Page 42 of Crimson Promises
Aurora: Sorry for the delay, been a crazy day.
Aurora: Thanks again for last night. Maybe we could grab coffee sometime next week.
And hit send.
I put my phone face-down on the hardwood floor.
Before I could close my eyes for a few minutes, Siri interrupted: “Message from Breathtaking-brilliant-beloved-Bennett.”
“Read.”
“Breathtaking-brilliant-beloved-Bennett, says ‘Works for me. I’ll grab you from Perk & Pour.’ Do you want to respond?”
“No.”
Ben’s assertiveness was appealing. I liked that he was decisive enough to make a plan. There seemed to be no games with him.
I brought my hands to my hair and massaged my scalp. Ben? Riley? I was probably biting off more than I could chew. A girl was entitled to have some options. Men shouldn’t be the only ones to have all the fun.
I rolled up my mat and commanded, “Siri, playMan! I Feel Like A Woman!”
Shania said it the best: “No inhibitions, make no conditions
“Get a little outta line
“I ain't gonna act politically correct
“I only wanna have a good time
“The best thing about bein' a woman
“Is the prerogative to have a little fun,” I screamed the lyrics at the top of my lungs as I jumped from one couch pillow to the next.
* * *
I leaned against the window inside Perk & Pour, waiting for Ben to pick me up. I twirled the brown paper bag in my hand, first to the left and then to the right. The bag winded up, unwound, and then did it again. He said to be there for six and to make sure I was wearing pants—for what reason, I had no clue. I curled the ends of my hair and left them flowing in dark waves. I kept my makeup simple: a quick layer of mascara, concealer, foundation, and lip gloss. You know, just the basics.
Today was a dream. Unproductive but so freaking great. I spent all day curled up on my couch with a cup of tea, watching TV. There were dishes in the sink and an overflowing laundry hamper. I. Did. Not. Care. I have had nightmares since the night I got attacked on my way home from the library. I mentioned it to the nurse when I was in the hospital. She said it’s probably a manifestation of the trauma I’ve been through with losing my mom, and the car accident would likely amplify whatever fears my subconscious was trying to repress.
I even asked Google, “What do red eyes in a dream mean?” The answers varied, none fitting. People thought I was crazy when I mentioned seeing someone the night of my accident. If they thought I kept seeing red eyes night after night, I’d likely be admitted to some treatment center for a psychotic break. So, I took the day to rest and try not to appear like I was a walking zombie for tonight. Vic didn’t need to let my dad know I could be an extra onThe Walking Dead, and I’d rather Ben not regret agreeing that he would come tonight.
The roar of a bike caught my attention. After Ben’s cryptic instructions, I decided to keep it simple. We were going to Vic and Darlene’s not on a date: black jeans, ankle boots, a thick sweater, and a leather jacket. It parallel parked into the street parking in front of the cafe. The rider and the motorcycle matched in all black as the rider kicked out the stand, walked around, and leaned against the side. He could give Ben a run for his money. I focused on the way the rider crossed his ankles as he went to lift off the helmet.
Oh, hell no!Why am I not surprised that Bennett rides a motorcycle?
He rested the helmet on his hip and smirked at me through the window.
I exited the cafe until I stood on the curb, out of the way of the people crossing the street. I noted how men and women were checking out Ben or his bike with an approving nod. There was no way I was getting closer to that death contraption.
“You didn’t mentionthat,” I pointed aggressively to the motorcycle, “is what you were picking me up with?”
He arched that damn brow again. “I thought it was pretty obvious when I told you to wear pants.”
“There could have been so many other reasons for why you requested I wear pants.”
“What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that there isn’t anything protecting us from, you know, falling off and dying. Like an alloy frame or airbags.”
