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—Simone—
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Each time I glanced in Banks’s direction, my chest grew tight. Insecurity crept into every crevice. Every now and then he’d check his watch before glancing at me, making it difficult to focus on serving patrons without spilling their drinks.
I wanted to drop my walls and let him in, but fuck, I was scared. Losing Reagan was by far the hardest life event I’d endured to date and there were times I didn’t think I’d make it through the grief.
I sniffed to remove the sting of tears from my eyes, frustrated that the heartache still held me in its suffocating grip.
“Last call!” Wendy hollered at the top of her lungs, startling me from my past, then again when she rang the last-call bell like she was angry with the world.
With my hand pressed over my racing pulse, I laughed. “A little heads up would have been great. I almost screamed!”
Her rambunctious laugh filled the pub. “Where’s the fun in that? Buckle up, Simone, last-call gets wild.”
And Wendy wasn’t joking; after we finally got the last of the patrons out at 1 a.m., I was absolutely exhausted. With Banks nowhere in sight, I breathed a second sigh of relief.
Saul locked the pub door while Wendy and Amy swept up.
“Good work tonight, Simone,” Saul praised. “We really threw you in the deep end. Friday and Saturday nights are our busiest nights, so congrats girly, you survived night one. Tomorrow will be a repeat, so make sure you rest up during the day.”
He clapped me on the shoulder as he walked past, and I let out an exhausted laugh.
“Now that we’ve stopped, I’m exhausted.”
“How are your feet?” Amy asked.
I groaned. “So sore.”
“Mine killed me for the first few weeks after I started here. They adjust though.”
“I really hope so.”
Wendy weighed in, offering her advice. “Give them a massage before you sleep; trust me, you won’t regret spending the extra few minutes tending to your feet before falling into bed.”
I wriggled my toes, noting which ones rubbed on the side of my shoes and how my heels felt bruised from standing all night.
“They’re definitely tender. I can’t wait to take my shoes off.”
I yawned my way through clean-up, then let out a grateful, albeit lackluster whoop when Wendy declared we were done for the night.
“Did you drive?” she asked. “We can drop you home if you need us to. Lavender Cottage is just around the corner.”
I grimaced, hating that I was putting them out. “Is that okay?”
“Sure is,” Saul chipped in. “Go grab your gear.”
I gathered my belongings, then followed them and Amy through the front door. We were nothing but a few steps into the night when a large figure stepped from the shadows. Mine and Amy’s matching gasp had Saul and Wendy whirling.
Banks lifted his hands. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare the shit out of you all.”
“Well you did!” I cried, both annoyed that he’d stuck around while weirdly thankful that he’d kept his word.
“I almost peed,” exclaimed Amy. “You owe me for that, Banks!”
He chuckled and rubbed his grin. “Sorry, Amy.”
She gave him a sassy glare that triggered my hackles. Was that prickling jealousy I felt straightening my spine? I crossed my arms and eyed her for a moment until I realized how bitchy my stance seemed. Readjusting, I settled for my hands casually tucked in my front jean pockets and forced an amicable smile.
“Goodnight everyone,” Amy called, then aimed a flirty finger at Banks. “You suck, but goodnight.”
Sure, I had zero claim over Banks, but I couldn’t hold back an internal growl as Amy made her way to her car. When Banks returned his attention to me, all it took was a single wink to settle my envy while loading my belly with butterflies.
Saul locked the front door, then playfully shoved Banks. “Thought I was going to have to fight my way out of that for a second. Hiding in the shadows after closing is dumb, boy.”
Banks laughed and playfully raised his fists. “I can take ya.”
Saul scoffed, then frowned at Wendy when she added, “My money’s on Banks.”
“Well, shit, woman. So much for having my back,” Saul sassed.
I snickered and weighed in on Saul’s side. “I’ve got your back, Saul. I’m sure we could take him.” My eyes flicked up and down Banks’s body, openly appraising him.
He grinned under my scrutiny. “Ready, Simone? I’ll drop you home.”
