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Eliza: Sunflowers. Bright and always facing the sun.
Knox: Fitting. Bright and beautiful
just like a teacher I know
Eliza: I’m looking forward to Friday, Knox.
No more charming texts,
save some for the ride.
Knox: It’s a deal but fair warnin I’m even better in person
Eliza: We’ll see about that.
Goodnight, Knox.
Knox: Sweet dreams Eliza.
Can’t wait for Friday
I had finally agreed to let Knox take me on a motorcycle ride. When Friday rolled around, the idea alone set my nerves on edge—not just the danger of the ride itself, but the danger of being so close to him, out in the world, he commanded with such an unapologetic presence. And then there was the truth, I knew this biker didn’t just mean for me to ride his Harley. I knew what he wanted. And I’d agreed anyway.
What’s worse, I let him pick me up at my house. The biker knew where I lived. That in itself was a huge step for me. Just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, the sky a blaze of orange and pink, I heard the deep rumble of a motorcycle pulling up outside. My heart raced. This was all completely unlike my usual routine of quiet evenings at home with Emma. She was gone to Grandmas, safe.
I filled my lungs. “You’re a big girl. You can do this,” I said to myself.
Peeking through the blinds, I saw Knox dismounting his Harley, a bundle of bright sunflowers in his hand. Holy shit, the gorgeous biker was walking to my house. My stomach knotted with anxiety. I opened the door, and the evening light caught on his rugged features, making him even more irresistible.
“Evenin’, Eliza,” he said smoothly, his dark eyes sparkling while passing me a bunch of beautiful sunflowers.
The vibrant yellow was intoxicating against the deepening twilight. Or was that just him? Either way, I was lightheaded when I spoke. “Knox, these are wonderful, thank you,” I said, taking them. I hesitated for a moment thinking about inviting him in, but the thought of him in my personal space felt too intimate, too soon.
Leaving him on the doorstep, I momentarily disappeared inside to find a vase. I filled it with water, setting the flowers on the kitchen counter.
When I stepped back outside, Knox was waiting patiently, his bike idling softly in the background. His Harley was a behemoth of machinery, sleek and polished. And dangerous and daunting as he was.
Knox caught me eyeing it, a proud smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” he said, his voice filled with unmistakable affection for the machine.
“She is,” I agreed.
“I was talking to my Harley about you, Eliza. You’re as pretty as a peach, tonight.” Knox took my hand and twirled me, leaving me breathless.
Taken in by his charm, I swallowed hard. “You’re a tall glass of water yourself,” I said, trying to speak his language. But then I quickly focused on his Harley. “I love the color. Bright.”
“Picked this color for a good reason.”
“Oh?” I said, curious about the striking choice of a bold orange.
“Yep,” he continued, running a hand along the shiny surface. He hesitated, like he was changing his story. “It’s for Tennessee, of course. Like them Vols — you know? Grew up watchin’ the games… Big fan.” He laughed, a deep, hearty sound. “Ain’t no better way to show some state pride than speeding down the highway, flaunting this bad boy.”
The way his Southern drawl stretched his words, made everything he said more like a melody than a statement.
“Plus, you can’t miss it,” Knox added, winking at me. “Means trouble can see me comin’ from a mile away. But also, ain’t no one gonna say I don’t know how to make an entrance or leave an impression.” His grin was infectious, and I found myself laughing along with him. The initial intimidation I felt at the sight of the bike was slowly ebbing away.
“Ready for our first ride?” he asked, his voice all encouragement.
“Our first?” My voice caught in my throat.
