“So everything turned out well. That’s something.”
My good mood instantly fades. If he only knew...
“Tell me more about you,” he says, bringing me back from my deep thoughts and away from Josh.
“What do you want to know? I can guarantee you my life is quite boring compared to yours.” At least the last two years. Before then, I was a lively girl who liked to laugh a lot and enjoyed life with her friends, but now everything in my life is one big routine. Salon. Home. And repeat.
“I doubt that,” he says and looks at me with those mesmerizing eyes of his. “How long have you worked as a masseuse?”
“Not long. Just for the last two years,” I say, and take a sip of my beer. I feel much better if he is the one answering my questions, so I quickly ask him: “What about you and motorcycling? Why did you decide on this sport?”
“Do you mean, why did I choose motorcycling instead of a repetitive and boring job?” If you want to put it that way, I think to myself, smile and nod. “There are so many reasons that I don’t think I could tell you about all of them tonight. Let’s just say the sound of screeching tires, the smell of motor oil, and the speed excite me. I can’t imagine sitting in a boring meeting or typing all day on the computer. That’s not for me. I’m an adrenaline person.” And women, he surely forgot to mention the attention of women.
“What do your parents and your sister think about your profession? Aren’t they scared?”
“How do you know I have a sister?” he challenges me with a raised eyebrow, the corners of his lips curl upward. I feel my cheeks burn. I can see in his eyes that he is enjoying making me blush. I put the last bite of the fantastic hamburger in my mouth and finish my beer.
“I Googled you,” I say eventually, embarrassed. I’m kicking myself mentally for letting it slip. The last thing I wanted him to think is that I was thinking about him so much I stalked him on the Internet.
“Oh, really? And what else did you find out about me?” he smirks. He’s so enjoying himself right now. I might need something stronger than that beer. I grab a napkin from my plate and start folding it.
“Are you really as good as the press says?” I look him in the eyes and he nods.
“I love motorcycling. It’s my life. And the feeling of power I get every time I sit on a bike is incredible. I’m sure it shows in every race that I put 100% into it.” I glance at my watch, and notice it’s already past eleven o’clock.
“I think we should go. It’s getting late.” It is late, but that’s not the reason I want to leave. I see motorcycling isn’t just his way of life, it is his life. He doesn’t care about how dangerous it is. On the contrary, he laughs in the face of danger, and welcomes it. I’m not bothered by the sport itself, but my heart fills with horror every time I think about the hazards of this sport, and how one cannot do anything about it. That’s what I’m afraid of. I feel amazing in his company. That’s why I need to distance myself from him right now, rather than to suffer again. Yes, I really like him, but I’m terrified. Terrified that my already broken heart would break even more. The thought of feeling, loving again and losing everything in the end, terrifies me. I’m not strong enough to survive again.
We slowly get up, and Jake goes to find Joe so he can pay. Despite my protests, he didn’t want to hear anything about splitting the bill. In the meantime, I put on my coat, wrap my scarf around my neck, and wait for him outside. The cold December night reminds me it’s going to snow soon. Jake hurries out after me, zips his jacket all the way up. I can feel the weight of his hand on my lower back as he leads me to his car. We fasten our seat belts, and head toward my home. Jake parks behind my Chevrolet, then we exit the car.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” he says. I fish my keys out of my bag, and unlock the door to my apartment building. Jake follows suit.
“Thanks for the burger. I had a nice time,” I say, a little tipsy. I haven’t drunk alcohol in a long time, and two beers were more than enough. Hands in his jean pockets, Jake takes one out and leans on the doorframe. Our bodies are almost touching.
“I had a nice time, too, we should repeat it sometime.” His smile lights the room. I unlock the door and grab the doorknob. He’s looking at me with those big eyes and it takes a lot of strength to speak.
“Jake...” I start, wanting to explain that friendship is all I can offer, when he presses his fingers against my lips.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop.” He drops his gaze to the floor for a second, and then looks me straight in the eyes. “You’re thinking way too much. I can practically see the wheels turning in your head. Relax.” Perhaps I misread him. Maybe he’s not trying to get me in bed after all. But why did he take me to dinner? Does he want us to be friends? Ugh, I’ve had way too much to drink. It’s high time for me to go to bed.