Head Over Wheels (Steamy New Adult Romance) (4 page)

"Hey. Don't flinch. You'll be encountering this stuff soon."

"With luck." With moist pink lips, I shot him a duck face to lighten the mood.

Reaching across the table, he patted my hand. "You'll get in, Jewel. Just flash that smile of yours." He winked then laughed. "And that dumb looking face."

"Hey," I protested his crude remark, throwing a spoon at him, then got serious. "Score high, you mean."

"Yeah, babe. You've got to. Lots of competition out there."

I scrunched my mouth and sighed. "Ugh. Forensic Science tomorrow. With Professor Blooming Onion."

Pete burst out laughing. "Who?"

"Eidlehorn. I swear, that guy must search for the most offensive breakfast foods on the market. His breath is a knockout."

"So are you." Pete grinned. "I remember that dude. Listen, doll. I'm gonna hit the road." He went to the sink, washed and dried his cup and placed it on a shelf. "Let you get some rest. You look beat."

I met him at the doorway and ruffled his hair. "You too, big guy." I poked one of his pecs straining through my borrowed shirt. "Lavender is your color. Keep the shirt."

His dramatic posedown stressed the shoulders and back. He tugged at the sleeves. “Geeze. I’m about to burst through the seams. I don’t know how you manage to squeeze into this, Jewel.”

“Very funny.” I swatted him. “Unlike you, mine’s all up front.”

“Haven’t we all noticed.” He peered over my shoulder. "Hmm. Not to underestimate the backside."

"Sometimes I think you just like me for my body." I backed him into the living room.

"And all this time, I've felt the same about your intentions."

Laughing, he followed me to my room, waited until I crawled into bed, then tucked me under the covers. His lips were warm on my forehead. Plush and gentle. "Nite, sweetie." His breath was raspberry tea scented.

"You're so good to me, Petey." A sigh of contentment warmed my pillow. I curled up on my side. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

With a palm sinking into my mattress, he leaned in for a good night kiss. "You're the doll I always wanted. Someday I'll walk you down the aisle." His face took on the strangest look. "You're the only woman I've ever loved."

I knew Pete and his family weren't close, but until that moment, I never realized just how distant he and his mom were. What the hell was wrong with her? Pete was a sweetheart. To imagine him anything other than jovial made me sad. How could she not treasure him? I wanted to pull him down beside me, cuddle away every worry. But Nikos was the only man who had ever shared my bed.

"If I'm ever lying in some alley, I hope you're my first responder," whispering, I looked deep into his eyes. "I feel safe with you..."

"You really know how to get to a guy."

My lids began to flutter. "Night, Pete," I mumbled, as a peaceful wave of sleep engulfed me. "I had a great time tonight."

"Ditto. I'll lock the door on my way out." His voice moved to the other side of the room.

I
knew I made unjust withdrawals on college Joe's funds, but Saturday dawned into a stunning reminder of Nikos' condo on the scenic Hudson.

Lying in my bed, brisk air from my open windows washed my face, chilling my upper torso exposed by a sheet that half hung on the floor. Cha Ching! Instant replay. Nikos had draped the sides of his terrace with blankets for our weekend sunbathing. Wrapped in his terry bathrobe, I'd hunched over the railing, admiring sails and tugboats skim the river's lazy current.

The Hudson was the condo's backyard luxury I missed almost as much as I'd missed him. The Saturday sun had been hot as Nikos' hands when he pulled me down beside him. He lacked nothing in the romance department. Eventually rolling off his sturdy mattress,
another name for my body
, he brought a towel to his privates and padded into the kitchen to grab some drinks.

Cap lock: IMHO: What's said about the Greeks is true, at least in my experience. Not only are they fabulous lovers, they're generous, hospitable, naturally uninhibited ...

I lulled on the terrace, disconnected from the gentler chaos of weekend Manhattan, the classes I should have been studying for, the laundry I should have been doing. The buzz of a Cessna broke the silence and a sudden visualization of an upcoming Political Science quiz I absolutely had to outscore myself on.

I never figured planes flew that low. Not even small ones. Naked and innocent as a newborn in a woman's body, I retained my prone position, spread eagle on the terrace floor, catching as many rays as possible before heading home to hit the books.

The overhead roar faded. I heard it make another pass at what had to be treetop level. My eyelids shot up, along with my brows. I could literally read the call letters on the Skyhawk's belly. With a chuckle I rolled onto my stomach, hoping the single engine didn't crash before it had a chance to climb into a cloud.
Men ...

The
bum bum
beat, blasting from the living room, jarred me back to reality.

"Oh God, Em!" I wanted to scream, but she'd never notice above the racket.

Grumbling, yawning, I rolled out of bed, stuck my feet into fuzzy slippers and pulled the door open. When I entered the living room, what I found was no surprise: Emma bouncing around the floor as if made of rubber, working her butt off, or rather, on.