My eyes narrowed. “Straight home?”
His grin widened. “Yup.”
“I don’t believe you,” I deadpanned.
Banks sent his arms wide. “Hey, I’m a trustworthy guy. Just ask Saul and Wendy.”
Wendy pouted while Saul laughed and declared, “Well, you’re not an asshole, so you could be worse.” He then turned me to me. “I’m happy to drop you off still, but also happy that Banks will see you home safely.”
I worried my lower lip with my teeth and looked between the two men. Banks cut the awkwardness with a ‘loud’ wave of his hand.
“C’mon, new girl. Our week starts tonight, remember? And we’re kicking things off with a lift home.”
I puffed out a hard breath. “Fine. Okay.” Then I smiled at my bosses. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”
Wendy pointed at me as they headed for their vehicle. “Remember to massage those feet, girly. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
They slid into their car and pulled the doors closed with a double soft thump, leaving me alone in the dark with Banks.
The air around us changed. It tensed and thickened. Filled with expectation when I wished there was none.
Trying to downplay the awkwardness, I glanced around. “Where’s your car?”
Banks chuckled. “We’re biking.” He pulled his BMX from the shadows and kicked a leg over to straddle it.
I shook my head. “That thing isn’t built for two.”
“Yeah, it is. And you have options; you can either stand on the rear foot-pegs and hold onto my shoulders or sit on the crossbar up front. Forewarning, though, it’s not comfortable on the ass bone.” He slapped said crossbar between the handlebars and looked at me expectantly. “Pick your position: front or back?”
“There’s no need to make it sound dirty. And back,” I grumbled.
Banks’s chuckle had my stomach flipping as I set my hand on his shoulder and one foot on the closest foot-peg. “How am I supposed to get on?”
He glanced over his shoulder, face much too close to mine for this time of the night where shadows amplified desires, and smirked.
“Now who’s making it sound dirty?”
I clapped him on the shoulder, making his laughter ripple across the darkness. “Climb on and stand on both foot-pegs. I’ll hold the bike steady.”
“You’re sure you won’t drop me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Simone. Get on.”
Under the illuminated beam of the security light, I entrusted a man with my body for the first time since Reagan. I held my breath while climbing aboard and gripped Banks’s shoulders harder than necessary.
“Good?”
“Apparently,” I deadpanned.
Without warning, he pushed off and started pedaling, making me shriek when the bike wobbled precariously from side to side.
Banks’s laugh rang out through the night as we rode into it. “In hindsight, we should have started on the sidewalk, not the gravel parking lot.”
“No shit,” I sassed, holding on for dear life as we bumped and zigzagged before finally making it to the road. “Don’t we need helmets?”
“Nah. Grew up without one. Small-town leniency and all that good shit. Hold on, we’re going to go a little faster now.”
I complied immediately, not caring that my fingers clawed at his shirt-clad shoulders. His muscles and bones flexed and moved under my hands, giving an intimate feel to an otherwise platonic bike ride.
The tires whirred along the road as we picked up speed and, as I found my balance, I began to relax.
“You good back there, new girl?”
“Yes, apart from the bugs flying into my face.”
Banks snickered. “Keep your mouth closed. It’s the worst when they hit the back of your throat.”
“It always is,” I deadpanned, intentionally making the innuendo clear.
“Are we still talking about bugs?”
I feigned innocence. “I was. What are you talking about?”
Alarmingly, one hand left the handlebars and Banks reached down to squeeze my ankle.
I looked down and gasped when the movement set us off-balance. “What are you doing?”
His voice was wry. “Checking the size of your ankles for when I hogtie you at a later date.”
Despite laughing, my fingers clamped again. “Let me off. I wanna walk home.”
“Absolutely not. I would ask you to hold on tighter, but you’re already cutting off blood flow to my arms.”
He flexed his shoulders and neck, making me feel bad right up until the moment he swerved unexpectedly across the deserted road. Then back again. Left and right. He zig-zagged in and out of the white lines with me clinging for dear life to his back and completely at his mercy.
