Page 68 of Thick

I was pleased to admit that I was wrong.

With the ocean filling the horizon on my right, we continued to travel down the oceanfront road at a leisurely speed.

The ride was much more comfortable than I expected it would be. Leaning against the backrest removed what little fear I had of falling off, and Tate’s riding skills provided comfort that I wasn’t placing myself unnecessarily in harm’s way.

I thought I’d spent months getting to know Tate. In reality, I had two days experience in discovering who he truly was. So far, I liked what I had found.

He may have been a member of an outlaw biker gang, but that wasn’t who he was. He was kind, considerate, polite, and he saw me as being what I’d always felt I was – despite what everyone else thought – a woman who was just as beautiful on the outside as she was on the inside.

We turned left, following the road to the east. With the sun in our faces, we rode to the traffic light and came to a stop.

“You alright?” he asked over his shoulder.

“I’m great.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“I think I’m in shock.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to ride on one of these things. It’s better than I imagined.”

“It’s rare to take a ride and not smile at some point. Two-wheeled therapy. It’s my way of clearing my mind.”

The light switched to green.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He released the clutch and accelerated up the block. I gazed along the streets as we rode past, seeing much more than I would have if I was driving. I now knew how the gulls on the beach could see a piece of bread from a hundred yards away.

Their view was unobstructed.

I moved my head to the side, away from the protection he provided. As the wind whipped my hair into a tangled mess, I closed my eyes and imagined I was flying. My life had quickly gone from reading about women who had been swept away from their ho-hum existence to truly being swept away from my ho-hum existence.

My life wasn’t meaningless, nor was it overly boring. One thing, however, that I’d learned to live without was the presence of a male counterpart. Having Tate show genuine interest in me beyond the confines of the prison provided a boost to my ego.

I’d always been a confident woman. Even as a child, I never lacked self-esteem. When the children in school teased me and called me names, I still managed to hold my head high, knowing I was a much better person than they were.

Despite my belief that I was a beautiful woman, having someone confirm it was the ultimate reward. Especially when they were as handsome and talented as TD Reynolds.

We slowed our speed, turned right, and then right again. As he turned into a coffee shop’s parking lot, I tried to accept that at least for the time being, that the ride was over.

He came to a stop, and then lowered the kickstand. “What do you think?”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I like riding more than I like driving my car.”

He pulled off his helmet. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah. This is awesome.”

I pulled off my helmet. After seeing him hang his on the handlebars by the chin strap, I assumed I should do the same thing. I didn’t want him to perceive me as being unaware of standard biker protocol, even though I was.

My knowledge was limited to a handful of Sons of Anarchy episodes I’d binged on in preparation of our ride, and the books that I’d read.

I carefully hung my helmet on the right side of the handlebars and climbed off.