"Why are you exercising?" I stood in my sleep-ravaged
Hello Kitty's,
rubbing crud from my eyes as I watched her work everything she owned.

"Why not?" she panted.

"We're bike-a-thon-ing today. Have you forgotten the event that was your bright idea in the first place? Shit. The last thing I feel like doing today is sitting on that hard, skinny seat. Even with this padding." I twisted at the waist, smacking a curved palm against one of my basketball butt cheeks. "Do they make crotch guards?"

"I got you a gel seat." She let out a burst of air, followed by a moan.

"How about training wheels? I haven't been on a bike since I was a kid," I mumbled. Unlike Emma, an energetic morning person, I was often cranky. "I'm nervous. I think I'm gonna make an ass of myself."

The music stopped and Emma stood beside me in the tidy kitchen. "Don't worry. I'll catch you if you fall." She chuckled. "It's a perfect day for cycling. Is Pete coming?"

"Seriously? At this hour, he's probably sleeping off last night. And besides, he told me he's got wheels that don't need peddling." Thinking of him posing on his Harley, I smiled. He was such a teddy bear. Still, the bike made him look rough and tumble, which of course he could easily be with anyone who crossed him.

Emma poured two glasses of orange juice. When I went to the freezer to grab a box of microwave waffles, she slapped my hand. "I'll handle breakfast. You get dressed." Before leaving the room, I watched as she reached for a carton of eggs and a loaf of whole grain bread. "Make sure you're covered from head to toe." She giggled, her hips still swaying. "I don't want to be patching you up tonight, listening to you spout off profanity in Spanish."

I stood my ground, staring, but not really seeing Em.

"Will you get dressed so we're not late?" She cracked two eggs that sizzled the moment they hit the frying pan. "What time did you get in, anyway?"

"After midnight. Can't you tell by my tude?"

"You're always this way."

The toast popped as I retreated from the room, and Emma's stern gaze, but heard her call out, "How was the movie?"

"I don't know," my voice was muffled by my closet. "I was with Pete, remember?"

The aroma of breakfast lit a fire under me as I dressed."Who gives a shit about a few scrapes and bruises," I grumbled on my way from my bedroom. "So what if I look like an ass. It's for a good cause. Kids and illness should never be synonymous." The image of sick children made my heart sink. I thought of Poughkeepsie, my mom and dad and healthy siblings, especially my youngest sister who enjoyed rolling around the floor with her birthday terrier she'd named Poncho.

My cell chimed.

Pete: Hey Kit Kat  What's up?

Me: Hey  Mounting my bike

Pete: Sounds interesting  Shoot over a pic

Me: In this Martian helmet?  Fat chance

Pete: May stop by later  Gotta see this

Me: Rescue me  I'll dump the cycle and hop on the Harley

Pete: You'll be fine

Me: Right

Emma and I rode our bikes through city streets, bringing us uptown and into the park entrance, the starting point of the event. Emma was right. The day turned out to be perfect for outdoor activities. A cool breeze made the bright sun tolerable. And the humidity was low, thank goodness, because coated in sweaty spandex might prove as bad as holding a pee on a packed train car. That was how I normally traveled to the suburbs – the Hudson Line, minus the pee, of course. Who even needed an auto in the city? If things worked out today, I might even join the scores of NYC cyclist commuters.

In single file, other cyclists joined us, and we merged into a colorful procession. Riding turned out to be a simpler task than I'd thought it would be, still, my equilibrium was less than perfectly balanced. I enjoyed the glide of the spinning wheels, and guiding the bike around pot holes, but a half hour in, my calves and thighs began to feel the rhythmic pump of my peddling feet. That's when the trail finally smoothed, opening up into the picturesque park that resembled a blooming orchard on rolling fields. I rode beside Emma, who proved to be a pro at just about everything.

"Weee," I squealed, gaining the confidence to scoot in front of her. She laughed when my front wheel began to wobble as it sideswiped a rock in its path and I eased off the pedal to coast beside her.

"Careful, Jewel. And look out. Seems to be a traffic jam ahead. With so many bikes, concentration is essential. None of your classic clowning today." She twisted her head for an instant, shooting me a phony scowl.

Two mountain bikes rested against trees, as far off the trail as shrubbery permitted. Masses of others pedaled past them. Emma and I appeared to be the only rubberneckers, gawking out of general curiosity, then stalled by the striking bodies of the two hot cyclists with the best butts I'd ever seen. Or was it the padding? Either way, these guys were impossible to ignore.

Without the need for words, Emma and I were in tune. We rolled up on our bikes a safe distance behind theirs and hopped off, prepared to offer our help, should they need it.

"Holy shit." I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible while trying to fit my words between Emma's blue helmet and one of her ears. "It's him," I whispered. My sneakers sinking into spongy grass, I took a quick step back.

