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He examined the raw-boned bicycle ruefully. It was clear she hadn’t purchased the best machine on the market. Well, but who knew how much money she had.
Who knew anything about her, really.
The question he couldn’t entirely shake returned, buzzing annoyingly around his mind. It was a simple question but one that he had no idea how to answer.
Why was he fixing a bike for a girl he didn’t even really know?
The haunting melody of one of his favorite songs began playing—“Hallelujah.” He hummed along softly as he greased the new chain methodically, unhurriedly. The music seemed to envelope him, carrying his mind on a journey toward a more peaceful place.
He thought about the lyrics as he continued working. The song had always been his anthem—beautiful yet sad, singing about loss and passion and how dangerous love could be. Yeah, he knew that, all right.
There was no explanation for why a vision of Addisyn suddenly appeared in his mind. He saw her as she’d stood on the street, helmet in her hands, the sun making copper flecks dance in her silky hair. The memory snagged his breath, and the chain seemed to knot itself in his hands.
He didn’t know how it had happened, but his heart didn’t belong to him anymore.
It was in the hands of a girl with the sweetest soul he’d ever seen.
He took a deep breath and twisted the sprocket. Looked like her back brakes were loose too. He swiped his hands on a wad of paper towels and reached for the wrench. He might as well fix those while he was at it.
He wanted this bike to move as gracefully as she did.
C’mon, Payne.All that “love-at-first-sight” business was for the real men. The guys who could actually charm women. The guys who were everything he was not.
What had happened to him? He could usually stay in control of his heart. Keep his soul locked away. What was going on?
Darius rested his hand on the main frame of the bike. A quiet frustration, its edge dulled from years of bumping around in his heart, pushed itself to the forefront of his thoughts. He was scarred and world-weary, guilty and ashamed. He had nothing to offer any woman, certainly not a golden-hearted soul like Addisyn. He would have stood barefoot on an Arctic iceberg if he could have erased his shame, but a redo wasn’t possible for him. And the sordid truth remained, leering at him mercilessly.
If Addisyn truly knew his story, she wouldn’t be able to get away from him fast enough.
As he worked, it occurred to him that maybe that was part of the problem. She didn’t know his story. In fact, she knew nothing about him, except that he was an Uber driver who liked Cuban lattes and hit the gym regularly. And that wasn’t fair. He needed to let her know who he really was—at least enough to give her an idea of his poor track record. As far as the deep wounds were concerned, there was no need to even go there.
Just the bare facts would be enough to turn her away.
THE CONVERSATION WASmaking Addisyn want to scream or climb the walls of the coffee shop. Or maybe both.
If the explanations such a move would have required wouldn’t have been so embarrassing, she would have asked Darius to drop her off a block away from the coffee shop. As it was, though, he pulled right up front—even hopping out to open her door like the gentleman he was. Then he followed her inside for his daily Cuban.
The whole time, Addisyn could feel Chelsea’s questions, like tiny invisible barbs just beneath the surface. Sure enough, as soon as the door swung shut on Darius’s heels, the girl’s excitement began spouting.
“Oohhh...so you came with Darius this morning?” Chelsea winked conspiratorially.
Addisyn still couldn’t explain the irritation that had swept over her at those words. Really, it was none of Chelsea’s business.Who made her the hall monitor?“I was biking to work and had a wreck. He happened to see it, picked me up, and gave me a lift. That’s all there is to it.”
“Mm-hmmm.” Chelsea bobbed her head sagely. Like some wise old palm reader. “Mm-hmmm. So you say.”
Addisyn could hear the frustration in her own voice. “He’s an Uber driver, Chelsea, in case you forgot. Giving people rides is part of his job description, not a come-on.”
Chelsea didn’t respond for a moment. When she did, she had veered off on a completely different tack. “I saw him open the door for you. He’s so chivalrous.” She leaned over the counter and batted her eyelashes. “Like a knight from King Arthur’s court.”
“Yeah, he’s nice.” Addisyn tried her best to infuse a sense of finality into the words.
Fortunately, customers had begun arriving about that time, and the place had been hopping ever since. Chelsea had been too busy to push the matter further—although she’d still managed to insert sly comments here and there. Now, at three o’clock in the afternoon, the stream was just starting to slow down.
And Chelsea’s tormenting was just picking up.
“You said you were coming to work on a bike?” Curiosity gleamed in the girl’s innocent-looking eyes. “Didn’t know you had a bike.”
“I bought it this morning.” Addisyn sighed. “Too bad it’s already out of commission.”
