7. Taking a Chance

Seven

Taking a Chance

Elena

My mouth is dry ... Sahara Desert dry. I'm outside on the front porch, pacing. I run my hands over my jeans, up, down, up, down. It's only a date... but did Axle mean it's a date like let's hang out or a date date? Imagine if my parents or anyone at home discovered I was going on a date with a biker. This is borderline insane. I should just message him to cancel.

"Uh... are you okay?"

The voice makes me jump. Lucy and Cindy are at the door with their bags over their shoulders. "I'm okay," I say with fake confidence.

"You sure?" Lucy asks with a raised brow. "It doesn't seem like it."

"Hmmm..." Because I'm not okay—I'm low-key terrified. "It's early for you two, isn't it?" They usually sleep the day away.

"We have assignments coming up," Lucy answers. "The library is quiet, but the real question is, what are you doing?" Suspicion lines her voice.

The thunderous roar of a motorcycle gets louder. My heart thumps harder the closer it gets. Both girls are staring down our street. I turn to see Axle pulling up in front of our house. I used to think that men on motorcycles were scary, but Axle has changed my mind. His personality is anything but scary.

Axle turns his bike off and swings his leg over it. When he gazes at me, there's a wicked smile on his face. I'm getting the impression that it's his signature grin. The girls gasp behind me, and I don't blame them. He is all man and a far cry from my ex-boyfriend and Lucy's boyfriend.

I take hesitant steps toward him as he strides toward me.

"Elena," he says with outstretched arms.

I'm conflicted, both scared and fascinated by him. He must see my apprehension, because he says, "Don't look at me with those eyes."

I shake my head. "Like what?"

"Like I'm some sort of serial killer luring you onto my bike."

That makes me smile.

He grins. "Much better."

I like how he puts me at ease.

"Have you had breakfast, babe?"

I enjoy being called babe a little too much for my liking. "No, I haven't," I reply shyly. It's not like I could eat, knowing I was spending time with him.

"There's a good café in town you'll like. Have you been on a motorcycle before?"

My eyes widen. Why didn't I realize I would be riding with him on his bike?

"I'll take that as a no," he replies, filling the silence for me. He wraps an arm around my shoulders. I tense up a bit, despite the soothing warmth and the enticing scent of his cologne.

"You'll love it," he says as we walk to his motorcycle. It's black and chrome, and it looks fast.

"What if I fall off?" This is me, the clumsiest person on earth. I step out of his hold. He frowns. "This isn't a good idea," I mumble.

"Scared of enjoying yourself, huh?"

The amusement in his voice irritates me, and I narrow my eyes at him. "No," I clip out defensively.

He straddles his bike. "Well... get on then," he says, passing me the helmet.

"Okay," I reply, but my breathing is chaotic and I'm silently freaking out. I slip the helmet on and do up the straps under my chin. I peer around his bike. "Where's your helmet?"

"You're wearing it."

I start to unbuckle the helmet. "You can have it back."

"Elena, keep the damn helmet on. You're precious cargo. Now stop making excuses and get on my bike."

"Bossy," I murmur under my breath, though guilt about his safety makes my stomach roll. I fumble onto the bike behind him.

He turns his head. "You're going to have to actually touch me. Put your arms around me, hold on to me tight. Keep your legs away from the exhaust and lean when I do."

Simple instructions... I'm sure I'll mess it up somehow. The engine roars to life, startling me as I shift slightly in my seat. "You have nothing to worry about," he shouts over the engine. Easy for him to say. I'm the one risking my life on a death trap with a stranger I've just met. Oh, times have changed.

I inhale deeply, allowing the air to calm my nerves. I firmly wrap my arms around him, and I can feel the defined muscles of his abs through his shirt. When I press my cheek against his back, a sense of warmth flows through me at being so close to him.

I catch a glimpse of my roommates, who are staring at me with bulging eyes, their mouths agape. This whole situation is a shock to me too. I glance at the sky, uttering a prayer to protect me and keep me safe on this death trap.

We accelerate and I let out a squeal. He doesn't go fast, moving with the traffic at a safe speed, which I'm grateful for. We drive down the main street by the beach, where people are walking and exercising on the sidewalks and others are on the beach. We pass my work, and he slows down, pulling off to the side to park.

I swing my leg over the bike and wait for him to get off to pass him the helmet.

"See," he says cheekily, "you didn't die."

