But I can’t even think of anything.
Tasha is so… Perfect.
Yeah, she’s got her personality quirks but who doesn’t?
She’s tall, leggy, and slim. She’s got the body all the guys want and she knows it.
She can afford to be particular, even mean when she wants because she knows she has what I never will.
That DNA. Those good genes that mean she can eat whatever she wants and still have clothes fit her, have people look at her in appreciation and not scorn.
“I-I’m sorry I brought up your mom Tasha. But there’s no need to-to—” I stammer, trying to keep calm.
Trying not to let my feelings get trampled.
“Do you really think you could have any sort of a chance with someone like my dad?” she asks, cutting me off.
Her face freezes when she realizes just how far across the line she’s gone by saying that.
“What do you mean, Tasha?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. “Do you really think there’s something so wrong with me?”
It’s a dumb question. One I’ve asked myself a thousand times.
But it hurts that Tasha would even think something like that, let alone say it like its ammunition.
“I think I’ll just go,” she says, and grabbing her bag and keys without even looking at me, she’s gone too.
Just like her dad.
The sound of her car peeling out of the driveway seems to echo the feeling I got when I heard his bike not long ago.
It makes me feel… empty.
The man I know I’m crazy for and now his daughter, my best friend, both leave me in the space of an hour.
Tasha and I have never even raised our voices at each other, let alone fought.
It’s a horrible feeling I get inside once she’s gone, but at least I know I’m not imagining it.
She knows.
Or she imagines something is going on.
At least I know Slade isn’t angry with me, he’s just gone home for the night.
My mom’s face hovering an inch from mine isn’t how I wanna start my day. But the volume of her voice startles me awake long before I even understand what she’s going on about.
“Tasha never came home last night and now her father’s here,” she practically shouts, as if it’s all my fault.
Slade’s here?
My first instinct is excitement, followed by annoyance.
I’m stoked he’s here, but I always look terrible first thing.
“Did you say Tasha never went home?” I ask my mom. My stomach jolting with anxiety.
Until I remember the horrible things she said to me last night.
Mom has taken up residence next to my bedroom door, determined to get me up and out of bed to deal with this personally for some reason.
As if I have a remote control over my best friend.
Slade though.
Here?
God, it must be serious if he’s come here personally.
“I’ve got another shift in twenty minutes young lady, and I don’t appreciate being woken up by bikers first thing in the morning,” she snaps in a whisper, lowering her voice when she uses the B-word. She gives Tasha a run for her money in the spite department, but I have to flatten my lips to avoid grinning.
Slade. Biker. Two words that make me dizzy with joy whenever I think about them.
“Okay, okay,” I groan, putting my fingers to my temples, trying to focus, I tell mom I’ll be right out.
“Tasha is probably at Brad’s anyway,” I yawn, figuring she really could only be at one of three places.
Here, at home or with Brad. That’s Tasha’s life these days as far as I know.
“What about the kids?” I call after my mom, but only I catch fragments of her ramblings as she storms down the hall, slamming the bathroom door before I hear the faucet running.
Guess they’ve already been picked up.
With mom in the bathroom, I’ll have to face Slade as I am, and I’m not a morning person that’s for sure.
He’s waiting in the lounge, which is cleared of kids, so yep. They’ve been collected already.
Phew.
His huge back is to me as he looks out the biggest windows in the house. But he doesn’t seem tense, or worried.
Not from behind anyway.
I take my time to study him. But by the time my eyes have slid down to his tight butt in those jeans, I let out the sigh I’ve been holding and blow my cover.
“Abby,” he says, turning in a second. Smiling wide, after checking it's all clear, he scoops me up and kisses me.
Picking up right where we left off last night and not even minding my morning breath or the fact I look like I’ve been dragged through a bush.
“You smell good,” he groans in my ear.
“I missed you,” I squeak, not meaning to sound so clingy, but if there’s one thing I could cling to forever, it’s this man’s body and I don’t care if he knows it.