Up to Me(6)

“How will I ever know the real you then?”

I can see the worry in her eyes; I just don’t know what has happened in the last little while to put it there. I thought we’d moved past all this.

I brush her satiny cheek with the backs of my fingers. “You already do. You’ll just have to look past some of the things you see when we’re around other people. I have to keep up appearances if you want me to go through with my plans.”

She watches me closely. I’d love to know what’s going through her mind, but I have a feeling that, in a thousand years, she’d never tell me.

Finally, she shakes her head.

“I still want you to go through with it. And I’ll do my best to look…deeper than what I see. It just might take some getting used to.”

“I understand that. This is not an easy thing, the life I lead. It’s been my focus, all I’ve lived for the last seven years. But it’s necessary.”

“I know that. And I’m trying.”

“That’s all I ask.”

An awkward silence slides between us and I hate it. I feel like there are things being left unsaid.

“I guess I need to get going then. Back to the apartment.”

Not only do I not want her to go, but I hate where things feel like they’re at right now. I don’t like unresolved issues. I’ve got enough of those in my life already.

“At least let me take you.”

“That would seem strange when she knows my car was here.”

“Yeah, but more often than not, that P.O.S. won’t even start.”

“P.O.S.?”

“Piece of shit.”

She grins. “Oh. Right. That’s true.”

“Just tell her it wouldn’t start and I had to bring you home. If you want, I can go pull one of the spark plugs so it’ll be true.”

Her smile widens. “That sounds like an awful lot of trouble for li’l ol’ me.”

“Don’t get a big head. I have ulterior motives.”

“You do?” One eyebrow rises.

“Mmm hmm,” I say, winding my arms around her waist.

“And what might they be?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

When I bend my head to hers, her lips feel warm and pliant, but not quite as responsive as I’ve come to expect. Something’s still eating at her. I’ll just have to keep at it until I figure out what it is.

I pull back and kiss her forehead. “Get your stuff. I’ll meet you in the garage.”

Rather than watching her go, I turn toward the front doors. I hate the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach just thinking about her walking away.





CHAPTER THREE- Olivia



The bike rumbles beneath me as I wind my arms tighter around Cash’s waist. I must admit to feeling somewhat better about things after our conversation. I guess only time will eliminate the fear that I’m falling right back into the same trap with the same kind of guy. But, if I’ve ever met a man that seems worth the risk, it’s Cash.

I smile just thinking about him walking into the garage earlier, tossing one of my spark plugs into the air. He caught it then winked at me as he stuck it in his pocket.

He went straight to his bike and climbed on. With a devilish grin and a shake of his head, he patted the seat behind him. “The lengths I go to just to get between your legs.”

I laughed. I had no choice. His grin was so cute and engaging. So light and carefree. All the things I wanted to feel at that moment. Sometimes it’s nice to be free of trouble and worry. Even for just a few minutes. And Cash gives me that. Often.

Now, I’m not at all pleased to see the familiar sights of my street come into view. I’m enjoying being close to Cash, feeling safe in his care. I don’t want the ride to end.

But it does. Cash pulls up along the curb and rolls to a stop. I wait to see if he’s going to flip down the kickstand. When he doesn’t, I sigh and slide off the seat.

Cash watches me unbuckle the helmet from beneath my chin, pull it off and hand it to him. He takes it, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t move to put it on right away. I’m pretty sure he’s thinking about the same thing I am—how to walk away without a kiss.

After all we’ve shared over the last few weeks, after all the words and kisses and nights and mornings, it seems so strange to just walk away like friends. In the pit of my stomach, it feels like a bad omen, that we’d part ways like this.

“Well, thank you,” I say uncomfortably, trying not to fidget. Cash is frowning. I feel like frowning, too. “Um, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You’re working your shift, right?”