Biker's Virgin

“Happy to oblige,” I said. “I love you.”

The words just slipped out; I certainly hadn’t been planning on saying them right then. But maybe this was like what Amy had been talking about at dinner; that you just needed to let it happen organically.

“Oops,” I said, smiling. “Did I just say that?”

It was probably the alcohol in me, but I didn’t feel afraid of him not saying it back; I didn’t care, I loved him, and that was not contingent on whether or not he felt the same way back to me.

He was looking at me intently, a serious expression on his face. He didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. It probably seems like it’s way too soon or something, and now you think I’m this psycho crazy person who just falls in love with anyone. But...that’s not true at all. And you don’t have to feel this way back, it’s okay, I’m not saying it because I expect you to say it in return, I just really wanted to—”

“Allie, shhh,” he interrupted, putting his finger up to my lips. The tiniest of smiles was curving the corners of his mouth. “I actually don’t think it’s way too soon because just the other day I was thinking that I felt the same way about you, too. It’s not something I take lightly; I don’t just throw the word around. I want you to know that. But I love you, too. And I love this little striptease you just did for me.”

I gave him another kiss. “Well you know, there’s plenty more of those to follow.”

“After you sleep that hangover off,” he said with a wink.

On Sunday, as I was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a coffee, I saw Cole’s parents’ Range Rover parked in the driveway, and then they left, and not long after that, I saw Cole bring his bike out of the garage and ride off, looking entirely handsome and very in shape in that brightly-colored spandex riding outfit of his. I had planned to do some stuff around the house, but when Amy texted and asked if I wanted to go to the lake with her, I said sure.

She came over and picked me up, and we stopped at the market first and got some food and a bottle of lemonade to bring with us. As we were setting our stuff up on the beach, I could hear my phone going off, alerting me that I had another text. My mother had sent me several texts already that morning, and I just had a feeling that it was going to be her again. And sure enough, when I looked down at the screen, it was.

I’ll call you later, I messaged back, and then I turned my phone off and tossed it into my beach bag.

“Everything okay?” Amy asked. She was stretched out on her towel, but looking over at me, her sunglasses perched on top of her head.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I said. “Just my mother harassing me.”

Amy laughed. “My mother was harassing me last week; she wants me to do this CrossFit thing with her. She’s always getting onto some new fitness kick and wanting me to do it with her. What’s your mom harassing you about?”

“She wants me to come down to Boston with Cole and Declan. She’s like, really trying to get me to do it. She’s acting like it’s the only thing in the world she wants, and I’m ruining her life by denying her the experience.”

“Oooh, I would love to go down to the city,” Amy said. “I don’t go down there nearly enough. It’s kind of intimidating to me, actually. But it probably wouldn’t be that way if I went down there more often.”

“Boston is a huge clusterfuck,” I said. “So far as cities go, it’s fine, but I grew up there, and I’m not dying to return anytime soon.”

“Even if it’s just for a visit? When my mom starts pestering me about the workout stuff, I usually go to the gym with her a couple times, and then she’ll leave me alone for a while, until she gets on some other kick. It’s not that bad, though.”

“I don’t know...there’s other factors involved.”

“Like what? If I’m prying, you can just tell me so, but I’m kind of an expert when it comes to ways to get your mother to stop harassing you.”

“It’s not really my mom that I h

ave the problem with. We’re total opposites, but we have a decent relationship. It’s my stepfather that’s the problem.”

“Oh,” Amy said. “Stepfathers... I don’t have any experience with them.”

“Well, you’re lucky then. My stepfather tried to sexually assault me when I was a teenager,” I said. “Nothing ended up happening, but it’s basically ruined our relationship, which I think is kind of a given.”

“Have you talked to your mother about it?”

“I tried. And since nothing happened, and because it was so long ago now, she doesn’t believe me. I don’t know if she would have believed if me I told her right when it happened, either, but it makes things difficult. I just have no desire to be around him.”

“That’s understandable. You know, something sort of similar happened to me when I was a freshman in college,” Amy said. “I went to this party, and there was this guy there that I sort of knew from one of my classes. I had a little too much to drink—okay, I had way too much—and he kind of ended up taking advantage of me.”

“Oh, shit,” I said. “What an asshole. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I felt pretty messed up about it for a while. I even went to see the campus counselor and everything. For almost six months, actually, but it was helpful.”