Page 9 of From the Wreckage
It’smid-afternoon and I’m cruising Main Street, the engine of my Harley drawing the townspeople’s attention. My helmet offers protection, allowing me to smirk behind it without their knowledge. The curiosity etched on their faces makes my skin crawl. But they can’t touch me on my motorcycle.
I ride past The Timberline, where Grayson and I made plans to meet tomorrow night. My body tenses at the thought. If he starts asking a lot of questions, I need to be able to shut them down. If not, I need to have an excuse, and a backup excuse, to get the hell out of there.
I turn around when I reach the end of town and ride back down Main Street. I’m looking for her, but it’s freaking stupid. Of course, she’s not walking down the street or in front of the post office.
Maybe I should go into The Pine & Page and see if she happens to be there.
Before I can stop myself, I’m pulling my motorcycle into the small lot behind it. Cutting the engine, I take off my helmet and walk inside, my strides long.
The bell jingles as I walk inside. A few patrons look up, and the woman with the nametag that reads, “Leah,” looks up from the register and smiles.
Just like last time, I order a coffee and check out the whole damn shop, but my angelic brunette is nowhere to be found. There are a few mysteries and two thrillers that catch my eye. I grab them, then head to the register.
“Did Brielle pick up her books?” An older woman with graying hair and a nametag with “Margaret Thomas, Owner” says to Leah.
“Yup. She was in here about fifteen minutes ago and picked them up.” Leah turns to me with a friendly smile. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
No. The brunette isn’t here.
“Yes.” I flash a tight smile and pull my wallet from my back pocket.
“Great.” She rings me up and gives me my total. I hand her the cash, she gives me my change, then puts my books in a bag. “Enjoy. Hope to see you again soon.”
I nod, then hurry for the exit.
After putting my books inside the tail bag on my bike, I put my helmet on and take off, heading for home.
CHAPTER 8
Brielle
My eyes pop open.I look at the clock and groan. It’s 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday.Why am I awake?
I try to go back to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, I see the black truck guy.Our lips are inches away from one another, and my heart is pounding. Just one kiss. That’s all?—
I jerk awake again, my heart pounding. Disloyalty courses through me as I roll and snatch my phone from my nightstand. There’s no text from Joey. Guilt has my fingers shaking as I text him.
Me: Good morning. I miss you.
I set my phone down and get out of bed. Moving to my closet, I quickly change into a pair of running shorts and a tank top. I shove my feet into my sneakers and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
Ten minutes later, I’m walking down the hallway with my phone and earbuds in my hands, trying not to wake Dad. The smell of coffee coming from the kitchen tells me he’s already awake.
“Hey, Dad.” I walk over to him, kissing his cheek as he sits there, legs sprawled, newspaper in hand.
“Hey, kiddo. Sleep well?”
I shrug, grabbing a bottle of water instead of caffeine. “Fine.” I screw the lid off and take a large sip. “I’m gonna go for a run around the lake.”
He nods. “I’ll start the pancakes and bacon in about fifteen minutes. They’ll be ready when you get back.”
“You don’t have to make me breakfast.”
He grins. “I know. But I don’t have many of these mornings left. So humor me.”
I grin, rolling my eyes as I take another sip. “You know we still have nearly two months before I leave for college. And I’ll be back for Thanksgiving break and the end of the semester.”
“I know. Still, limited time.”
