Chapter 39

RIDE ME

39

A few days later I come home early, eager to surprise my boyfriend and make love to him non-stop on his day off work. But when I get to my building, the apartment is quiet and still. A coil of unease winds its way around my heart.

"Killian?" I call out. No answer.

Did he go for a run? Disappear like he never existed at all?

I know now that fear of him melting out of existence is mostly irrational, but I'm still about to freak out big time, when the doorbell rings, making me jump. I rush over, heartbeat thudding, and push the buzzer. "Yeah?"

"Sugar Spoon!" Killian's voice calls out. "Come downstairs, please, I have a surprise for you."

"Killian?" Relief and a mild curiosity flood through me—but mostly relief he hasn't vanished. I don't know when I'll stop expecting him to poof out of existence. Probably never. "What surprise?"

"Come down and find out!"

"Alright, I'm coming!" I call, curiosity now taking the lead.

I rush down the stairs, nearly tripping over my own feet in my eagerness to see what Killian has in store for me. When I burst out of the apartment building, there he is, standing next to a shiny pink bike with a big red bow tied around the handlebars.

"Oh my gosh, is that for me?" My hands fly over my mouth.

Killian grins, his gray eyes twinkling. "Promised you I'd teach you how to ride one day."

"Killian! It's beautiful!" I gush, admiring the brown leather saddlebags hanging over the back wheel and the cute basket on the front. My eyes linger on a scratch on the paint of the frame, but it doesn't bother me. Killian must notice, though, because he suddenly looks sheepish. He passes a hand through his hair, nervously explaining, "I had to buy it used… you know, I still don't make a manager's wage."

"Killian, shut up." I go to him. "The bike is perfect. You're perfect." I grab him by his jacket and pull him down into a kiss. The bike is crushed between us, adding pointy and awkward angles to our embrace, but neither of us cares.

I smile against his lips, the warmth of his body pressing against mine, a pleasant reminder of how real he is.

As we break apart, Killian gives me a lopsided grin. "You ready to give it a try?" he asks, gesturing toward the bike.

"Yeah." I laugh, feeling a thrill of excitement. "But you'll have to be patient with me."

"Sugar Spoon." He circles the bike and nudges my hips with his. "I've been nothing but patient."

I laugh again and shove him playfully with my shoulder as we walk toward the park. "Alright, Mr. Patience, let's see if you can handle me on wheels."

Once we're in a paved section of the park, I approach the bike with an exaggerated caution that makes Killian chuckle. Gripping the handlebars, I throw a leg over and settle onto the saddle, unsure.

But Killian's hands are steady on my waist as I wobble slightly, helping me find my balance.

"Just remember to look ahead, not at the ground," Killian instructs. "I'll push you along until you get the hang of it."

Gulping nervously, I nod and grip the handlebars until my knuckles turn white.

"Easy now."

"I've got a feeling that's your talking-to-a-horse voice, cowboy."

He laughs a deep, easy sound that does wonders to soothe my jittery nerves. "Maybe it is, but it works, doesn't it?"

Killian starts to push me forward gently. His hands are warm and reassuring. I pedal tentatively while he walks beside me, his presence like a security blanket.

He gives me a couple of laps, before warning, "Okay, I'm letting go now!"

His hands leave my waist, and suddenly the world is spinning out of control. But instead of toppling over, I find myself moving forward—actually balancing. The wind catches in my hair, sending it flying behind me, and I can't help whooping triumphantly just before I spectacularly crash to the ground.

"You okay?" Killian is by my side at once.

"Yeah, I think the jeans saved me from scraping my knees. My pride might be dented."

"Want to give it another go?"

I beam at him. "Absolutely."

"Maybe next time, drop your feet to the ground if you lose balance."

"Noted."

We keep going until I can make a turn on my own without dropping my feet to the ground for stability. We're both exhausted, me more from the excitement than the actual amount of pedaling I did, Killian from having to run after me in circles.

We sink on a bench in the park, watching the sunset over Lake Michigan.

As we sit there side by side, the orange and purple hues of the dropping sun reflect on the lake's surface, turning it into a canvas of light and color, reminding me a lot of the first sunset we watched together.

I reach out and take hold of his hand, smiling at him even as tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "I love you, Killian. Not the cowboy billionaire, not the bartender, but you. Just you."

"And I love you, Leighton," he says. "Just you, with your stubbornness and your wild laugh and your terrible sense of balance."

"Such a beautiful bastard."

We kiss in the fading warmth of the sunset and in this moment, everything feels right. The past and the future merge into a beautiful present, where love exists beyond the pages of a book.