Page 1 of Loyal
This cannot be happening.
That’s my only thought as I look down at my flat tire. Of course, the one night I have off of work, and without my daughter, is the night my car has a flat.
Pulling out my phone, I send a text to Gina, my coworker and best friend, letting her know I am not going to make it to the bar.
Gina: Want me to give you a ride?
Before I can answer her, I hear it. The telltale sign of a motorcycle. Ever since the new neighbor moved in, I have been hearing it more and more. The man is gorgeous. Dark brown hair that hangs down to his ears. Tanned skin for days. Then there are those bright green eyes that look like they can see into your soul. Add in the motorcycle jacket, and I swear James Dean has nothing on this guy.
He has to be in his early twenties, which makes me feel guilty when I think of how much older than him I likely am. I have to have a decade on him. Still, it doesn’t stop me from staring discreetly as he pulls into his driveway.
It doesn’t hurt that when I see him, my body wakes up. I haven’t had sex in so long that I have no idea how I would evenhandle a man like my neighbor. My ex-husband was a simple man. He liked missionary and only stayed in the game long enough for him to get off. I often waited for him to fall asleep before I would finish myself off next to him in bed.
What would I even know about dating a biker like him?
“Hey,” he calls out.
I give him a wave like I always do, turning back toward my car. I expect him to go inside. It’s our routine. I don’t even know his name, that’s how often we talk.
Yet today is different. He moves closer, startling me when he comes to stand next to me.
“A flat, huh? You got a spare?” he asks.
I nod. “I do. I haven’t gotten that far yet. I was canceling my plans.”
He moves toward my trunk, waiting for me to pop it, so I do.
“Big date?” he asks.
“No. I was meeting my friend. I already canceled on her.”
Looking back down at my phone, I see I have two more texts from her.
Gina: You haven’t answered. Is everything okay?
Gina: If you don’t answer, I’m coming anyway. We watch too many true crime documentaries for me to not think you’ve bene taken by your killer.
I quickly text her back, using our code.
Me: Jalapeño. I’m fine. My neighbor came over to help.
Gina: The hot young one?
I sneak a look at him as he pulls my spare from the trunk and moves toward the flat tire.
“It shouldn’t take me but a few minutes. You don’t have to wait out here with me. It’s hot as fuck.”
“You are,” I blurt out, then clear my throat. “It is. Very hot, but I will stay. You are doing me a favor after all.”
He nods and gets to work as I answer Gina.
Me: The very one. He is changing my tire so I can meet you after all.
Gina: Absolutely not. You are going to invite him out as a thank you and bang that guy into next Tuesday.
Me: He’s a decade younger than me.
Gina: He is legal, and if he is willing, there is nothing wrong with it. You have to start living your life sooner or later.
