I wave her off. “Oh, nothing too randy. Get your mind out of the gutter.” Folding another sweater, I ask, “Did you know there are workout channels on there? People in spandex, on a beach, lifting weights. It’s quite fascinating. I join in on occasion with cans of soup.”
Propping herself up, Amanda asks, “So while Matt and I are at work, you’re here, in our living room, in your quilted vests, lifting cans of soup with spandex-clad people on a beach?”
“Why, yes? Is that odd?”
“Sort of.” She laughs.
“Don’t worry. I don’t wear the quilted vests anymore.”
“Oh, good, because that’s what the weird part was.”
Beep Beep.
Shaking my head at my sister, I check my phone.
Carter: I’m outside your place. Get your ass down here, and wear something warm.
“What?” I ask out loud and quickly go to my window where I part the blinds to look outside. Sure enough, Carter is outside the house, straddling his motorcycle, looking out at the street.
“What’s going on?” Amanda asks, following my movements.
“Carter is here. He wants me to go meet him outside.”
“On his motorcycle?”
Dropping the blinds, I quickly find my black ankle boots in my closet and put them on over the skinny black jeans I’m wearing, zipping them up rather quickly. Eager to get outside, I throw on my leather jacket, the only color besides black I’m wearing is the white shirt tucked into the front of my jeans.
“It wouldn’t be the first time I rode it.”
“Daisy,” Amanda reprimands in a joking tone, “you need to tell me about these things.”
“Well, I’m telling you now.” On my way out, I swing my purse over my shoulder and head down the stairs.
“When should I expect you home?”
I’m putting on my gloves when I look up at Amanda who is holding on to the banister of the stairs, a smug look on her face.
“I have no clue.”
“Text me?”
“Of course. See you, sis.”
Excitement fills me as I open the door to find Carter staring down at his phone until he hears me approaching. His eyes turn dark as he eats me up with those chocolate pools. The way he looks at me . . . what it does to me . . . it’s like one look unleashes a thousand butterflies in my stomach.
Never breaking his gaze, he puts down the kickstand of his motorcycle and throws one leg over the middle, dismounting the bike. His black jeans cling to his legs, riding low on his waist, his grey Henley looks painted across his strong chest, and his black leather jacket only intensifies his dark features, making him sinister, yet sexy.
Eep, yes, he’s so freaking sexy.
The total bad boy with the teddy-bear heart. That’s him. I’m sure if I told him that, he would scoff and then go and do something bad just to tarnish his image.
Swaggering toward me, his hand caressing his jaw, assessing me, we meet in the middle of the sidewalk outside my sister’s house. I wait for him to say something, but instead, he takes a deep breath and once again looks me up and down, the intensity of his perusal so strong I shiver.
“Are you going to be warm in that?”
I nod because right about now, my body feels like it’s about to combust from the heat coiling inside.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I answer back, just wishing he would stop staring at me so intensely.
“All right.” He links our hands together, melting me right on the spot, and pulls me toward the bike. “Ready to learn something new?”
Learn something new? What? My brain feels like mush. Pretty sure if I were a cartoon, my head would be spinning around and I would be constantly spitting out the word, “doye” every two seconds.
“Are you?” Carter asks again, shaking my hand.
I mentally chastise myself and formulate a response. “What?” So clever, I know.
Smirking at me, he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and says, “Are you ready to learn something new? You know, our next challenge?”
Our next challenge . . . he smells so good.
Focus, Daisy.
“Oh, yes. I’m ready. What are we doing?”
“You’ll see.” He reaches behind him into a compartment under the seat of his bike and pulls out a helmet . . . with a daisy sticker on the front. “Here, put this on.”
A daisy sticker, right there on the front. A daisy sticker for me. Oh, be still my heart, I might just attack this man when he’s not looking.
“It has a daisy on it.”
“So?” He shrugs his shoulders, passing it off as nothing.
“Did you put this daisy sticker on it.”
Sighing, he looks down at the helmet in my hands and asks, “Are you going to make a big deal about this? Because if so, I’ll just peel the damn thing off.”
“No.” I move the helmet away from him so he can do no such thing. “You better not take off this daisy.”
“Then just put the damn thing on and stop making a big deal.”
Heaven forbid he lets me indulge in his soft side.
I do as I’m told and snap the helmet in place, making sure the chinstrap is tight enough. No point in wearing a helmet if you’re not going to wear it properly. When I’m all set, Carter checks the helmet, making sure I have it properly in place, making me sink a little further into being crazy for the man.
He turns to get on the bike but I stop him. “Hey.”
He looks over his shoulder, giving me another once-over. “Yeah?”
Being as brave as I can be, I circle him so we’re facing each other and slip my arms in his jacket and around his waist. Holding on tightly, I give him a hug, resting my helmeted head against his chest. Frozen, he doesn’t reciprocate the hug, but after a few seconds, he gingerly puts his arms around me and hugs me back, almost as if affection is a new thing to him.
“Thank you, Carter. The helmet is perfect.”
Pulling away, he puts his helmet on as well and says, “Yeah, it will be perfect when I make my friend Fitzy wear it one day.”
He straddles his bike, kicks up the kickstand, and nods for me to hop on the back. Still new at the whole bike thing, I take my time getting on, making sure not to tip us both over only for the heavy machinery to fall on us. Once I’m situated, I slip my arms around Carter’s waist, loving the way I can feel his stomach muscles contract under my hold.
“Ready?” he asks, the visor of his helmet still up.
“Ready.” I grip him tighter.
He flips his visor down, revs the engine, and in seconds, has us speeding down the road toward the highway.
The wind whips by us, his cologne clogging my senses, putting me in a lustful fog where only Carter and I exist, everything else around us is at a standstill.
This man, he makes me feel exhilarated, like a new person. I wonder, does he feel the same way around me? Is he just as exhilarated, just as excited when he’s around me?
It’s almost impossible to think of myself being just as fascinating as Carter. The bitter bug of self-consciousness starts to rear its ugly head but I bite it back, willing myself to think positively. Carter would not come pick me up randomly, without warning, because he thought I was boring. I offer something to this friendship; I’m just not sure what it is quite yet.
CARTER