What had changed since their date? Nothing - except perhaps Sasha’s encouragement for her to not let it mean too much and just go with it. She was right, of course. Lucy’s instinct was always to flee anyone showing more than a passing interest in her. She was one of those girls who never fretted if a guy didn’t call after their date, even if that date included the mind blowing sex like she’d had with Ryan. She had goals and letting a man get in the way of them, especially an Alpha, was not an option.
Still, Ryan interested her in a way that most of them didn’t. They all pranced around with their superior attitudes and a sense of entitlement that Betas didn’t possess. You could go out with a Beta, fuck his brains out and he’d never call you, because most of them were out for a good time and that’s all. Even if they did call, you knew it was just a booty call or boredom. They needed someone to get out for the night with or they were horny. You could leave in the middle of the night and they wouldn’t blink an eye.
Lucy had behaved very much like a Beta in her life. She didn’t need some controlling Alpha trying to tame or conquer her. The last thing she wanted was some over-muscled Neanderthal telling her what to do or knocking her up with a litter of pups. At least, that is how she had always viewed life with an Alpha. Something about Ryan seemed different. He was in shape, big and powerful with muscles for days, but not the kind that shaped him more like a silver backed gorilla instead of a man.
He struck her as confident and assertive, but not overbearing or overly possessive. He could probably be both of those things when he wanted. It was a part of his nature. Still, she didn’t plan on getting to quite that level with him. A bit of fun and a very casual relationship seemed to be what both of them were looking for and she was good with that as long as he was.
There was the sound of a motorcycle pulling up nearby, but she’d not heard his car in the driveway yet. She was surprised when the doorbell rang and she opened it to find him standing there in a pair of jeans, motorcycle boots and a distressed leather jacket. Behind him sat an impressive motorcycle, though she had no clue what it was. Her expertise in motorcycles was about as extensive as her skills in brain surgery.
“I hope you’re hungry. I’m starving,” he told her.
“We are going on that?” she said, nodding toward the bike. She’d heard him say he’d pick her up on the bike over the phone, but she’d expected one of those big Goldwings like her father used to have. This looked more like something a Hell’s Angel would ride.
“Sure. You aren’t afraid of bikes are you?”
“No. I just . . . Well, I’ve never been on one.”
“What? You’re a wolf shifter and never been on a motorcycle? Half the packs in America exist in motorcycle clubs.”
“Not my pack and I’ve just never dated anyone that picked me up on one. I never even rode on my father’s bike.
“That sounds like disappointment.”
“Oh. No. No. It’s not disappointment. I - uh - I just . . . I’m not used to it. That’s all.”
“Should we go then?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Oh, you might want to put on a jacket. I know it’s fairly warm out here for January, but it will be much cooler out on the bike.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Lucy grabbed her own leather jacket off the coat hook just inside the door and slipped into it, then followed him out to the bike, where she hesitated. He helped her put on the spare helmet before putting on his own and climbing on to steady the bike while she watched.
“Just throw your leg across and hold on to me. You’ll be fine.’
“Okay.”
Lucy did as he said and scooted up toward him, pressing her body onto his and folding her arms around his waist. He reached down and pulled them further around him and then cranked the bike, backing it out of the driveway and pulling onto the street before easing it forward along the street that led to her house. Once he hit the main road at the entrance to her small subdivision, he opened it up, roaring down the highway toward the restaurant that sat at the base of the mountain trails.
“I’ve never been here before,” she said as they climbed off the bike and removed their helmets.
He took them both and hung them on the handlebars before walking inside with her, pulling out her chair after they were shown to their table and walking around to the other side. She pulled off her jacket, as well as the sweater underneath, and sat down. Ryan followed suit, revealing that he was wearing a faded yellow sweatshirt that said “Woodstock.” Instead of it being a reference to the music festival, there was a sketch of the bird from Charlie Brown beneath the letters. She smiled as he hung his jacket on the back of the chair and sat down across from her.