Five
1058 Words
Standing in front of my dorm, shivering in my dress, I wondered if this night would go as terribly as I had imagined. How in the world had they gotten Weston to agree to drive me to the Montgomery’s place? Was it all a ploy to stand me up and leave me in the cold waiting for someone who would never come?
Looking at the time, that looked most likely. He was already thirty minutes late. But then again, the last time we had lunch, he was over an hour late. Did he have no concept of time?
A gleaming motorcycle came to a stop in front of me. I took in the powerful machine with distracted eyes. The bike looked more expensive than my mother’s house and all our belongings combined. I never knew how some people felt safe riding those death traps. I would never be caught dead on one. Or maybe the entire problem with them is that I would. The rider stopped the engine and took off his helmet.
You have got to be kidding me.
Weston smirked at the look of disbelief on my face. He got off the bike like he was shooting a tryhard music video and approached me. He wore a fitted leather jacket, jeans and boots that looked like they could stomp your face in. In short, he looked like a picture of a sexy bad boy come to life.
Weston did a double-take when he saw me. “What the hell happened to your face?”
I had almost forgotten about the swelling on my forehead until him. I guess that explained why everyone had been giving me second looks while I stood here. I thought the swelling had gone down a bit but clearly not enough.
I scowled and said in a biting tone, “Someone thought it was a good idea to closely acquaint their ball with my face.”
He let out a surprised laugh. “That’s certainly not what I was expecting.” He gestured to his bike and said, “Well, get on Freckles. Your chariot awaits.”
My mouth opened and closed without any sound coming out. I looked at the bike and then at him before swivelling back to the bike. “There is no way you’re expecting me to get on that… that contraption.”
He chuckled and ran a careless hand through his hair. “This is no regular contraption, princess. This here is my baby.”
I looked down at my heels and dress. A glare coloured my features; I was not dressed for whatever he had in mind. He was also eyeing my outfit with a thoughtful look and seemed to come to the same conclusion.
He pulled his jacket off and set it over my shoulders. I was too stunned to do anything but stare. “Here. You look like you’re about to turn into a popsicle,” he grumbled.
It was warm and smelled of expensive cologne and a scent that was entirely his. I did my best not to breathe in the tantalizing scent like a crazy person. He was a jerk and there was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me swoon for his jacket.
He grabbed a spare helmet from a compartment on the bike and approached me again. I took a few steps back and shook my head vehemently. “There’s no way you’re putting that on my head.”
“Unless you want your brains to paint the ground if we get into an accident, you’re going to have to wear this.”
“... but my hair…”
He ignored my protests and put the helmet on my head anyway. He strapped it under my chin and gave me a thunk on the side of the head. I glared at him through the visor and hoped he felt my stare.
“Couldn’t you have come with a car? I’m sure you have one… or five,” I grumbled.
“And miss travelling in style while seeing you uncomfortable as hell on my bike? God no.”
“You’re deplorable.”
“You always have such a diverse vocabulary. Do you read dictionaries in your spare time?”
“These are basic words anyone with half a brain would know. I’m sorry if your teachers failed to give you a sufficient enough education.”
He laughed. “Insult me more, Freckles. You’re turning me on.”
I gave a huff of disgust. He got on the bike and put his helmet back on. I took hesitant steps towards him and sat behind him. I’ve never been on a motorcycle in my life and so far, it was uncomfortable as all hell. I hoped I didn’t flash anyone.
I loosely wrapped my hands around his waist and prayed I would survive whatever was coming next. Weston snorted before grabbing my hands and pulling until my arms completely encircled his torso. I was pulled into the heat of his body
I was about to loosen the forced hold but then the motorcycle took off. I screamed. My hands tightened around his waist like a vice and didn’t let go. I felt if I loosened them even a little, I would fly off the bike and become a pancake on the streets.
My heart pounded in my chest as the psycho put more gas in it and went faster. My voice was hoarse from the screams and the curses I let out. I heard Weston laugh in a way I could only interpret as evil.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my face into his back. I was never riding on one of these things again. I didn’t care how much it would cost, I was going to take a cab back home.
Just when I thought it would never end, Weston slowed until we came to a stop. My hands peeled off him, feeling stiff from the death grip I’d had on him. If he had a bruise around his waist from how hard I’d been hugging him then I honestly wouldn’t be surprised. I got off the bike on shaky legs, feeling the adrenaline still running through my veins.
I took in my surroundings. Oh my god. Did people actually live like this?
- Writer