“It’s fun, huh!”
“No! It’s incredibly not fun!” I yelled. “And you just missed my street!”
If I hadn’t been scared stiff and gripping tight, I would have knocked Banks upside the head.
Again, he laughed, more breathless this time. “I’ll circle back in a minute. First, we’re going to do the hill.”
“The hill?”
“Yep.” Before I could protest, Banks rose on the pedals and practically put his ass in my face as he leaned into the hill climb.
The stance put his shoulders out of reach, and with nothing else to hold onto, my hands were forced to drop lower. I internally screamed as they found his torso. His incredibly toned torso. One that flexed and pulled taut with each side-to-side movement.
Banks grunted and dug deep as we approached the brow of the hill. “It’s a little heavier with your ass on the back, new girl.”
I scoffed. “At least you don’t have an ass in your face like yours is in mine.”
“I could think of many bad things to have in my face, and trust me, your ass is not one of them.”
“It should be. I’m so out of shape.”
“That pert little thing?” He snorted. “I don’t fucking believe you.”
I looked down at the road beneath our tires to stop me from checking out his jean-clad ass.
“You need to speed up, we’re almost at a stop,” I teased, which pulled a satisfying growl from Banks.
“It’s the lead weight behind me.”
A scoff left my mouth. “No, you’re pedaling too slow.”
He let out a low, almost sadistic laugh. “Oh, you’re going to regret saying that.”
We reached the top of the hill, and I relaxed a fraction when the bike evened out. The reprieve was short-lived. Banks didn’t sit down and pedal again like expected; he remained standing and let out a loud whoop as we picked up speed.
My voice wobbled with fear. “Banks! You’re going too fast. Slow down.”
His joy increased, right along with my death grip on either side of his waist. The wind whipped through my hair, pulling tendrils from my ponytail and lashing them against my face. It felt wild and out of control, and it took my breath away.
“Banks! Slow down!”
“Relax, Simone. I can feel you tensing.”
“Because I’m shitting myself,” I yelled.
He sat his ass on the seat then, forcing me forward. My chest hit his back and knocked the wind out of me. I wanted to scream with fear but not a single sound came out. Completely at his mercy while bear-hugging his torso, I squeezed my eyes shut and internally shrieked.
When we finally freewheeled to a sedate pace, I jumped off before he had the chance to pedal again.
Banks skidded to a halt and planted one boot on the road. “Why’d you bail?”
I threw up my hands and breathlessly exclaimed, “Why do you think?”
“Get back on, babe,” he deadpanned.
“Nah-ah. I’m not getting back on that deathtrap.”
He flapped his hand. “Oh, come on. I was totally in control.”
“Yeah, until we crash.”
Hand still raised, his eyes widened. “We didn’t crash!”
“I’ve seen you crash.”
His indignant splutter filled the night. “That wasn’t a crash! You literally pushed me off my bike.”
I slammed my arms over my chest and failed to hold in my laughter. “You were annoying the fuck out of me. Besides, all I remember is you cycling too close to the edge. How’s that new birth canal treating you?”
“Not well, I can assure you,” he drawled wryly, then flicked his head. “Get on, darlin’. I’ll take you home now; we’re going back the way we came.”
My feet remained rooted to the spot. “Not after that ride.”
“I’ll promise to keep my ass out of your face.” His smile made my heart skip a beat, and I cursed its traitorous, erratic rhythm.
I narrowed my eyes, not budging. “Pretty sure that’s impossible when riding uphill.”
Trepidation rose the nanosecond he slapped the handlebars. “Ride up front then. No ass in face from there. Can’t guarantee no bugs though.” He smirked.
I eyed the thin crossbar between the handlebars. “Will that hold me?”
“Hells yeah it will. That’ll easily hold you ten times over.”
My eyes met his. “Promise you’ll go slower?”
“Cross my beatin’ heart.”
