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“I should get up and call a cab,” Lainey says when I roll off her.
I get up and dispose of the condom before coming back and sitting on the bed. “I told you I was fine to give you a ride.”
She sits up, studying me carefully before looking away and climbing out of bed. “Okay.”
Immediately, I want to drag her back to the bed with me and keep her with me all afternoon, but our night together is over. And our morning is almost over, too. A quick glance at the alarm clock tells me it’s ten minutes to twelve. I really should take her home before it gets any later. Something that would probably be easier to do if I knew what was supposed to happen between us now.
Reluctantly, I throw on a shirt and jeans while Lainey dresses in the clothes she wore last night. Usually, she’s talking my ear off whenever we’re together, but she’s unusually subdued right now. I follow her out of my room once she’s ready, wondering if she’s also thinking about how we’re supposed to act around each other now.
“Ready?” I ask her as I grab my helmet and the spare.
“I think this is probably what they call the ride of shame,” she jokes as she takes the helmet from me. “I’m not exactly dressed for riding on the back of your bike.”
“You’ll be fine.”
She looks uncertain and I want to reach out and comfort her. Reassure her. Instead, I open my front door and get her to follow me. If I hold her, touch her, we could end up spending the rest of the afternoon in my bed.
Grateful for something to do, I unlock the garage door and motion for Lainey to get on the bike behind me.
The last time she was on this bike with me, Amber and I had just split up and I’d been too angry and hurt to appreciate just how good it feels to have Lainey behind me. Her arms squeeze my middle and her cheek rests against my back. Six and a half months ago, that would have felt completely wrong. Now I like the feeling just a little too much.
I start the engine, revving it before taking off, reminding myself to take it nice and slow because Lainey isn’t used to being my passenger.
The ride to her place is silent apart from the noise of the engine. In less than ten minutes, we’re pulling into her driveway.
Lainey dismounts and hands me her helmet back, and I’m just trying to work out how I’m supposed to say goodbye when a little old lady walks up to us.
“Mrs Richards. Hello.”
“Lainey, dear,” the woman acknowledges, all the while looking me over with critical eyes.
She can’t see my face, my eyebrow ring, or tatts, which means her judgement of me is based solely on my bike.
“This is Ben,” Lainey says. “Ben, this is my neighbour, Mrs Richards.”
I take off my helmet to be polite and say hello, but the way she takes stock of my eyebrow ring tells me I need not have bothered. She gives me a tight-lipped smile and turns to Lainey.
“It’s a good thing you weren’t here last night. I was in bed when I heard some unusual noises coming from your place, including glass breaking. Naturally, I got up to see if you were okay, but when I flicked my backyard lights on and the men ran out with their arms full, I realised you’d been burgled. I called the police, worried you might have been hurt, but Officer Dumphrey assured me you weren’t there.”
Sometime during Mrs Richard’s speech, Lainey’s face has changed from polite to shocked.
“He wants you to give him a call so you can report what’s been taken,” Mrs Richards continues, handing Lainey a card.
“Thank you,” Lainey says. She looks at me quickly. “Thanks for taking me home. I’d better go look at the damage.”
I’m off my bike before I can think about it, following her to the house. No way am I letting Lainey walk in there alone. Sure, the thieves might have gone, but she’s in shock and she might need help cleaning up.
The front door is still locked, and her hands shake as she tries to put the key in the lock.
“Let me,” I tell her, taking the key from her and sliding it into the lock.
She cautiously walks in as soon as the door swings open, and I walk in behind her. Straight away, I notice that her TV is missing.
“There goes any hope I had of watching Kill Bill 2 tonight,” Lainey remarks dryly.
All pretence of humour vanishes from her face, however, when she walks into the kitchen dining area. The back window has been smashed and there is glass all over the floor and the table.
“They took my laptop, too.”