It was only a short ride. My legs still feel unsteady. Much to my surprise, it wasn't as awful as I had imagined.

The small café has a checkered black-and-white floor and posters of Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe on the walls. We wait in line, and as we approach the counter, I notice the cashier pull her shoulders back, push her boobs out, bat her eyelashes, and give Axle a flirty grin.

"Hey, Axle," she coos.

He grins. "Morning." He turns to me. "What would you like?"

I peer up at the menu, which is on the wall. I open my mouth to ask what's good here, but as my eyes land on the server, she's looking at me with a pinched mouth. I peer back at Axle. "Pancakes, please."

He nods. "What flavor?"

"Buttermilk with honey."

He nods again, then peers back at the server. "Buttermilk pancakes with honey, and I'll have the big breakfast."

"Sure, and drinks?"

"Coffee and"—he peers at me—"a cappuccino please."

He steps closer to the register as she reads out the price, pays, and then leads me outside to a two-seater table, where we take a seat. I lift my bag to my lap and pull out my wallet. "Here," I say as I unzip it. "How much do I owe you?"

He waves me off. "Put it away. You'll never pay when you're with me."

I follow his instructions, then put my bag down. It's nice of him to pay.

"I want to get to know you," he says.

I clasp and unclasp my hands. "Why?"

He gives me a funny look. "What do you mean, why?"

"Out of all the girls on the website, why did you want to meet me?" I'm pretty sure he could have had any woman on the website, and it's clear from my brief interactions with him that women love him.

He gives me a thorough once-over. "Because you're fucking hot." Heat rises from my chest, up to my neck, and to my face. "And you seemed like a cool person to get to know."

I snort, then cough. Real smooth ... "No one has ever called me cool."

"Who cares what anyone else says or thinks."

He has a point. It sucks that I care.

"My question is," he says, "why did you move here?"

"I wanted freedom, I guess you could say. I wanted a chance to experience what life has to offer outside of my hometown... It's my turn." So many questions run through my brain. I peer at his leather vest, which has a 1% and a War Brothers MC patch on it. "How did you become a member of a motorcycle club?"

"Most of my brothers, who are club members, were in the military. Me and Cash served together. When we got back from the war, we struggled to fit in."

It pains me to see the deep frown on his face as he pauses and looks away.

"We heard of a few veterans who were starting a motorcycle club, so we came to Crown Village to check it out. That's where we met Reaper, Bomber, and Viper. We all just clicked, so me and Cash never left. Then a few more members joined, and now there's seven of us."

A surge of shock courses through me, entwined with guilt for judging him, and grips my heart like a vice. He's so much more than I thought.

He grins mischievously. "What do you do for fun?"

I pause, trying to find my words. I'm boring as hell.

"You know what fun is, right?"

My eyes narrow at the amusement in his voice. I lift my chin. "Yes."

He leans back lazily. "Then what do you do?"

"I read?—"

He bursts out laughing.

"And I enjoy yoga," I add, making him laugh louder.

He slaps his thigh. "Aw, babe, you're so innocent. Don't you go to church too?"

I pout. "I used to. How do you know that?"

He leans over and touches my neck. I suck in a deep breath. I peek down as he pulls my necklace out and lies it on top of my shirt. My parents gave me the gold necklace with a cross pendant on my fourteenth birthday.

"Just a guess," he comments with a smirk, and then he leans back in his chair. That cheeky smile is addictive.

The server comes over and places our plates of food in front of us. My pancakes look delicious, with a swirl of cream on top and strawberries on the side. But as I inspect the pancakes further, I notice a pink tinge, which makes me think they're strawberry rather than buttermilk and honey.

"Here's my number," the server says seductively, "in case you lost it. You didn't call me back."

Axle's eyes narrow. "You can see I'm having breakfast with Elena. And anyway, if I didn't call you, it was on purpose." He waves her off.

The server and I flinch at the same time. I'm feeling secondhand embarrassment.

"Fucking rude bitch," he says under his breath as he watches her leave. Then he looks back at me. "What's wrong?" he asks, staring at my plate of food before looking back at me.

"Nothing."

"No, there's a problem with your food. I saw it all over your face before that chick started carrying on."

"I ordered buttermilk pancakes," I say softly. I hate making a fuss. "I think this might be strawberry."

He leans over and takes my plate, but I grasp the other side of it. "Don't worry, it's fine," I whisper, not wanting to make a scene.

