Biker's Virgin

I shook my head and turne

d my back on Gregory in favor of the view. But what I was really seeing was Molly’s face. “I don’t want you hurting her.”

“What makes you think I’m going to?”

“Men don’t change.”

“Is that your observation?” he asked. “Or is that your fear?”

“I’m not in love with Molly,” I said, more emphatically than was probably necessary. “But I do care about her. It’s the whole reason I wanted her to come down here and relax. She’s going through a rough time, and she doesn’t need anything or anyone clouding her head further.”

Gregory stared at me carefully for a long moment. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”

“I’ll back off,” he said.

“Just like that?” I asked in disbelief.

“Just like that,” he nodded. “Based on your reaction, this means a lot to you. I don’t want to lose a friend and a business partner over a woman, even a woman as wonderful as Molly.”

“Oh… Well… Thanks, Gregory,” I said uncertainly.

“Can I ask you a question, though?”

I pursed my lips and nodded.

“Molly is going to meet someone one day,” he pointed out. “She’s not the kind of woman who’s likely to stay single long. So what’s your game plan? Follow Molly around her entire life and chase off every man who shows any interest in her?”

I bit my lip, but I couldn’t find the right words to answer him. Gregory seemed to sense that he wasn’t going to get anything more out of me. He stood up, and his expression was knowing, but unsympathetic.

“If you do have any interest in Molly, act fast, Tristan. She’s not going to be around forever, and once you’ve lost her… You’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”

Chapter Fourteen

Molly

I was scrolling through my Instagram feed when I stopped on a recent post of Jason’s. He was standing in a small group, between two women. Both women were attractive, but it was the redhead on his left that I zeroed in on.

She was tall and willowy, and she was wearing a short dress that displayed her long shapely legs. Her red hair had been blow-dried to a glossy sheen, and her smile seemed to light up her face. I felt my heart beat a little unevenly as I stared at her near perfect face.

I remembered the first time I had ever met Lizzie Strauss. She had accompanied Jason and Tristan home one holiday while school was out.

I had been fifteen at the time and had been looking forward to their visit for months. I had stood by my window for two hours before Jason’s familiar car pulled up in the drive. I had watched expectantly, desperate for a glimpse of Tristan. When he stepped out of the vehicle, my heart had skipped a beat, but the joy I felt had been short lived.

A few seconds later, the back door of the car opened and Lizzie got down. Even back then, she was all leg. She had been wearing denim shorts with a tie-dyed crop top that showed off her flat stomach, her belly button piercing, and the tattoo on her left hip. She looked like something out of a movie, an Amazonian beauty that reminded me of everything I was not.

I had watched with a sinking feeling in my gut as Tristan had placed his arm around her and they moved into the house. I had suffered through the whole weekend, watching from afar as Tristan and Lizzie exchanged little gestures of intimacy that seemed to cement their bond. I hated when she laughed at his jokes, put her hand on his leg, or leaned into his body as though she had a right to be there. I had felt physically sick the whole weekend. And at night, I would cry myself to sleep, wondering how I was going to survive knowing that Tristan loved someone else.

The morning that Tristan, Jason, and Lizzie were set to depart back to college, I had found Lizzie in the backyard overlooking the cornfield. I had watched her silently and enviously for a long while until she had turned around and spotted me watching her.

Her smile was sad, and perhaps that was what made me approach her. “Hello,” she said, as though we had just met.

“Hello,” I had replied.

“We haven’t spoken much this whole weekend,” she had said.

When I didn’t say anything, Lizzie turned her gaze back to the cornfield. “Don’t waste your time mooning after him, Molly,” she had said unexpectedly. “You’ll only wind up getting hurt.”