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He’d parked his bike right at the edge of the sidewalk, and the valet had immediately pulled out his phone and called a tow.
Thankfully, he hadn’t spent much time inside, and the tow truck hadn’t gotten there.
“I wasn’t sure whether we’d still have a ride or not,” he murmured as he led her to his bike.
“I have my car, but I’m not sure I can drive right now. I feel like I need time to think.” Her words were soft and a little sad, and they made his heart squeeze.
“We’ll come back for it,” he said, wanting to say so much more than that but not knowing how to say the other things he wanted to.
“Thanks for coming. You’ve been a good friend. I didn’t realize just how good, until we were standing in there. I haven’t appreciated you the way I should.”
No. No. He was not her friend. Well, he was, but he didn’t want her to friend-zone him. He wanted more. He wanted her to see that he was there, yes because he liked her as a friend, but because he liked her for so much more, and he wanted her to realize she liked him the same way.
Was he going to come all this way, take her home, and have nothing change?
He knew it didn’t matter. He would do it anyway. He loved her.
“Wear my helmet,” he said, handing it to her.
She looked at it like she’d never put a motorcycle helmet on before.
“Here,” he said, grinning a little.
“So now he smiles?” she asked, looking at his lips.
Not with any kind of passion, just with surprise, like she’d never seen him smile before. Maybe she hadn’t. He did have a tendency to be serious, especially since he pulled himself out of so much garbage.
So all he had to do to get her to look at his lips was smile? He’d do it more often, then.
“It’s just a helmet; it’s not a space suit.”
“I’ve got a feeling I’m going to wish it was. It’s hot out now, but it’s supposed to get cold shortly.”
“And snow. We’re supposed to get a lot of snow.”
She sighed. “That’s winter.”
She’d never complained about the snow before. Maybe it was just the idea that her life was changing, and she didn’t have much of anything to look forward to. Or she felt she didn’t anyway.
He pulled the helmet from her hand, flipped it over, and set it down on top of her head. She lifted her chin for him, and he buckled it, careful not to pinch the delicate skin of her neck. He pulled the strap until it was snug but not tight.
“How does that feel?”
“Like I’m ready to jump into a foxhole in France.”
He snorted. “No foxholes. Hopefully this is just for show, but it will make me feel better if you have it on.”
“Where’s yours?”
He nodded to the one she wore. “Never needed a second one.” That was the truth.
For some reason, that made her smile. Then he understood when she spoke.
“That’s nice to know. Apparently James had at least one other woman, and I suspect he is married.”
“He is.”
Her brows went way up, then they pulled down and her eyes narrowed.