His nose crinkles. "No, it's not okay."

His unwavering gaze makes me let go of the plate. He's not the type to give in. I shrink in my chair with my head bowed as he goes back inside the café. I sit up when I hear his heavy footsteps return.

"You weren't going to say anything, were you?" he asks. "You were just going to eat them, knowing it wasn't what you ordered."

I grudgingly nod. People pleaser... that's me.

He shakes his head. "Don't be shy. If there's a problem, say it. Don't let people walk over you."

I offer him a small smile, appreciating that he stuck up for me. I already know it's something I need to work on. Being constantly criticized by my mother has left its scars.

"You want some of my food while you're waiting?" he asks. His enormous plate of food includes ham, sausages, eggs, bacon, a hash brown, and toast.

"No, thank you."

He picks up a piece of the crispy bacon and takes a bite. "Good, I'm not one to share."

This man has no filter, but he's a giant goofball. "Are you really going to eat all that?" I ask in disbelief.

His smile answers my question. "You bet I am."

"Your profile said you're a mechanic. Where do you work?"

"I'm the road captain of the War Brothers MC and I service, fix, and modify our motorcycles. I'm not a qualified mechanic, though, so I just do it for our club."

"What's a road captain?"

"I plan our rides, ensure our safety, service our bikes. That type of thing."

I tilt my head. "And you get paid to do that?"

After taking a huge bite of egg on toast, he replies, "Sure do."

Wow... he's pretty lucky. "What do you mean, you're not a qualified mechanic?"

"Ah-ah- ah ," he says, wagging his index finger from side to side. "My turn to ask a question."

A sliver of annoyance flows through me. I'm greedy for more information. He's intriguing. I've never known anyone like him.

"Why'd you talk to me? Am I just a one-night stand to brag to your friends about?"

"No!" I shriek, utterly insulted. "Mel created the profile."

He snorts. "It's okay. You don't have to lie. I know you think I'm sexy."

I open, close, then open my mouth. I'm lost for words, and I blush. He's very good looking with that square jaw, piercing eyes, manly beard, and permanent devilish grin, but I'm not telling him that. His head is already too big for his shoulders.

"It's true," I say.

He chuckles. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," he coos.

I laugh, but then I remember what he said. "And I do not have one-night stands."

He adds a cheeky wink. "I'm just teasing."

After a moment of silence, I ask. "What did you mean you're not a qualified mechanic?"

"I'm just as skilled," Axle says confidently. "I was never good at school. I think I'm dyslexic or whatever it's called, so I suck at anything that has to do with reading or writing." He pauses and looks away. "The only reason I learned about fixing bikes was because I stole parts from an old man up the road from our trailer who owned a mechanic shop, and I sold them. When I did it again, he caught me and said he wouldn't call the cops if I paid him off by helping him in the garage, so I did. After the cleaning jobs, he saw I was interested in the bikes he was fixing, so he taught me things, and after that I helped him every day. I loved it."

His bright smile warms my chest. "Do you still spend time with him?" I ask.

His face falls, and I'm immediately filled with regret for asking such personal questions, but I want to get to know him.

"No, he's been dead for a while now."

I'm floored by his honesty, but grateful he shared it with me, nonetheless. "Did your parents care that you spent all your time there?"

"God, you're just going straight for the jugular with these questions." He snorts. "I could have been dead and my parents wouldn't have cared. Too busy getting high in the trailer we called a home."

I lean over and lay my hand on his. "I'm so sorry to hear that," I say sincerely. My heart aches for him. Something flashes across his face before he masks it with a smile, though there's still vulnerability in his eyes.

"I'm okay, babe. It was a long time ago, and I wouldn't change it for the world, otherwise I would have never met Victor, the owner of the garage, or built a life in the MC."

He's an open book, and I'm really liking that about him. He speaks his mind, and it's refreshing. "Thank you for sharing." I mean it. He looks like a badass biker, but he's more than that. Behind the vest are many layers of who he is as a person. I'm captivated by him. Even though I shouldn't be getting involved with him, I crave to know more.

My pancakes arrive and I smile at the server, whose head is bowed. She promptly turns on her heel and goes back inside.

Axle lifts his cup to his mouth and drinks. I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down. I have no idea how that's attractive, but it is.

He leans back. "Let me guess, you were a good Christian girl and, being the book nerd that you are, you did well at school."

