To Have It All(70)
When she reached me, she walked her two fingers up my stomach to my chest, before tapping my nose. “Like I said,” she whispered, “it’s pretty.”
I stared at her, stunned as she spun around and leaped back on the sidewalk. When she glanced back at me, she gave a little shrug. “I did some research.”
“I see that,” I rasped.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m just . . .” I blinked a few times. “I’m turned on.” That was an understatement. The information she divulged was basic, she’d probably just looked it up on the internet, but the fact she even took the time to do it . . . and that sexy as hell voice she used as she spoke had my blood pumping. Sexy woman talking about a sexy bike equaled a worked up Liam.
She must’ve noted my excitement because she groaned in mock annoyance. “Okay, Liam. Are we going to ride this thing or not?”
Throwing my leg over the bike, I steadied it. “These aren’t usually two-seater bikes, so I had to put a sticky pad on the finder for you to sit on.”
“Swell,” she said dryly as she climbed on behind me. “Sounds super safe.”
“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to, ya know?” There was nothing I wanted more than to ride with her, but I knew she was anxious about it. I didn’t want her to feel like she was being forced.
“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t,” she quipped back. That I didn’t doubt. “Besides,” she sighed, “Today seems like a perfect day to do all kinds of crazy. Ya know,” she pondered, “Believe another man is inhabiting my ex’s body. Ride a motorcycle with said inhabiter.”
I chuckled even though her words caused me some alarm. I knew what I asked her to believe sounded insane and she hadn’t had a long time to process it. Her words made me wonder if she was still having doubts that I was telling the truth. Having her trust and faith was important to me. Brushing off the worries, at least for the time being, I decided to give it the day. I wanted her to spend a day with me, all secrets exposed, and give her a chance to decide. I knew there was a difference between her wanting to believe me and actually believing me.
Before starting the bike, I gave her a few instructions on what to do with her feet and how not to lean in turns and so on. Reaching behind me, I grabbed her arms and wrapped them around me, pressing them to my chest. “Just hold on tight,” I instructed her. “You’ll be fine.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To see a friend,” I answered.
Walking the bike out a little, I hit the kick start, and it roared to life, vibrating beneath us. Waverly squeezed herself to me, and I couldn’t help grinning. I wasn’t sure life could be any better than this; this moment. This was it. This was a moment I would never forget—a beautiful day to ride my bike with my woman.
Okay.
Neither were mine, technically, but for today I would pretend they were. It was quite possibly the last day of my life, and I would squeeze every drop out of it. As we sped off, my heart thundered in my chest because for the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt happy.
If someone had asked me before climbing on the Panhead if I thought I would enjoy the ride, I would have said no. Like I said, it was a control issue. Putting my life in someone else’s hands, especially on a speeding motorcycle—hell no. It took a few minutes for my body to stop tensing and relax, but Liam wasn’t lying—he was a great driver. He didn’t speed or do any kind of crazy turns. He took it easy on me and for that, I was grateful. We rode for an hour, weaving in and out of the congested streets. When I’d agreed to ride with him, I’d imagined us flying down some long road, but navigating through the parking lot that was New York City, we didn’t get to go very fast. There was quite a bit of stop and go, but for my first time riding, I think it was best.
Eventually we ended up at the 5th Street Pier which has an amazing view of the Manhattan skyline. As we walked along the pier, the wooden planks creaking softly under our feet, Liam took my hand and laced our fingers together. The day was sunny, but there was a light breeze that seemed to make the heat tolerable. Stopping at the railing, I leaned on it, closing my eyes, letting the wind caress my face. This day felt perfect—too perfect. It was simple in the most literal definition of the word, but it was anything but simple. Sometimes it is in the plainest of moments we find the most beauty. A bike ride, a quiet walk hand in hand—it was heavenly. Liam came behind me placing his hands on the railing on each side of me, gently pressing his body to mine.
“What are you thinking?” he whispered.
“I’m thinking I wish every day could be just like this one,” I admitted, the thought making me frown slightly.
“I feel the same way.” Dropping his head, he rested his forehead on my shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, unable to turn and see his face. I mentally scolded myself for asking—I knew exactly what was wrong. What I should have asked was the question he had asked me—what are you thinking?
“I might die tomorrow,” he responded bluntly. “Or I may live, as Max, for the rest of my days. Neither feels like a great outcome.”
My body seemed to tighten and uncoil all at once with his words as anxiety lassoed me. The unknown was by far the worst in this situation. There were several possible outcomes, and all of them came toting a huge con list. There was one possibility; one fleeting ray of hope—that Liam would wake up in his own body. Somehow, despite the phenomenon of the situation, it felt as if Liam waking up as Liam was the least likely. I wasn’t sure if that was because it was what we wanted most, and in life, we seldom ever get what we wanted, or if it was because the odds were so stacked against him. He was brain dead and going into organ failure. Laying my hand on his where it sat on the railing, I did my best to comfort him with what limited options I had, given the position we were standing in.