We whipped off our helmets simultaneously and set them on our bikes, ogling college Joe who lifted his buddy's rear wheel off the grass while the guy reattached the chain that hung loose at ground level.

"What did you say?" Emma whispered back.

My lips pressed to her ear. "College Joe. You know, the memory bank guy from Kelly's? Damn, I sent you his pic!"

"I'm not looking at his face." She grinned. "Are you gonna just stand there or do something already?"

"What would you like me to do?" I demanded. All I needed was for him to turn and see Em and me arguing. Why did things turn catastrophic whenever he was around? I looked toward heaven. "Grandma, is it you again?"

"What are you talking about?" Em cocked an ear.

"Nothing." My whisper came out harsh. "We can't just stand here, Em. Think of something, will you? Because I just spaced, and we look like two idiots posing here like this, mumbling to each other."

At that, we burst into stifled laughter, and things began to fall into place. We balanced our bikes against bordering trees, discreetly discussing exactly how to approach the opportunity.

"I can't believe this is happening." My heart bounced in my chest. "There's no way I'm gonna blow this chance.” I managed to slow the rapid beats, but my stomach fluttered. "I feel like I have to take a ..."

"Don't." Emma held a hand over her mouth. "The look on your face is killing me."

"Thanks, friend."

"Well, pull yourself together, girl. I've never seen you this way."

"That's because I've never
been
this way, wise-ass."

"Don't get flippant, biatch."

During our entire exchange we lurked behind them, arms folded over our chests, looking like petite imitations of Pete when he leaned casually on his Harley. Only I wasn't casual. I was practically frantic. "How can I pull this off?"

He'd appeared interested at Kelly's coffee house, where from across a crowded room, my confidence level had soared. But we were now in the wide open park. Nothing around us but cyclists, sprouting foliage, and clear blue skies. I took a quick survey of the surrounding area. No blonde bimbo.
Yes! Okay, Jewel. You've got one shot at this.

"First of all, stay cool." Emma looked comically bug-eyed.

"I'm trying." I grit my teeth. "Don't you know it's a scientific fact that people get angrier when you tell them to chill? So give me some good advice instead, before I explode."

Emma laughed at my exasperation. "Just do your thing, girl. I know you've got it in you."

"Do I shake my booty? This guy seems pretty intellectual ..."

"Hell, all guys like asses. Get going before it's too late." She gave me one of her lightweight shoves.

I jabbed her arm and lifted a brow, making a mental note: do not suck on the inside of your cheek, or worse, chew on either one of your lips. "Here goes. Wish me luck."

"Good luck already."

Taking a deep breath, faking cool and casual, I moseyed toward him. He must have sensed my approach, because he turned before I arrived at his side.

S
till holding the bike off the ground he did a double-take, then quickly recovered from his state of shock. My heart thumped a few times, and my swallow went so deep it almost reached my stomach, which threatened to growl. Concerned about another banana peel incident, I became overly aware of the terrain and kept checking my feet, but each time I surfaced, his eyes were aimed at me.

I saw his head hitch left, hook right, even swing around behind him. Then I was the target again. He had the m
ost talkative eyes I'd ever seen: come on, baby ― keep your distance ― move it, will you? ― hold it right there. Hell, his eyes wouldn't have let me take another direction if I'd wanted to.

His lips finally decided to spring into a grin. And there they wer
e, up close and unfathomable ... those elusive eyes, trained on me as though I were a late flight. My legs could have buckled, but I was too stubborn to let them. And I refused to send out any butterfly messages.

"
Hey there," he said. The voice. I finally heard the voice without the interference of chattering customers. And just as I'd imagined: indulgent, saturating, a perfect match for the guy who'd left me speechless in Kelly's a few days earlier. But today I was determined to chew his ear off. Well ... at least be able to respond to him.

"Hey. Need help?" As if ... Like he'd really need
my
help.

"Sure. Whatcha got in mind?" The way his biceps tightened, bulging through his shirt when his arms strained, was mind-blowing. And just looking
was
blowing my mind. Dear Lord, I'll be good for the rest of my life. Help, please ...

"Mocha latte, right?" One side of his grin grew more than the other, then he moved his attention from me to his friend who was wrapping the chain around the crank.
"Let me know when you're ready. Need it higher?"

"Nah. It'll only take a minute," the friend replied, shooting a glance at me.

As if inspecting, I moved closer to the disabled bike, and Joe's side. "Broken chain, huh?" So dumb. It's obvious, you nitwit.

"Didn't snap." He faced me again, this time his eyes slipping from my smile to the skin-tight spandex I wore. "Just loosened up a bit."

I sensed his approval, but there was so much more going on behind his stare. I brushed my fingers through my helmet-headed hair attempting to fluff it into some sort of feminine aura. God, could this get any worse? "Oh. That's good. Can you fix it?" If not, my ride's just around the corner ... Ha.