I cringe. "Maybe..." He's exactly right.

Axle chuckles. "Oh yeah. You're pretty much the opposite of me in every way."

I gnaw on my lip, not sure whether it's a bad thing or not.

After I eat my pancakes, we chat briefly before we get up. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side, where I smell his cologne mixed with the leather of his vest, and I suppress a moan. Even though I'm startled for a second, I smile up at him. My heart is hammering, but his playful grin disarms me. Surprisingly, I feel a level of ease I never imagined I would experience with him.

We get on his bike, and I smile during the short ride home. Once home, I get off the bike and hand him the helmet, he grabs my arm and pulls me in close. He groans. "I don't kiss women, but I'm fighting the urge to kiss you right now."

My eyes go to his lips, craving a taste. "Well, don't," I whisper. Kissing him is my first instinct. I want to be soaked in his sin.

His eyes widen, then darken. My heart beats heavily. He grasps my necklace, pulls me to him, and captures my lips in a firm kiss. Sheer desire fuels me and I press my lips against his. Hard.

Time freezes. I'm leaning against him and his bike. My hands slip around his neck, my mouth parting. His tongue slides in and meets mine, holding me hypnotized. I whimper into his mouth. His arm tightens around me as my body heats up. With each movement of his tongue against mine, a rush of lust courses through my body, traveling from my veins to my groin. His kiss is demanding and authoritative. I'm at his mercy.

The long, lingering kiss makes my lips crave his as soon as he pulls away. I'm left panting, my head spinning.

His eyes are dark as his thumb caresses my bottom lip. "Looks like an angel, kisses like a demon."

My eyes latch onto his lips again. Axle is trouble, but I can't stop the way my body reacts to him.

I step backward and watch as he revs his engine, pulls out, and does a burnout, his tires leaving black skid marks. My eyes narrow. He shouldn't put himself in danger like that.

I touch my now-plump lips. There's cheering and clapping behind me. I turn my gaze toward the house and notice my roommates. I walk over to them.

"You never mentioned that you know Axle! That's so exciting!" Lucy exclaims, bouncing enthusiastically beside me.

I give her a small smile.

"All those motorcycle club men are hot," Cindy chimes in.

"So where did you meet him?" Jasmine asks, not sharing her friend's enthusiasm.

"Uh, the restaurant." I don't want them to know it was on a dating app.

I like the attention Axle is giving me. Getting attention is new to me, and while he's talking to me, I don't want to share him, regardless of whether they have boyfriends or not.

"Cameron would have hated that," Lia says with a laugh.

I think back and flinch. "Yes, he did. I'm going to go upstairs and relax before I start my shift."

I dart up the stairs, close my bedroom door, and lie on my bed, confused. Axle's a conundrum. A small part of me is still wary of him, but a much bigger part of me wants to learn more about him. He's friendly and warm. There's more to him than what a motorcycle club vest says. That he told me about parts of his life in such a vulnerable way has only increased my curiosity.

I don't know what came over me, but I wanted to kiss him, and as soon as our lips touched, I couldn't stop myself. I was drenched in his scent, his touch, his lips. A wave of euphoria unlike anything I had felt before surged through me. It was as if every cell in my body was buzzing, a sensation so intense that it left me breathless.

I wonder what he meant by not kissing women. He doesn't seem like one to lie, so I gather it's true, but it has me questioning why he kissed me then.

I wish I was close to my sister Ava again so that I can talk to her about it. She got married and I guess she got busy. She doesn't reply much anymore. I miss her so much, especially at times like this. While I don't generally hate people, I'm angry at her husband for taking her away from me.

At work I'm just going through the motions. My mind is elsewhere. I'm quiet when Mel asks about the date, even though she's persistent and asks me loads of questions. I keep it to a bare minimum and don't dare say anything about the kiss.

After my shift, I get into my car and pull my phone out of my bag. There's a message from Axle.

Axle

Hey babe, I enjoyed spending the morning with you. Your kiss was the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. When can I see you again?

I gasp, panicking. What if I gave him the wrong idea? I hastily respond.

I'm not having sex with you.

Hahaha chill, babe. I want to spend time with you again.

I gaze up and peer at the ocean. I wanted to experience life... It's only another date. I refuse to look back and regret not taking a chance. It's not often I'm noticed by a good-looking man like him.

I take a deep breath and type.

Okay, I'll see you after work. Pick me up from my house.