Page 21 of Straight to Me

“He hurt you,” he says simply.

I wrap my arms around him, snuggling in behind. Perhaps VP's right. Perhaps I should have let him hurt the guy, for what he attempted to do. But seeing VP so violent, I didn't want to see that anymore. I didn't want to see him as the outlaw he's supposed to be.

“If that hadn’t happened, then maybe we never would have had the chance to say goodbye the way we just did.”

VP puts his helmet on, clipping it shut and his thumb pauses briefly over the start button, stroking it thoughtfully before kicking the engine to life. A massive lump burns the back of my throat as I squeeze him tight, lowering my chin to his back.

Our last ride together is slow. He remembers every turn we took on Friday night, obviously, considering he picked me up yesterday, but the fact that he remembers makes me smile. The ride gives me time to think about how wild meeting him has been. And even though I’m able to convince myself that him leaving is for the best, the urge to touch him again becomes unbearable.

My hands unlock their grip and roll along his thigh. Rubbing my thumb gently over his quads. He turns his head slightly to look back at me. It’s a brief moment, but one where he understands what I’m trying to express without words.

This man means something to me.

He returns the gesture. Letting go of the handlebars with his left hand, he strokes his thumb over my knuckles. He feels the same.

We pull up outside Bex’s and her bedroom light turns on. She knows I’m home. I’d completely forgotten to text her, but it isn’t late, I don’t think.

Once the kick stand’s down, I manoeuvre myself off the bike. Passing him back the helmet makes me feel emotional as I try to wipe away my tears before he can see. It stirs up everything I’ve felt over the past twenty-four hours. Who knew that one weekend could be so full on in every way possible.

The voice in my head starts to panic about letting him go, making the desire to tell him that I'm actually moving up north rise to the surface. I don’t want him to leave, I want another day to make up for the time we lost yesterday. He might be a stranger to me, but he’s given me so much in such a short space of time. I felt alive and I’ve done things I wouldn’t normally do because of him.

But he’s dangerous. I caught a glimpse of his life at the barbecue, and he told me what he’d done to the man.

Maybe that’s what I’m drawn to. The danger and the excitement that comes with him. I’ve played my entire life safe, never pushing myself or taking chances. Everything is always planned and known with me.

Perhaps it’s the unknown, the unforeseeable that I’m suddenly craving?

Palpitations vibrate in my throat and I swallow the burning lump that’s forming. This is ridiculous. I won’t forget meeting him, but I can’t seriously expect anything more than what it was; a fleeting clash between two people.

And I have so much to sort out in my life, why would I even consider anything more? Isn’t that what a normal person would do? Get their shit together before overcomplicating it further?

I purse my lips together, mentally removing the love goggles. I’ve done so well to convince myself this is for the best, now is not the time, I can’t ruin it.

Managing to keep the desperate words locked away, he dismounts, keeping his open face helmet and glasses on, and stores the helmet I won’t see again into the side box.

“Don’t forget me Mads,” he says unexpectedly. Tears escape my eyes as he turns back to face me. “Come here,” he adds and takes me in those safe arms again.

“I won’t, VP.”

He doesn’t say another word. Instead, he lets me go.

He takes hold of the handlebars and he swings his leg over the bike. Our eyes meet as he starts the engine, those piercing greens never leaving mine as he kicks up the stand. The noise of his bike makes me smile.

As he pulls away, I dry my tear drenched face with the top of my shirt. “Until we meet again,” I whisper.

Chapter Nine

It’s been three weeks, four hours and roughly twenty-seven minutes since I said goodbye to VP. Not that I’m counting. He messaged me once. But I couldn't bring myself to respond. I’ve picked my phone up a few times and typed something out, but all those unanswered questions are all I want to ask. It doesn’t seem right to just bombard him.

The day after he left, Bex and I each took leave from work so she could listen to me explain the whole weekend’s shenanigans. Minus the part where he killed someone. I didn’t want to get him in any trouble, plus saying it out loud made me sound crazy.

She wasn’t angry for my being so reckless, which surprised me, she was mostly fascinated with the outlaw biker. Of course, I told her about how he’d saved me from that guy, Mitch’s friend. It took most of the day, but eventually I managed to convince her that I didn’t want to go to the police. She was furious that he’d be getting away with what he did, but he hadn’t gotten off lightly. The look in his eye when he fled the toilets was enough for me.

VP had scared him.

Work was work. I struggled daily to give it my all teaching my class. I could sense people starting to get annoyed with me. It was like straight after Chris left me. I lost all will or drive for anything. My boss gave me a few days off sick. She was really great and understanding, even though she thought Chris and his baby announcement was what had tipped me over the edge. I wasn’t sad about that, not anymore. VP was on my mind twenty-four-seven.

I’m such a loser for admitting that, but it’s true.

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