Beats of Life (Perception Book 5) (16 page)

Kylie

The warm wind whipping past my face helps to dry the tears streaming down my cheeks as Slater weaves in and out of traffic. So many memories filtered through my brain the instant I hopped onto the back of his bike. It is like the last two years had never happened and my busting at the seams happiness can only escape through my eyes. I loosen my hold around his waist and quickly wipe away the remaining tears the wind had missed before reattaching my grip. Slater’s right hand moves off the handlebars and he gives my tear soaked hand a gentle squeeze. I lift my head off his back to seek his gaze in his bike’s mirror. Like he can read my thoughts, he adjusts the mirror so we can see each other. When he notices my tears, his eyebrows pull together tight and his speed slows down. His head darts side to side like he is trying to find somewhere to pull over. I offer him a large smile, trying to convey to him that my tears are happy tears. I squeeze his hips with my thighs before tightening my grip around his waist. I try to mould my body as close to his as possible. He smiles a huge cheeky grin, before his bike lunges forward so fast I can no longer hold in my excited screams.

The instant we hit the entrance of the Golden Gate Bridge, I raise both of my hands into the air and release the loudest squeal I’ve ever screamed in my life. Number ninety-six is officially being crossed off my list. But even more exciting than that is the fact that I am going to be able to cross it off with my trusty old red pencil. Once we reach the end of the bridge, Slater does an illegal U-turn and goes over the bridge again, his large smile reflecting back in his bike’s mirror. As we get towards the end for the second time he loudly yells “Again?”. I quickly nod my head and squeal with excitement when we cross the bridge for a third time. This time when we reach the end, he weaves his bike through the small roads of Sausalito before pulling into a deserted café on the water’s edge. The lights from San Francisco reflect off the bay’s waters and it is one of the most spectacular sights I have ever seen in my life.

“I hope you still have your red pencil?” Slater questions, assisting me off the back of his bike. I eagerly nod my head, triggering him to smile brightly. The San Francisco skyline is now the second most speculator sight I have ever seen.

He clasps my hand within his and walks us towards the closed café. I could imagine how beautiful the view of the bay would be during the day, considering the outside deck of the café sits right against the edge of the water. My eyes dart nervously around the area when Slater opens the door and walks inside.

“We can’t go inside, it’s closed,” I advise, my finger pointing to the closed sign that is swinging in the door he just opened.

He raises his index finger to his lips and silently mouths for me to be quiet as he walks into the empty café. My heart rate increases and my grip on his hand tightens when he walks us further into the pitch black café.

“Oh fuck,” he yells loudly when he crashes into a table. I try my hardest to hold in my giggles, but when he turns around and runs straight into another table, I can no longer hold in my laughter. My loud chuckles soon die down when a light in the stairwell gets turned on and someone yells “Who’s there.” Because a light has been turned on, I can see half of Slater’s face. His eyes are opened wide in shock and his face appears rattled.

“Run,” he informs panicked.

I quickly spin on my heels and bolt out of the door we only just entered, my legs moving surprisingly fast considering I am wearing a tight mini dress. My heart is wildly beating that it is nearly leaping out of my chest. My panic surges when I realize that Slater isn’t following behind me. I run to his bike and pull his baseball bat out of the saddlebag. The instant I raise his bat above my head in preparation to attack, Slater’s deep chuckle comes rumbling out of the café. When I spot him leaning against the doorframe with a huge shit eating grin, I throw the bat angrily on the ground and lift my arms above my head to take in several large deep breaths. Even after several deep breaths, my heart is still racing out of control. He strolls over towards me and picks the bat up from the ground, his smile beaming out of him.

“I’m glad to see you were coming back to save me,” he says chuckling. I punch him in the arm, causing him to laugh even louder. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and walks me back towards the café, where there is a middle aged lady standing in the doorframe with a large smile on her face.

“You gave the poor girl a heart attack,” she says, her head shaking slightly.

“Kylie, I would like you to meet a very dear friend of mine,” Slater says when we stand in front of the pretty, grey haired, blue eyed lady.

“Maggie, this is Kylie. Kylie this is Maggie, the official mother hen of the band,” he introduces.

“Hi,” I greet breathlessly, accepting the handshake Maggie is offering.

Maggie greets me back before ushering us into the café. When she turns on the lights, my eyes roam over the space. The café is a pretty standard looking café except for one wall near the front counter that has several small photos proudly on display. The photos show all the band members of ‘Rise Up’ at various stages of their career. The very first photo looks like it was taken quite a few years ago. Slater’s dreads are only around two inches long, his arms are wrapped around Marcus and Noah and he is smiling brightly at the camera. Nick is standing to the side of them, looking awkwardly out of place. As I follow the timeline of photos, Nick’s inclusion in the band becomes more apparent. The very last photo is on a much larger stage than the first. A smile forms onto my face when I notice Slater has his arm wrapped around Nick’s shoulders. I had thought I had misunderstood Slater’s dislike of Nick the weekend we stayed at the cabin. But from looking at the photos, I’m fairly certain Slater was not a fan of Nick’s a few years ago. I’m glad they have managed to work out whatever issues where between them.

“The first photo was taken the very first night they played at Mavericks and the last one was the first time they performed at the Staples Centre in Los Angeles,” Maggie informs. “I would love to take a photo of them at every arena they perform at, but they travel to far and wide for me to keep up with them now,” she continues, her eyes glistening as she looks proudly at the photos.

