I sat on the bike. “Hop on behind me.”
She did as I said.
“Wrap your arms around my waist.”
I stilled for a moment at the feel of them wrapped around me tightly. “See what you’re doing now? Just keep doing it. Hold onto me as tightly you can.”
“Okay.”
I looked behind her. “Now this is very important. When I turn a corner, just relax your body. Don’t lean against the turn. That’s going to be your impulse, but don’t do it. Alright?”
“Alright.”
“The other thing is, it’s going to be hard for us to hear each other unless we really yell. So, if you don’t want to scream and for any reason, you need me to stop, just tap me on the shoulder. But that’s the only time you’re allowed to let go.”
My rules regarding holding on for dear life were a bit of an exaggeration. But I was going to milk the experience of being close to her for all it was worth.
“Let’s get going. Ready?”
She shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I cranked the engine, and we took off down some side roads before entering the highway. Aubrey never did let go. Not once. I never imagined how good it would feel to have someone behind me. Well, I suppose it was because it was her behind me. I’d forgotten how much I missed riding too, that feeling of shifting through the gears, the wind hitting my face and the sensory overload. It was the next best thing to sex—a feeling of absolute power. Having to focus intently on the road and everything around me brought about a strange sense of calm.
As much fun as it was, I was all too aware of how careful I needed to be with Aubrey’s life in my hands. Being on a bike makes you overly conscious of your own mortality, particularly when you’re on the freeway. Our route alternated between the highway and open country roads that were surrounded by mountains. Even though the scenery was breathtaking, I missed her beautiful face. I couldn’t wait to see her all wind-burned with her hair messed up.
One of the most fun parts of the ride for me was trying to communicate with Aubrey. She couldn’t really hear what I was saying. So, I’d shout things for the fuck of it that I wished I could say to her.
We were riding along, almost at our destination when I shouted, “I can’t wait till you sit on my face.”
“What’s that?”
“I said, I can’t wait to show you this place.”
Another time it was, “I think we should get married for real.”
“What?”
“Whatever happened to Captain and Tennille?”
When we arrived in Julian, Aubrey looked exactly as I expected she would. Her face was red from the wind, her hair wild. It took everything in me not to smash my lips into hers.
Shaking out her hair, she asked, “What are we doing first?”
I was so fixated on her, the question hadn’t immediately registered. “Huh?”
She repeated, “Where are we going?”
“I heard this place is known for their apple pie. Why don’t we go find some?”
Aubrey chuckled. “We travelled nearly two hours by motorcycle for apple pie?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“Only you would do that. That’s one of the things I like most about you. Everything can somehow seem like an adventure. Even just getting apple pie.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It is.” She flashed the sweetest smile. “And I would love nothing more than to have apple pie with you.”
Something had definitely softened her. Maybe it was the ride. That whole experience is very intimate, especially for the passenger, given that you’re putting your life in someone else’s hands. I guess I impressed her.
Score one, Bateman.
Dick…Zero.
We walked to the Julian Café where they boasted the best apple pie in the entire town. The two of us sat in a cozy corner table up against a brick wall. They served us generous slices of warm apples baked with cinnamon into a buttery crust with dollops of vanilla ice cream on top. They weren’t kidding; it was the best I’d ever tasted. At least this day would include something orgasmic.
Our conversation started out easy enough. We talked more about the shelter, her plans to convert her guest bedroom into an office, a new type of yoga she was trying. I hoped to God I’d get to reap the benefits of that someday. I told her about my brief visit back to Hermosa Beach and my plans to put a small shed on her property to store my garden equipment. Then, I sort of went and ruined the mood.
“So, where does Dick…uh…Richard think you are today?”
She did as I said.
“Wrap your arms around my waist.”
I stilled for a moment at the feel of them wrapped around me tightly. “See what you’re doing now? Just keep doing it. Hold onto me as tightly you can.”
“Okay.”
I looked behind her. “Now this is very important. When I turn a corner, just relax your body. Don’t lean against the turn. That’s going to be your impulse, but don’t do it. Alright?”
“Alright.”
“The other thing is, it’s going to be hard for us to hear each other unless we really yell. So, if you don’t want to scream and for any reason, you need me to stop, just tap me on the shoulder. But that’s the only time you’re allowed to let go.”
My rules regarding holding on for dear life were a bit of an exaggeration. But I was going to milk the experience of being close to her for all it was worth.
“Let’s get going. Ready?”
She shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I cranked the engine, and we took off down some side roads before entering the highway. Aubrey never did let go. Not once. I never imagined how good it would feel to have someone behind me. Well, I suppose it was because it was her behind me. I’d forgotten how much I missed riding too, that feeling of shifting through the gears, the wind hitting my face and the sensory overload. It was the next best thing to sex—a feeling of absolute power. Having to focus intently on the road and everything around me brought about a strange sense of calm.
As much fun as it was, I was all too aware of how careful I needed to be with Aubrey’s life in my hands. Being on a bike makes you overly conscious of your own mortality, particularly when you’re on the freeway. Our route alternated between the highway and open country roads that were surrounded by mountains. Even though the scenery was breathtaking, I missed her beautiful face. I couldn’t wait to see her all wind-burned with her hair messed up.
One of the most fun parts of the ride for me was trying to communicate with Aubrey. She couldn’t really hear what I was saying. So, I’d shout things for the fuck of it that I wished I could say to her.
We were riding along, almost at our destination when I shouted, “I can’t wait till you sit on my face.”
“What’s that?”
“I said, I can’t wait to show you this place.”
Another time it was, “I think we should get married for real.”
“What?”
“Whatever happened to Captain and Tennille?”
When we arrived in Julian, Aubrey looked exactly as I expected she would. Her face was red from the wind, her hair wild. It took everything in me not to smash my lips into hers.
Shaking out her hair, she asked, “What are we doing first?”
I was so fixated on her, the question hadn’t immediately registered. “Huh?”
She repeated, “Where are we going?”
“I heard this place is known for their apple pie. Why don’t we go find some?”
Aubrey chuckled. “We travelled nearly two hours by motorcycle for apple pie?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“Only you would do that. That’s one of the things I like most about you. Everything can somehow seem like an adventure. Even just getting apple pie.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It is.” She flashed the sweetest smile. “And I would love nothing more than to have apple pie with you.”
Something had definitely softened her. Maybe it was the ride. That whole experience is very intimate, especially for the passenger, given that you’re putting your life in someone else’s hands. I guess I impressed her.
Score one, Bateman.
Dick…Zero.
We walked to the Julian Café where they boasted the best apple pie in the entire town. The two of us sat in a cozy corner table up against a brick wall. They served us generous slices of warm apples baked with cinnamon into a buttery crust with dollops of vanilla ice cream on top. They weren’t kidding; it was the best I’d ever tasted. At least this day would include something orgasmic.
Our conversation started out easy enough. We talked more about the shelter, her plans to convert her guest bedroom into an office, a new type of yoga she was trying. I hoped to God I’d get to reap the benefits of that someday. I told her about my brief visit back to Hermosa Beach and my plans to put a small shed on her property to store my garden equipment. Then, I sort of went and ruined the mood.
“So, where does Dick…uh…Richard think you are today?”
