Page 53 of Cherry Beats

I pointed a weak, pitiful finger at it. “He… he wants me to sign it?”

“I don’t always understand the requests my customers make.”I took the leather jacket from his hand, feeling the weight of it like I had Presley’s heart beating in my grip. “He said write whatever you want on the inside. You earned it.”

My eyes filled with tears, and when I looked back up at the biker, he held out the pen for me to take.

“You’re taking this back to him now?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s leaving soon.”

“Really soon,” he said, seeming to lose a bit of patience as he pushed the pen closer to me.

“Can I have a minute?” I asked weakly, and something in the way I pleaded must have made the biker soften because he gave me a small nod before he turned his back on me and stared out at our small front garden.

My feet carried me up those stairs like they had the ability to fly, and when I sat on the edge of my bed with his jacket in one hand and a Sharpie in the other, I tried to control the trembling of my fingers.

He’d asked me to sign his jacket, which meant…

Holy shit.

I closed my eyes and winced because this hurt more than walking away from Presley this morning, and I knew I still had to let him go. I still had to give him my best wishes, hope he soared, and try not to crumble in the meantime, so I did what I always do best: I strapped on an Oscar-worthy smile, laid his jacket on my bed and opened it up. Inside was a small blue post-it note stuck to the material that read:

You got me falling, Cherry.

A small, nervous laugh escaped me, and a tear of mixed-emotions fell unexpectedly. There was only one thing left to write on the inside of his jacket now.

No regrets.

Cherry

Chapter Fourteen

The Present Again

Everything we’d ever said to each other that night came back to me. I stared up into Presley’s bright blue eyes as we lay on the floor of my apartment. His hair hung over his face above me, and he held the weight of his body just enough not to crush me as we panted and tried to catch our breaths.

“Now do you remember?” he asked, breathlessly.

I blinked slowly, chewing that bottom lip as much as I could, soaking up the taste of him on me and saying nothing.

“She remembers,” Presley whispered, grinning in victory.

“I never forgot,” I breathed back.

“Three years, I’ve been searching for this feeling again. Only you, Tess. Only you.”

“Then you have a problem after tonight. Can’t exactly take me with you.”

His face fell serious.

I ran my hands up and down his arms.

It was obvious what he was thinking, and I’d be lying if I said I never fantasised about it too, but this wasn’t a reality we could bring to life. He had a no girlfriend policy. Four other band members and a whole crew of people were relying on him to ride out this promise he’d made. And I had my life here. I had a bar to manage. Bills to pay. A boss and his daughter to watch over. A best friend I couldn’t live without.

“We should get off this floor,” was all I could offer as his eyes searched mine. I knew if I stayed there, looking at him that way for one minute more, I was going to promise to do things I’d come to regret soon after.

Without protesting, Presley carefully peeled himself away from me, somehow helping me to stand before he picked me up ever so carefully in both of his arms and began to walk me to the bathroom. He’d already had one bath that day, but when he flicked the shower on, I didn’t question it. I let him guide me under the water, stand me on my feet, and wash me in complete silence, neither one of us offering a sarcastic comment, a joke to break the tension, or an insult we didn’t really mean.

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