Bike

by Kat Terrell

Deidra and I were strolling down the sidewalk. A matte black motorcycle was parked in front of the drug store. I stopped.

“What? Coffee, remember?”

I rarely paused for anything on my way for coffee. “It’s beautiful.” I held out my arm. “Look at those sleek lines.”

“Crazy woman. It’s a motorcycle!”

“A Ducati. Work of art.”

“Black ugliness. The coffee shop?”

I waved her on. “I’ve never seen one live before.” I moved closer. “See how the curves make it look like it’s already going fast?”

Deidra stood there, hands on hips, rolling her eyes, “No.”

“Look at that Harley over there. See how clunky it is?”

“They’re machines, Vonda.”

I resigned myself to never getting her to understand. Deidra glared, tapped her foot. “That’s it. I’m going.”

“I’ll be there soon.” My breathing had slowed, my back muscles relaxed; physical reactions to such a pretty thing.

A dark-haired man stepped up next to me. His matte black jacket and pants matched the bike. His unzipped jacket showed a pale green shirt underneath with the top four buttons undone, revealing significant chest hair. I had a vague sense he was clean shaven with a nicely shaped chin, laughing eyes. Chest hair. I felt like I’d won the lotto. Bike and man.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes.” Simple answers are sometimes the best.

“Would you like a ride?”

“I love to look at them, but I’m terrified of riding.”

He looked me over. Slowly. Grinned. “Bikes? Men?”

“Bikes.” I smiled, one corner of my mouth higher than the other. “It takes a long time for me to be comfortable enough to ride a man.”

“I’ve never backed off from a challenge.”

I raised an expensively plucked eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Interested in some iced coffee? There’s a shop just up the street.” He pointed in the opposite direction Deidra went.

I was attracted to this man. Dangerously so. I should say no thanks and go. I wasn’t always sensible when viewing beauty. “I’d love to. I’m Vonda.”

“BJ. Let’s ride there.”

“Hold on.”

“Backing off from the challenge already? We’ve barely begun.”

I took several deep breaths. Looked into BJ’s inviting brown eyes. I really wanted to have my fingers entwined in his chest hair. “Not the bike.”

“Shame.” He tipped an imaginary hat, strode over and mounted. I felt the motion of his hips as he settled on the seat. Felt my hips wanting to respond.

He looked hard at me. “Sure you don’t want to come?”

Oh, I wanted to come all right. Just not out here in public.

He winked as if he knew what I’d just thought. “You did say bikes terrified you. Shouldn’t push you.” He twisted a bit, patted the seat behind him. “Join me. Get the feel.”

I hesitated.

“I won’t start the engine.”

Oh, honey, the engine’s already revving.

“Come on, sweetheart. It’s not the end of the world.”

I stepped forward.