Page 24 of Seasons of Love
I was doing that very well on my own, considering in my head I'd been calling this a date.
A date.
Just because he said we wouldn't be working on the bike.
Just because it was Sunday didn't mean this was a date.
And just because we nearly kissed before Tom interrupted us, it didn't mean Slade wanted to kiss me. At all. No matter how much I wanted to kiss him.
I'd spent the whole week sneaking peeks at him while we worked. I just couldn't help myself.
Slade was unlike any man I'd met before.
On the outside, he had this bad-boy biker look going on. I'd noticed the tattoos that peeked from under the short sleeves of his work shirts and wondered if he had them only on his arms or elsewhere on his body.
His hair was a perfect mix of grey and white, shorter on the sides and back and longer on top, and then there was his long beard. Richard had always had a close shave, so I'd never considered how I might enjoy or appreciate facial hair on other men.
Slade was also kind and patient. Even after a whole day at work, he still had time for all my questions. He seemed to be going through the process of breaking the bike into its several parts, with the joy of a child playing with their favorite new toy on Christmas morning.
There was only one topic he'd avoided. Every time I mentioned motorcycle clubs, he changed the subject. He was nice about it, but I could tell it wasn't something he wanted to talk about.
Which, of course, meant I was even more curious about it, and him.
I arrived at his gate with five minutes to spare. My heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to pass out. Dammit, I should have had more than half a bagel for breakfast.
The big metal door to the garage was closed, as was the gate to the alleyway to Slade's place.
I couldn't see a bell either, but since we agreed to meet at ten, I figured he'd be down soon, so I sat on the concrete step outside.
More thoughts of Slade filled my head. Whatever the day brought, I was really excited to be spending more time with him. My new daily routine consisted of writing in the morning followed by research while I tried to not arrive at the garage so early that I'd come across as overly keen.
I was so lost in thought that when I felt a bump against my back, I jumped up from the step.
"What the—"
A kitten was on the other side of the gate, sitting on its back legs and staring at me.
"Hello, you. Was I in your way?"
I crouched to his level, thinking he'd probably scoot off to his home, but he just stood there roaring at me. He had a beautiful ginger coat and green eyes, but he was so small that he couldn't be an adult yet.
"Are you lost?"
He replied with another tiny roar.
"You have quite a big roar for such a little kitten," I said, reaching out to him slowly. "I hope you're not lost, buddy."
He stretched out his neck to meet my hand and bumped his head against my fingers. I turned my hand slowly to pet him, but suddenly he ran back toward the alleyway.
A minute later I saw Slade come down the stairs at the end of the alleyway holding a bunch of stuff.
"Hey. Sorry, I realized too late that you didn't have my number and there's no doorbell. I hope you weren't waiting long."
My brain struggled to form words at the sight of Slade in black jeans, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket.
"No, not waiting long…um, just got...here. What have you got there?"
"This jacket is for you to wear and this is your helmet," he said.
