Out of Mind (Out of Line #3)(47)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

“I can’t.”

“Just one little ride.” He reached out and pushed a tendril of hair behind my ear. “I promise to behave myself. Come on. You miss it, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter if I do,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“If you go with me and hate it,” he said, clenching his jaw. “I’ll stop coming by your dorm. I’ll stop giving you messages and flowers. I’ll leave you alone.”

I swallowed hard. He’d leave me alone? No more flowers and inspirational notes? The idea was as tempting as it was painful. I was such a mess of emotions right now that I didn’t know which way was up and which way was down anymore. “I don’t know. There’s too much…” Love. Pain. Desire.

When I didn’t finish my sentence, he offered me a small smile. “Well, let’s find out. If you still hate me when we’re done, and don’t want to see me again, I’ll back off. Give you some time and space. Stop showing up every day.” He held his hand out. “Let’s go for a ride and for some lunch. You’re done with classes for the day.”

I frowned at him, not bothering to admit I didn’t hate him. I could never truly hate him. “Someone has an inside source.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “What can I say? You’re my favorite subject.”

“Then you shouldn’t have dropped out.” I walked past him. “I’ll go with you, but then you’ll be leaving me alone. Be prepared. And friends don’t hold hands, Coram.”

He laughed and followed me, sounding way too happy for someone who was about to be told to hit the road. “Fair enough.”

I looked at him again, unable to believe this was the same Finn who had broken up with me. “Why are you acting so normal now?”

He stole a glance at me. His blue eyes shined even brighter in the sunlight, making them seem unrealistically blue. “I told you, I’m better. I go to a therapist now, just like you suggested I should,” he said softly. “She’s helping me a lot.”

I nodded. “I’m glad.” I stole another glance at him. “And your arm?”

“Better.” He looked down at it, wiggling his fingers. “I only get aches here and there. The headaches are a bitch, though.”

I frowned. “You still get them?”

“I’m told I’ll always get them.” He shrugged. “But I’m not on meds any longer. I just lie down if it gets too rough. And I don’t drink.”

I stopped by his bike. He had my helmet sitting on it, and I felt a sharp pang of loneliness at the sight. God, I’d missed him. It was true. I watched him closely. He looked so different, and yet exactly the same. “This is weird, isn’t it? I should go…”

“No. It’s not weird at all. It’s just the new normal.” He grinned at me and grabbed my helmet off the bike, looking eternally optimistic. “Put this on, get on the bike, and it’ll all feel right again.”

I took my bag off and handed it to him, just like I used to do. Looking down at the rose in my hand, I tucked it into the bag as an afterthought. He slid it over his shoulder and sat down, lowering his own helmet over his head. I looked back at Marie, who shot me a Really?! look. I shrugged and slid the helmet on before settling onto the back of the bike. But once I was there, I didn’t know what to do. Should I hold him like I used to, or was it not necessary to get quite so close?

He looked over his shoulder. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. I gripped the side of his shirt loosely, leaving plenty of room between us. His skin burned through the fabric, and his hard muscles taunted me, and I hadn’t even touched him. God, he felt so freaking good. And even scarier was the fact that it felt so right. As if I’d finally found the missing piece of me I’d lost. “I’m r-ready.”

“Only if you’re hoping to fall off the back and skin your pretty little ass,” he called out. “Hold on tighter, or you’ll throw off our balance.”

I scooted up more, still not touching my front to his back. To do so would be dangerous to my mental well-being. “Better?”

He shook his head and twirled his finger in a circle. “Scoot closer. I told you I would behave, and I will. Hold me like you used to. Friends do that on bikes, I assure you.”

“Fine.” Rolling my eyes, I glared at his back and slammed my body fully against his. I held back a groan, just barely, but he didn’t even bother to try. Hearing him groan made me want to do something else to make him do it again. It reminded me of the sound he always made when I used to…uh, never mind what it reminded me of. “Better?”

“Fuck yeah.”

He revved the engine and pulled away from the curb. As soon as the wind hit my face, I grinned bigger than I had in a long time. Being back on his bike, holding on to him, it felt right. He swerved in and out of traffic, taking the slow roads to our old restaurant. I hadn’t been there since he left for…wherever it was that he went. I still didn’t know.

I wonder if he could tell me now?

Man, I had so many questions. Questions I had every intention of asking him once we were at Islands. There was so much I wanted to know. He revved the engine harder, zipping between two cars. I laughed, and if I wasn’t mistaken?

So did he. I’d missed that, too. So freaking much.

By the time we pulled into the parking lot, I couldn’t hold back my excitement at being back on his bike. Of being with him, if I was being honest. I wasn’t. I hopped off the bike and tore my helmet off, laughing. “That was freaking awesome.”

He laughed, watching me with a warmth in his eyes I hadn’t seen in way too freaking long. It stole my breath away. “Yeah, it was.”

I smoothed my hair with a shaking hand. “When did you start riding again?”

“Two weeks ago,” he said, running his hands over his head. He didn’t need to worry about his hair being messy. He looked perfect, as always. “I wasn’t ready until then. But my therapist told me I should try again, so I did.”

“What does she say about me?”

“She said I should reach out to you, if I was ready.” He met my eyes. “So I did.”

“And you listened to her.” I set my helmet down and twisted my hair into a ponytail. Finn liked it down better, but since we weren’t dating anymore? Ponytail it was. I hated wearing my hair down. “That shows a lot about where you are.”