After hesitating, I finally reneged. “Okay, fine. And only because I’m tired, my feet are killing me, and I want to get home already.”
Happy with the decision, Banks turned the BMX around, then braced it while I awkwardly climbed on. Sitting with my back to him, I squeaked when the balance shifted.
“I’m not ready! Where do I hold?”
He took one of my hands and placed it on the handle grip close to my ass. The fleeting touch, while innocent and designed to aid, had my pulse tripping and my chest pulling tight.
“Right here, new girl,” came his low murmur that further stole my breath.
When he placed my second hand, the graze of his fingertips briefly against my hip created a flood of heat and pressure in my core. A single, harmless touch shouldn’t invoke reactions like those, yet when his voice spoke close to my ear, it heightened every single sensation.
“Exactly like that. Ready now?”
“Uh... Maybe I should be on the back again,” I stammered.
Banks pushed off without giving me an option. “Nope. Too late. Lean a little to the left so I can see over your shoulder. Wouldn’t want to end up in the ditch, would we?” he teased.
“Focus,” I hissed, then squeaked when he turned the handlebars. I hadn’t expected my feet to move with them. “Oh my god, I’m scared.”
“Don’t be. I got you.”
As we started the uphill climb, I leaned forward a little to counter the angle. Banks’s subtle grunt, then the bike surging rhythmically, told me he’d stood up to pedal.
His breathy laugh had me biting my lip. “See: no ass in face.”
“Thank fuck for small mercies.”
He chuckled, then puffed out a breath. “Okay, hold on and lean back a fraction.”
The instruction was needless; as soon as the road angled down, I involuntarily leaned back, feeling my shoulders brush against Banks.
He seemed unaffected by the close contact, whereas every cell in my body roared to life, immediately becoming overstimulated by his every little movement and sound.
A throaty hum against my ear set fire to my blood. “Hmm, you smell good.”
My laugh came out shrill. “I’ve just done an eight-hour shift in a bar. There’s no way I smell good.”
“I disagree,” he murmured, before falling silent.
My body savored the rare male contact. It had been so long since my skin heated from a man’s warmth, and despite the terrified warnings filling my head, my soul yearned for the long-overdue intimacy. It had me torn between the past and the present.
“You okay?” Banks murmured. “You’ve gone quiet on me.”
I swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah. Just beat.”
My street approached, and he slowed a little. “Lean into the corner, sweetheart.”
I did as instructed, then jumped off as soon as he cruised to a stop at my gate. I looked up from my toe crunching a pebble to find Banks studying me closely.
“Thanks for dropping me home, even if it was the long route.”
“My pleasure.” His grin slipped, and his eyes narrowed under the dim glow of the streetlights. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I forced a smile. “Just exhausted.”
He nodded, despite appearing unconvinced. The pause filled with an expectation neither of us was going to fulfill. It brimmed with attraction I refused to acknowledge. And judging by the nervous pass of his tongue across his lower lip, Banks sensed it too.
He smiled a little. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Banks.” I inwardly sighed with relief as I hurried up the driveway, along the garden path, then up the porch steps.
Banks waited on the street until my front door was open and the porch light illuminated me under the yellow glow. “Goodnight, new girl. Remember to massage those feet!” he called before pushing off.
A trail of laughter flowed behind him as he headed in the direction we’d come from. His presence seemed to linger long after I closed the door and locked it.
By the time I crawled into bed, freshly showered and feet massaged, his laughter wasn’t the only note that wouldn’t leave me; the feel of his body brushing mine awoke a part of me that broke after Reagan passed away. I’d shoved it deep down where I couldn’t be hurt again, so feeling that dormant ember beginning to find its first breath of life after so long terrified me.
As if that ember rekindled Reagan’s spirit, a subtle waft of fragrance from his nearby cologne bottle carried on a non-existent breeze, bringing crushing guilt with it.
The barbs around my heart twisted and pierced, and as I reached for my little knife, tears filled my eyes. All I wanted to do was escape the pain, so I didn’t have to run from it anymore.
