Page 59 of What Is Love
He reached under his chin and undid his helmet. “I’ll give you a ride,” he said as he took off his helmet and held it out to me.
I glanced at his motorcycle and took a step back. Other than the tires and leather seat being black, his bike was mostly chrome, but the gas tank and the parts that curved around the wheels were this dark metallic orange. “I can’t. My mother would kill me if she saw me on the back of your bike.”
“I’ll drop you off down the street.”
I shook my head as I eyed his motorcycle again. “I can’t.”
He lowered the helmet as he stared at me like I was a puzzle. “You’re afraid.”
I bit my lip as I gave a slight nod.
“If you want, I’ll drive ten miles per hour all the way,” he offered. “We might get honked at, but I don’t fucking care.”
I huffed a laugh. That was very nice to offer.
“If you really want to, you can call someone to come get you, but just know I’d be careful. I wouldn’t let anything happen, especially with you on my bike.”
I figured he was worried about getting into trouble if I got hurt because of him, but I was oddly reassured. I wanted to believe him. I also wanted to call Prue.
Coward.
Weak.
Pathetic.
My thoughts wouldn’t shut up. It’d be so easy to roll into a ball and drown in them. I’d done it before. Finding the will to get up and keep going after falling so low was like climbing Mount Everest. I did not want to get to that point. I didn’t want to have to make that climb. So I had to keep standing.
“Charlotte?” Bram said.
“Sorry. I’m having a bad day,” I said with a voice that cracked and eyes that began to burn. “I’m being really hard on myself over the dumbest of things because of how bad I already feel.”
“Are you really upset because of the disagreement you had with your friends?”
“I think I used the wrong word,” I said, staring down at the ground. “I don’t think it can be a disagreement when I agree with the other person. It’s just hard to hear someone say something you’ve been telling yourself for so long.”
“What did they say about you?”
I shook my head, not wanting him to know. Surprising us both, I held my hand out for the helmet. That strange defiance I’d been feeling lately was pushing me to prove myself wrong. “Can I hold onto you when you drive?”
He handed it over. “Of course you can.”
I exhaled heavily through pursed lips before putting the helmet on.
What the hell am I doing agreeing to this?I thought as I watched him straddle his bike and hold a hand out for me.
I placed my hand in his. He had big hands, especially compared to mine. They were also calloused like Roe’s.
His hand closed around mine as I put my boot on the footpeg and swung my leg over. As soon as I was seated behind him, he started the motorcycle. Even though I was expecting it, when it roared to life, it startled me. I wrapped my arms around his ribs tightly and buried my face into his back.
His body shook, telling me he was laughing. He patted my hands. “Here we go,” he shot over his shoulder just before he took off.
The hoursit would have taken me to walk only took fifteen minutes on Bram’s bike.
I admitted that after the first five minutes, my fear eased. Not completely, but enough for me to lift my head and watch what we drove past.
Bram did as he’d said. He parked down the street from my house, which I strangely didn’t have to give him directions to. He offered me his hand again to help me climb off. I took it because my legs were a little shaky.
“So how was it?” he asked me as I took off the helmet and handed it back to him.