“I offered for you to travel with us,” Slater says, pulling down some chairs that are sitting on top of a table, gesturing for us to sit down. “But for some reason, this was more appealing to you,” he continues, his hand gesturing to the café.

Maggie smiles brightly as she moves towards a kitchen at the back of the café. When I sit down, Slater drags my chair over closer to his. The sound of the wooden chair scrapping along the polished floor screeches around the room. I lean in and place a quick kiss on his delicious lips just as Maggie walks back into the room with three bottles of beer. Her step slightly falters when she notices our kiss. She stands frozen halfway out of the kitchen, her confused eyes darting between us. When Slater casually drapes his arm across my shoulders, a small smile forms on her face before she commences walking again.

“You got your heart back,” she whispers softly to Slater. She was so quiet I could barely hear her. He accepts the beer she is offering him, lightly nodding his head.

For the next hour, we sit around the table talking. My heart melted when Maggie told me the boys from the band had brought her the café as retirement gift. She said she was reluctant in accepting it, but the boys soon made it apparent that they were not going to take no for an answer. She explained that Lola, Emily’s sister, had asked her about a large old poster of the San Francisco skyline she had hanging in her office at Mavericks one afternoon. Her dream had always been to open a B&B in Sausalito. But after encountering a few bumps in the road, her dreams never had a chance to be fulfilled and before she knew it, thirty years had flown by. The instant Lola told Jacob about Maggie’s dream, Jacob shared the news with Noah. Once Noah told the rest of the band members, they all chipped in to purchase the café for Maggie.

“There are four small cabins attached to the back of the café and Maggie has plans to extend the floor space in here to add another three rooms,” Slater informs, the pride in his voice easily heard.

“I tried to convince her to travel with us, you know, to ensure the beers where the coldest they could be, but for some reason the idea of the café sounded more appealing to her,” Slater continues, chuckling loudly when Maggie throws a red dish cloth at him.

We continued talking until the wee hours of the morning. Maggie filled me in on everything that I had missed the past two years. I was surprised when she told me about Noah’s accident. By looking at him, you wouldn’t know that he had been so badly injured. She shared photos of Emily and Noah’s wedding she had clipped from some magazines and a few private ones she had taken herself, and gushed like a proud grandmother when she showed me photos of Maddie and Jasper as newborn babies.

By the time Slater and I are heading back to his bike, the sun is beginning to rise. He places my helmet on my head and assists me onto the back of his bike. I wave goodbye to Maggie, before wrapping my hands tightly around his waist and leaning my cheek against his back. His heart is thumping so hard it is easily audible over the rumbling of his bike. Even though it is summer, a heavy layer of fog covers the bay, giving it an eerie aspect. Due to the early morning hour, we manage to miss the paparazzi that were at the carpark when we exited last night. 

Slater kicks his leg over his bike and helps me off, before gently removing the helmet from my head. My eyes leisurely run over his gorgeous face as he places my helmet back into his saddlebag. I couldn’t believe it when he first pulled my helmet out of his saddlebag. I tried to brush it away quickly, but I’m fairly certain he saw the tear that fell from my eye when I noticed it. I have never stopped loving him and considering that he still carries my helmet with him shows he still cares for me too. So that is why I have decided I need to tell him why I left. He deserves to know that it wasn’t anything he did that made me leave. I need to make sure he fully understands that. It’s time for me to be honest. Then hopefully he can forgive me and we can move forward from it.

He clasps his hand around mine and attempts to walk towards the elevators. I plant my feet firmly on the ground, halting his hasty retreat.

“Can we talk?” I request quietly. His eyes slowly lift to face mine, his face marred with worry. He nods his head softly and leans against his bike, pulling me in close to his side. I lean my head against his chest and take in a large inhale of his manly scent.

“What did you want to talk about?” he questions quietly, his concern easily heard in his voice.

I turn to face him, leaning my body against his, looking directly into his eyes. “I want to tell you what happened,” I whisper softly. A small gathering of tears rapidly forms in my eyes.

“I want to tell you why I left,” I continue. His body stiffens and his grip around my waist tightens, his nervous eyes flick between mine.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, it was because--” I attempt to say, before I feel the warmth of his lips against mine.

I try to pull away, but his lips are too skilful. Even though my brain is telling me to pull away, my heart encourages me to return his kiss. By the time he pulls away from our embrace, my brain is mush and I no longer have the ability to form words. He smiles, loving the effect he has on my body.

“Don’t….you….ummm,” I mumble, causing him to smile even larger. Even though my brain knows what it is trying to say, my mouth won’t cooperate. I slap him playfully on his chest, shaking my head lightly.

“Don’t you want to know?” I question, once I have regained the ability to talk. His eyes dart between mine before he softly shakes his head, triggering my eyebrows to pull together tightly. I hadn’t expected him to say no.

“Why?” I question. My eyes stare at his t-shirt covered chest, my confusion is marked all over my face, suddenly panicked that maybe he doesn’t want me anymore.

He places his hand under my chin and gently lifts my head. “It’s in the past, can’t we just leave it there?” he questions, his voice sounding throaty.

My eyes stare into his that are showing how vulnerable he is feeling. Slater appears to have a tough and hard exterior, but if you look close enough, you soon realize he wears his heart on his sleeve and it is one gigantically massive heart. That heart was one of the reasons I left him.

“But I need you to promise me something Kylie,” he requests firmly. I instantly nod my head. I would promise him anything if it means I get to have him in my life again.