Chapter 19

Lucy

Tiffany knocks on the table to grab my attention. "Hello? Anyone home?"

On Saturday morning, Tiffany, Janelle, and I are enjoying our periodic breakfast at our favorite hole in the wall, and my mind is on Chance. He and I are spending the day together—again—and I don't know what to do.

"What's on your mind?" Janelle presses.

I fidget with the hem of my shirt, the fabric twisting as I finally spill the words that have been blooming in my chest. "I think—no, I know I'm falling for Chance."

Janelle's eyes light up. She claps her hands together in delight. "I knew it!" she exclaims. "Lucy, this is fantastic! I'm telling you, he's got it bad for you too. He absolutely detests it when you're out on dates."

The warmth from Janelle's excitement should spread through me, but it's dampened by a lingering cloud of doubt. "But he's still hung up on Céline," I remind her, my voice dropping to a murmur. "It's not as simple as you make it sound."

"Lucy, honey, you've got to talk to him about it," Tiffany chimes in. "It might be exactly what you need to break out of this friend-zone purgatory."

"I tried and fell asleep during Barbenheimer last night," I counter with a humorless laugh. "I also acted like an idiot once he told me I was strong and assertive. One little compliment, and I was ready to jump him."

Janelle reaches out, her hand warm on my arm. "Everyone stumbles, Luce. It doesn't mean you stop walking the path. You just need to find the right moment, and when you do, everything will fall into place."

"I think you should jump him," Tiffany adds. "Attach your face to his and climb that man like a tree."

I hear the rumble of a motorcycle, and my heart races. Today, there's no rain in the forecast, and Chance and I are exploring more of Vancouver, so we're taking the bike. He's convinced I'm going to love the exhilaration of the wind in my face and the bike between my legs. I had to bite back my comment about what I'd prefer between my legs when he told me that.

Rising, I prepare to leave Janelle and Tiffany behind at the diner. They're going shopping downtown at the boutiques on Robson Street. "Have fun. I'll talk to you later." I wave.

They wave to Chance through the window.

"You two have fun, and do everything I would do," Tiffany says.

I can feel my face heat.

Chance grins at me and hands me a helmet as I step outside. "I take it Tiffany is up for anything?"

"What? You read lips too?" I'm mortified, and we haven't even started our day together .

"You could say that." Chance helps me with the chin strap and looks me over. "Don't look so worried. You're going to do great." He reaches into a saddlebag and pulls out a black leather jacket. "I thought you might like this."

I grin. "Thank you!" I shrug into the jacket, and it fits perfectly. "Were you worried I was going to embarrass you in my fleece?"

Chance laughs. "Not at all. This is just a little safer, and it will block the wind."

I nod.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Let's do this. Show me the power between my legs." Oh gawd, did I just say that?

Chase looks down at the ground, and his shoulders bounce with laughter. He straddles his bike and holds out his hand. "Put your feet there and climb up right behind me." Once I've done that, he adds, "Hold on to my waist and lean into the curves. And try to enjoy it."

I reach around him, and every nerve in my body goes on high alert.

He pushes off, and we ride down the street. It feels like everyone we pass looks at us. I usually feel awkward and clumsy, but right now, I'm at the cool kids' table.

After a bit, we pick up speed, and the world blurs past in a rush of exhilaration as I cling to Chance's back. The motorcycle purrs beneath us, a steel beast on the open road that leads to Capilano Suspension Bridge Park. It was Chance's idea to come here, and his suggestion seems like serendipity. Maybe I'll even weave Tiffany's advice into our Saturday plans.

"Here we are," he calls over the rumble of the engine as we pull into the parking lot. The bridge looms ahead, a thread of adventure strung across the rushing water below. My heart skips with anticipation, not just for the hike, but for the conversation that hangs between us. Will I be brave enough to have it?

"Ready for this?" I ask, slipping off the bike and pulling off my helmet.

"Always," he replies with his easy smile, yet there's a tightness around his eyes I haven't noticed before.

