He had just called my head gorgeous. I couldn’t think about anything else at the moment. I was too focused on that. Was I asleep? Was this another one of my dreams? If so, it was a really good one. Except we weren’t kissing yet. I liked the dreams when we were kissing the best.
I walked over and placed my hands on his shoulders as he instructed, then slung my leg over the seat and sat down behind him. He said to hold on tight, but did he mean to his shoulders? I had seen people on motorcycles enough to know the riders on the back typically wrapped their arms around the drivers, but I didn’t know if Tripp wanted me to do that. Before I could think about it any more, he reached back and pulled my arms around his middle.
“Tight, sweetheart. Hold on tight,” he repeated, and I did.
Pressing my chest against Tripp’s back was amazing. With every breath I took, all I could smell was him. I felt the hard warmth of his back against my chest, and everything tingled. I was thankful it was dark and he couldn’t see exactly how much my body was enjoying this.
The Harley came to life underneath us, and we were off. The hold I had on Tripp instantly tightened as he sped toward the main road. My heart was beating so fast I was sure he could feel it. This was exciting. I never did dangerous things. I was responsible. I had to be. My dad wasn’t around much, and when he was, he didn’t want me there. I was a constant reminder of my mother, who had left him with a kid and run off with another man. He hated her for abandoning him. Not us. Just him. He was selfish, but then, so was my mother. So I did everything I could to prove to him that I wasn’t like her.
Aunt Darla would be so disappointed in me right now, but I couldn’t help it. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Girls like me didn’t get to ride on the back of Tripp’s bike. He was untouchable. And tonight he’d seen me. He’d saved me. Again.
I was sure there would never be a man who compared to Tripp. He was the epitome of perfection. And I was just another girl from the trailer park. Someone he wouldn’t have noticed if it hadn’t been for Aunt Darla. He liked her. He was doing this for her.
As much as I needed to remind myself of this, I didn’t want to right now. I just wanted to memorize how good his body felt against mine. The taut muscles in his stomach flexed as he turned onto the street that would lead us toward the club and around the wealthier part of town. I lived the other way. In all the excitement of being driven by Tripp, I forgot to tell him where I lived. My trailer wasn’t in Rosemary Beach. There weren’t trailers in Rosemary Beach. The average house there cost at least five million dollars. My trailer was thirty minutes north of town.
I could have him take me to the club. Aunt Darla would still be working. She lived closer, because Mr. Kerrington supplied her with an apartment on the property. She would be upset with me when I explained what happened, but I couldn’t ask Tripp to take me all the way home. It was too far.
“Just take me to Aunt Darla’s office,” I told him, leaning close enough to his ear so he could hear me over the wind.
He turned his head slightly to the right, closer to me. “I know where her apartment is. I thought that was where you lived.”
I wish. Life would be so much easier if I did. Aunt Darla was the one person I knew loved me unconditionally.
“No, but that’s OK. I live too far out. I’ll just go to her tonight.”
Tripp didn’t respond at first, and then he slowed down and pulled into a service station. When he came to a stop, I had a moment of panic, because I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with my legs. I didn’t want to make his bike fall over. That would be horrible.
Tripp placed both legs on the ground. The sight of him under the lights from the store sign, his wonderful body straddling his Harley, was just another image I would commit to my memory.
Then he turned to look back at me. “Is Darla going to be upset with you about this?”
I could lie to him, but something about those eyes of his made you want to tell him everything. So I shrugged, keeping my mouth shut.
A smirk appeared on his perfectly shaped lips, and my complete focus went to his mouth. The bottom lip was slightly more plump than the top, but it was so slight a difference that most people wouldn’t notice. I was just obsessed with him, and I noticed everything. In some of my daydreams, I had sucked on that bottom lip. It was very suckable.
“Bethy?” His voice broke into my fantasies, and I jerked my gaze back up to meet his. He wasn’t smirking anymore. He looked amused.
“Hm?” I replied like an idiot. He’d just caught me staring at his mouth.
“I asked you if you’d rather I take you home. I don’t mind the longer drive. You’ve had a rough night. I don’t want you having to face an angry Darla.”
She would be angry. I wasn’t sure what she was going to be more angry about: me going to Rush Finlay’s house party with Jonathon or me riding on the back of Tripp’s motorcycle. I had a feeling she was going to be equally mad about both.
“I live thirty minutes away,” I explained, dropping my gaze to the oil-stained pavement instead of looking into his eyes. I didn’t trust myself not to get lost in another daydream.
“With your parents?” he asked.
“My dad.”
He let out a low whistle. “Dad or Darla? Which one is gonna be more pissed?”
I let out a sigh. Dad wouldn’t be home tonight. He stayed out most Friday and Saturday nights, since he didn’t have to work the next day. “Darla. Dad won’t be home tonight.”