about the sun killing frogs,” she said confidently and I just shrugged. “He’ll be back in a second, he went to go help a group of girls…” she said. “They were going to hurt themselves.”
Drew cleared her throat nervously beside me, reminding me that she was there. I was so used to coming down here alone I had completely forgotten that I brought a guest.
“Drew this is Lyla,” I introduced them.
“You’re pretty… she’s pretty Silas. Is this your girlfriend?” Lyla asked, her manners elsewhere making me laugh.
“Yeah,” I answered confidently and felt Drew stiffen under my touch.
“It’s been a while.” A dark voice came from the hallway and I turned to watch Mercer pull off his gloves before handing me a dirty hand to shake. “Si,” he nodded, shoving that same hand through a thick head of long, loose dark waves.
“How's the off season going?” I asked, knowing how much he hated small talk.
“Busy,” he shrugged, chucking his phone on the counter by the register.
“Drew,” Lyla cooed when Mercer’s eyes scanned the room.
“Nice to meet you,” he said politely, turning away from her and wandering around the counter. I looked over at Drew trying to figure out if she was making the connection only to realize that she wasn’t a sports girl. She had no clue who she was standing in front of.
It was almost endearing to watch as Mercer grumbled, his famous face going completely unrecognized by Drew. Lyla on the other hand thought it was hilarious. When Mercer North wasn’t keeping one of his family's four businesses running, he was on the ice as one of the NHL’s roughest enforcers.
“That’s cool,” Lyla snorted, noticing the lack of recognition and how much it bugged her older brother before she went back to her writing.
“Is the usual room open?” I asked, trying my best not to take the jab at him over it. Mercer nodded, shifting behind the counter in a pair of brown overalls that had seen better days.
“There’s some crates in the back room, if you need more you know where to get it,” he said as I dropped a few hundred on the counter. Mercer chucked a pair of keys at me without looking up from what he was reading behind the desk.
“Go get yourself and Lyla lunch, she’s the hardest working employee you have.” I caught the keys effortlessly, backing away from the counter as Mercer’smean stare turned on me. I pulled gently on Drew and led her back through the building, the sounds of laughter and screaming echoing through the heavy walls loudly.
“What is this place?” Drew asked as I popped open the last door on the left.