We buy our tickets and join the throng of people at the bridge's entrance, the structure swaying gently with the collective movement of footsteps. I steal a glance at Chance, trying to read his expression as the bridge begins to wobble more noticeably under the weight of the crowd. The river, far below, runs loud and gushing.

"Whoa," he murmurs, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "Didn't expect it to be this…lively."

"Are you okay?" I probe, noticing his knuckles turning white as he grips the railing.

He chuckles. "I'm not exactly a fan of heights," he admits.

Without thinking, my hand finds his, fingers lacing with a comfort that feels as natural as breathing. The contact seems to ground him, and together, we step forward, joining the slow procession across the bouncing bridge. Each bump and sway tests our balance, but Chance's grip on my hand never falters.

"Look at us," I tease, hoping to ease his tension. "Braving the heights together."

"Couldn't do it without you," he says.

By the time we reach the other side, my pulse isn't just racing from the precarious crossing. It's this new closeness with Chance, one that might just shift the balance between us.

Solid ground on the other side is a welcome relief, but my heart feels suspended in mid-air. Still, I can't help but feel victorious. We made it.

"My heart's going a mile a minute here," he confesses, his voice shaky but laced with laughter as we move away from the bridge.

I study him, the way the sunlight filters through the trees and plays upon his face, casting it in warmth and soft shadows. "You did great," I assure him, stepping closer. I rise on my tiptoes, aiming for his cheek. But as I lean in, Chance turns his head ever so slightly, and my lips brush against his instead. It's a spark catching flame—unexpected yet impossible to pull away from. The world falls silent except for the sound of our synchronized breaths.

The kiss deepens, lengthens, and time loses meaning. Our break is abrupt, a mutual retreat driven by surprise more than intent.

"Sorry," he stammers, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean—"

"Chance," I interrupt, my own surprise melting into a smile. "I think I kissed you first."

His laugh is a release valve, and the tension that had built up dissipates into the forest around us.

"I'm sorry if that's not respecting your wishes," I tell him. "I don't usually kiss my friends, but…"

To my relief, he nods. "It's a bit embarrassing how in line with my wishes that was." He looks down a moment. "Being your friend is wonderful, but I'm pretty sure it's not enough."

"Okay, then. I guess we open ourselves to other possibilities?" I don't want to push, and I'd really like him to meet me halfway on this.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then he just nods. "I think that's perfect," he says.

We spend the rest of the afternoon hiking the trails, conversation flowing as easily as the river below us. Laughter comes naturally, and there's an undercurrent of excitement, a buzz that neither of us names but both of us seem to feel.

Hours later, back at my place, I fumble with my keys with one hand, the other still clasped in his. As I finally push open the door to my building, I turn to him with a smile. "Starving?" I ask.

"Definitely," he agrees, following me inside and up the stairs.

"Let's order something," I suggest as we repeat the key struggle at my apartment door. I kick off my shoes and pad into the living room. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Anything," he replies, but his attention doesn't seem to be on food. His gaze lingers on mine.

We decide on Thai, and as we wait for the takeout to arrive, the space between us diminishes until there's none. No room left for anything but the magnetic pull drawing us together. This time, when our lips meet, there's no hesitation—just the insistent, growing need to be closer. His hands find my waist, mine wrap around his neck, and the world fades away.

The buzzer sounds, a distant, almost inconsequential noise, and we part with reluctance, breathless and flushed. The evening stretches out before us, filled with promise, and I can't help but think we've crossed more than just a bridge today.

Chance's forehead meets mine. "I've got this."

I nod, and he disappears down the stairs.

He's back within moments. He sets the delivery bags on the countertop, the scent of spicy noodles hanging in the air, but our meal is promptly forgotten. Chance's fingers are on my spine, tracing fire down the length of me, and I arch into his touch, a gasp slipping from my lips.

"Lucy," he murmurs, voice hoarse, his breath hot against my earlobe.

