Page 20 of Skid
His compliments were hard to take when you weren’t used to believing people’s words, but hearing them fall from his lips, somehow made them feel real. I left him in the kitchen while I went to my bedroom and closed the door. Quickly, I changed shirts and pulled my hair into a clip, not wanting to take the time to fix it. He’d seen me free of makeup after we swam yesterday, and my hair was a curly nightmare by last night. If he was okay with that, then the need to make myself into someone else to impress him was absent.
Somehow, I liked being my real self with him. If my gut was truthful, he might be the person who can accept me for the painful things I endured and my inability to trust. Being near him pushed the memories deeper, and I prayed they stayed buried. No good came from kicking that hornet’s nest.
I slipped my feet into a pair of tennis shoes and opened the door to find him sitting on my old couch, looking at his phone. He lifted his head, and a brilliant smile filled his handsome face as he stood.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and I nodded.
After locking the house, he helped me onto the bike and secured my helmet before climbing in front of me. After his helmet was in place, I wrapped my arms around his toned waist, and he cranked the loud bike, vibrating me as he pulled away from the house. It was freeing being on the back of his motorcycle, and I had the urge to spread my arms out, imagining it would feel like flying.
When he got to the end of my road, he stopped and yelled over his shoulder, “Hold on.”
I wasn’t scared when I was on his bike, knowing deep down, he wasn’t going to hurt me. The only person I ever felt that way toward was Eddie, and I trusted his opinion on Dalton. I gripped tighter onto him as he revved the engine and squealed tires, laying down rubber as he peeled away from the stop sign and shot down the road like a bullet.
And after it happened twice now, I knew how he got the name Skid.
Chapter 9
Skid
Spending the last twodays with Grace was more than I could have asked for. She seemed more relaxed the longer we spent time together, and I didn’t want to do anything to cause her any more pain than what I knew she already experienced. I may be guessing on her past, for the most part, but the haunted look in her eyes, even through laughter, was a tell-tale sign I was on the right track.
I was texting with Devlin and James about digging deeper into her past when she walked into her living room, looking like a dream. Her curly hair was piled onto her head, she was makeup free, and her ability to make shorts and a T-shirt look sexy had my needy cock begging for relief.
During lunch, she kept her hand in mine when we were eating, and I stood taller with her by my side. I’d never taken the time to really talk to a woman, and hearing her tell me crazy stories from the bar made me miss home. Between the Dog House and Falcon’s Tavern, I’d spent years seeing some of the craziness that goes on when people are drinking.
“Do you think you’ll stay working at the bar long-term?” I asked when we were done eating, and she shrugged as she stacked our plates to help the waitress clear the table.
“I’ve been there for so long that it’s home, but I don’t see myself pulling drinks forever.”
“What would you do if you could choose your career?”
“Eddie always told me I needed to start a bakery or a catering service, but that takes a lot of overhead, and banks don’t loan money to people like me.”
I leaned closer to her and asked with curiosity, “What kind of person are you?” Lowering my voice, I continued, “Are you secretly on the run from the law?”
I made my eyes wide and looked around, only to look back and see her giggling. I knew what kind of self-deprecation someone can go through when questioning themselves, and I didn’t want her to think she was somehow less worthy than anyone else.
