The Redemption(61)

“What do friends give each other then?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Like sweaters and stuff. Maybe a trinket box or flowers, but a motorcycle is too expensive.”

“I don’t even know what a trinket box is.” He points back to the bike, and says, “And that bike was not expensive.”

“It’s like my old one?”

“Yeah. An ’87 Honda.”

“Okay, it’s not expensive but it’s still too much.”

“The thought is too much?” He laughs and takes my hand in his. “Let’s walk.” And we do. The sun is dipping into the ocean, reflecting like magic dust on the surface. He adds, “I bought the bike because of what it represents.”

“I’m lost, Dex. Tell me what it represents.”

“You know what you once told me about riding motorcycles?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t remember. It’s been too long since I had one to remember my philosophies on the subject.”

“I remember. You said, there’s always a chance of death when you ride a bike, so it makes you appreciate the life you have.”

Standing just before the water can touch our feet, I say, “That’s deep,” which makes him chuckle.

“Yeah, it was pretty profound at nineteen. It means more today.”

I start to laugh, but I don’t continue when I realize he’s being serious. Instead, I turn my head to face into the wind and close my eyes. When I reopen them the sun is almost gone. “I got rid of my bike when I got pregnant with Neil.”

He nods. “Makes sense.”

The horizon is the only bright spot left. “How’d you remember what I said after all these years?”

He comes to stand between me and the view. “Because it changed my life… you changed my life, Rochelle.”

“See,” I say, backing away. “You do that. You say these things to me and make me feel special when I haven’t earned it. I’m not special.”

“You’re special to me.”

“No!” I turn on my heel and stomp my way through the sand, kicking it up in the process.

“You can’t just yell no and walk away, Rochelle. It’s not that simple. We’re not that simple.”

He’s right. We’re not. Coming to a halt, I stop with my back to him and drop my head down, feeling the emotions beginning to wash through me. Smothering my weaknesses, I spin around and point my finger at him. “You can’t do this to me anymore. We’re not together. Dex.”

“I was going to have sex with Firenza so you would hate me. So you wouldn’t come on rides with me up the coast at sunset or come by with your kids. I wanted to f*ck her to make you f*ck off.” He comes closer and I stand there stabbed by his words. “No one believes in me. No one. They believe in my drumming, but not in me. You’re right. I’m no good, Rochelle. I’m no good for you or your kids. I’m not the one you should be standing next to if a photographer snaps your picture.”

“I don’t understand this back and forth with you.”

“I didn’t either and then I woke up this morning and realized I’ve suffered enough. You’ve suffered enough. But when we’re together, it’s all good. We stop suffering and the rest of the bullshit falls away and… You need to know that I see you as pure and good. You’re loved by everyone. You’re perfection to me.” He stops in front of me and wipes my tears away. “So this slow or medium or whatever it is, it’s okay for now, but one day I’m gonna be good too. I’m gonna be good enough for you.”

“Don’t tell me these things—”

“I’m not gonna tell you, sweetheart. I’m going to show you. One day I’ll deserve to be the one standing here.”

No matter the anguish I feel, I’m captivated by this man. “And until then?”

“Stop dating jerks like me.” He walks around my stunned body and heads for the bike.

Running to catch up, I say, “So you brought me out here to tell me to stop dating *s?”

“No. I brought you out here to watch the sunset. The rest is a just a perk.”

I don’t bother stifling a laugh. He may be cocky, determined, too sexy for his own good, but he’s also wise. Tossing him the key as I pass by him, I say, “You can drive back.”

“You sure?”

Grabbing my helmet, I say, “I’m sure.” And I am. I’ll let him drive this relationship for awhile and we can start with the motorcycle.

I wrap myself around him, molding to the back of him, resting my head to the side. I rub the soft leather, then my hands slip inside the unzipped front to find the cotton blowing over his stomach. Squeezing tighter, his shirt waves up, and my hand is against the firm muscles. My legs tighten around him, the rough back of his jeans hitting me and making me want him. I’d forgotten how much motorcycles turned me on, especially when riding with a hot guy.

His hand covers mine and I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of being this at peace again. Letting my mind go back to the beach, I think about what he said and the side effects of our relationship. But I realize, they’re not side effects. They’re consequences of our actions. And like all actions, we have a choice to make, a price to pay, and a lesson to learn—consequences.