"Chance," I whisper, tugging him closer, eager for the rough stubble of his jawline against my skin. There's an urgency between us, one that's been simmering since our eyes locked over the trembling bridge, since our lips crashed together in an unintended confession.

I spin around within his grasp, and we're chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. Electricity jolts through me as I press myself against him, capturing his lips once more. His hands roam with purpose, mapping the terrain of my body with a possessiveness that sends shivers to my toes. He's everywhere all at once, and it's overwhelming, intoxicating.

"Bedroom," I manage to pant, though the distance feels like miles when every nerve ending begs for more. We stumble through the doorway, a tangle of limbs. Clothes are shed in a trail of reckless abandon, a testament to the fevered need taking hold of us.

Rid of our jeans and T-shirts, I lie on the bed, my heart racing at the sight of Chance's bare chest. I run my fingers over his defined abs. The bulge in his boxer briefs makes me shiver with desire.

Chance's dark eyes meet mine, filled with a hunger that mirrors my own. With a low growl, he closes the distance between us, his hands tangling in my hair. I gasp as his lips crash against mine, igniting a fire that has been smoldering between us for far too long.

He breaks the kiss. "Are you okay with this? Tell me now because I might not be able to stop once we start."

I nod my consent. "I want you."

Chance's eyes glint with lust. With a smirk on his lips, he leans forward again, this time trailing kisses down my neck, leaving fire in his wake.

My breath hitches as his lips brush my collarbone, and my hands find their way to his shoulders. I hold on to him tightly, desperate for the contact. He continues to kiss his way down my body, and as his lips reach my chest, I feel a tremor of excitement coursing through me.

With a deft move, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my panties, but then he pulls back slightly. "You're sure about this?" he asks again.

"Yes," I whisper, my voice shaking but determined. "I want this. I want you."

A wicked grin spreads across his face. "If it becomes too much, just tell me."

His mouth attaches to my breast, and I arch my back. He pushes his thick fingers into me, and I groan with pleasure. My nails dig into his shoulders as he explores my body, every touch sending shockwaves coursing through me.

His fingers are magic, twisting and stroking, touching the deepest parts of me, bringing me to ecstasy. As I rise to meet him, our bodies meld in a desperate dance of need. The air grows heavy with the scent of sweat and desire.

He moves lower, his lips grazing my stomach, and I feel a jolt of heat spreading through my body. His fingers tease my core, and I cling to the sheets as he begins to lick and explore me. I'm lost in the intensity of our connection.

Our eyes meet.

"You taste so good."

As his fingers delve deeper, I cry out, my hips bucking against him. His mouth finds my clit, and he sucks it deep. I moan loudly as his tongue dances over me. I'm lost in the sensations, the only sound in the room my breathy whimpers of delight.

And then, just as I'm on the brink of shattering, Chance withdraws his touch, leaving me yearning for more.

"Don't stop," I plead, but he simply smiles.

He rips a foil wrapper and rolls on a condom, and I feel like I could combust as I wait. But then his eyes lock onto mine as he crawls up my body. I feel the head of his erection pressing against me, and I arch my back to meet him.

With a low growl, he enters me, and I cry out in pleasure. Our bodies sync into a rhythm, hands gripping and pulling. "You feel so good," he whispers.

I tug him closer, our breaths mingling as we lose ourselves in each other. Sensation builds within me, growing stronger with each thrust. Time seems to slow, and our movements become more intentional, more focused.

Then the release hits, my body shaking as I nearly scream in pleasure. Chance groans, his own orgasm taking over. After, we lie spent, our bodies still joined. Our breathing slowly returns to normal, and I smile. This may have been worth the wait.

We pull apart, and he rests his head on my chest. "That was incredible," he whispers.

"I agree."

We're a mess of sweat and tangled limbs, and in the dimming light, I can see the glint of something new, something terrifying and wonderful, in Chance's eyes. We've crossed a line we can't uncross, and that's just fine, as I don't ever want to go back.