Blue Colla Make Ya Holla (17 page)

“I have something for you,” he whispers, reaching into his pocket. When he withdraws something small, I notice his fingers are shaking slightly as he holds it.

“A present?” I ask, wondering what could be making him so nervous his hands would tremble.

He nods and turns towards me on the park bench. We used to play in this park when we were little, and now we meet here at night to kiss.

“Yeah…I made it for you.”

He opens his hand, and there in his palm is a ring made of metal and glass. Twist loves to make things out of metal, and he is incredibly talented, but I have never seen him make jewelry before.

I gasp and look up to meet his eyes. “For me? You made this?”

His smile reaches his mischievous dark eyes. “Of course for you, silly.” He grabs my hand and slowly slides it on my ring finger. It fits perfectly. My shaking hand matches his now.

“Twist…I love it.” I throw my arms around him and hug him tight, my heart swelling with love for this boy.

He pulls away slightly and softly kisses my lips. “I wanted you to have something from me, as a promise.”

“A promise of what?” I breathe, kissing his cheek as his warm hands slide up the back of my T-shirt.

“That I’m going to love you and take care of you for-fucking-ever.”

I don’t know about that promise from him anymore, but I still feel exactly the same as I did that day. No one has ever made me feel as magical as he did. None of the men I have dated since could compare to the eighteen-year-old boy who stole my heart. Maybe it’s because we had no closure, and I’m stuck back in time as a fifteen-year-old girl with her first love, or maybe we just never truly get over our very first relationship. Perhaps the first person to capture our heart always holds onto a piece of it and haunts us forever, never letting us forget them. Maybe that’s the right of our first love.

I wonder if Twist still thinks about me and if there is any part of his heart I still hold or if it shriveled away and died long ago. He probably doesn’t even remember who I am anymore and is fat, bald, and married with three kids by now.

Marlie

‡

I
never want to
move again. Even with my few belongings, packing and driving a truck halfway across the country while towing a car is a huge pain in the ass. The rental truck was dirty and smelly and bounced so much I thought my ovaries were going to fall out on the interstate. I counted ten dead deer on the side of the road, two dead raccoons, three garbage bags that looked suspiciously like they could be holding body parts, and a hot shirtless hitchhiker. I debated picking him up, but seriously, who picks up hitchhikers anymore? I’m not fixing to get murdered, no matter how hot the dude might be. I’ll stay single and alive, thank you very much.

The apartment Mom found me is adorable. It’s a two bedroom studio over a rich woman’s three-car garage. It has a private entrance and a small fenced-in yard area, which is great in case I get a dog. And the kicker? The woman travels constantly, and if I take care of her birds, cat, and simple housekeeping, the rent and utilities are free. I cannot believe the luck of this score. My life is really starting to look up, and I am getting out of the rut I was in. It’s been a long time coming, and I am excited to finally have things to look forward to in my life rather than an endless pit of boredom and loneliness.

*

After a whirlwind
two months of getting the shelter started with a grand opening, taking in our first animals, and getting settled in my new place, I finally start to relax a little. One morning, as I’m sitting on my little balcony sipping coffee, my mind wanders back to my motorcycle. The weather is beautiful, with a warm breeze, and the mountain roads would be so nice to ride on right now. I haven’t ridden in about five years, but I miss it after having to sell my last bike to pay off some bills.

I get on my laptop and do a search for local bike shops that do modifications and air brushing. There are two. TWO. One being the shop that Twist’s father owns.
Oh hell no
. I call the other one and explain what I need, but the guy barely speaks English, and I am pretty sure he said he was busy for the next three months. Or maybe he asked me to marry him. I’m not really sure.
Shit.

Tapping my finger on the table, I debate my options. Waiting three months doesn’t sound like fun. If I have to go to Mr. Jacob’s shop, it might not be all that bad. Last time I saw him we were still on good terms; he didn’t blame me for my father’s assholery. The chances of Twist actually being there are slim to none, since I’m pretty sure as soon as he got out of prison he high-tailed out of this town as fast as he could. I decide the best thing to do, given our past history, is for me to drive over there and talk to Mr. Jacobs in person about what I need.

I’m a little nervous as I drive to the bike shop, but I refuse to let myself turn around and go back home. I can’t start my new life here hiding from people. I’m surprised when I pull up in front of the shop to see it’s changed quite a bit by expanding to the building next to it, and has a new logo and signage. It looks like the past ten years have been good to them, and I’m sad I wasn’t around to see it happen.

I give myself a quick mental pep talk and go inside, where I’m met at the front counter by a pretty, young blonde girl.

She looks up from her cell phone and gives me a bored look. “Can I help you?” she asks.

“Hi…is Mr. Jacobs here?”

“Which one?” She puts her cell phone down and makes a face at me like I am super annoying.

Which one?
Shit.
That means there’s more than one.
Which could mean Mr. Jacobs and Riley. Or Mr. Jacobs and Twist. Or Mr. Jacobs, Riley, and Twist. Or Riley and Twist!

“Uh, Senior?” I reply.

“He’s not here today; he only comes in a few times a month now. What do you need?”

I clear my throat. “My bike needs some work.”

“Lucky you. That’s what we do here,” she says sarcastically then proceeds to literally scream through the doorway behind her into the mechanics’ shop area. “Riley!”

My stomach jumps. I’m not ready to see Riley. But I don’t have time to run, because he’s already coming through the doorway. Riley is two years older than Twist, and the brothers always looked very much alike. And holy shit, if Twist still looks like Riley, all my daydreams of Twist being fat and bald just went up in flames. Standing before me is a brick wall of hotness, all muscle, tattoos, and grease. He’s wiping his hands on a rag as he looks from me to the girl.

“What’s up?” he asks. The girl gestures at me. “I’m not sure what she wants. Not sure she knows either.”

I turn to her, tired of her attitude. “Excuse me, I know exactly what I want. I have a 2006 custom sportster. I need the suspension lowered and custom artwork airbrushed on the tank and fenders. I also need some new mid controls and leather saddle bags, possibly more, but I’d rather the mechanic tell me what else that may be.”

“Ho-lee shit,” Riley says, eyeing me. “Is that you? Little fucking Marlie?”

I blush under his intense stare and nod. “Yes, it’s me.”

He looks me up and down and shakes his head, whistling. “Wow. The naughty little girl next door grew into a hot chick. I always wondered what happened to you.”

“You’re looking pretty good yourself. You haven’t changed much.”

“You two know each other?” The girl at the counter asks, turning to Riley. “Is this one of your many exes, Rye?”

He throws the rag at her. “Actually no, she’s one of Twist’s. She grew up next door to us.”

“How nice,” she says with sarcasm, picking up her cell phone again.

“So you got a bike?” he asks in disbelief.

I nod with a little bit of a defensive tilt. “Yeah, I’ve been riding for a few years. I picked this bike up a little while ago but didn’t have a chance to have the work done yet. The suspension is too high for me. I just moved here about two months ago, and now that I’m settled, I’d like to be able to ride it before the season is over.”

“You’re back here permanently?” He leans against the doorframe and crosses his big muscled arms.

“Yes. I’m running the new pet shelter, Perfect Paws, over on Elm Street.”

Riley raises his eyebrows with what might be a sign of being impressed, but it’s hard to tell with him. “Does Twist know?”

My eyes dart from him to the girl, who is still making a bitchy face at me. “No. I haven’t talked to him since I left years ago.”

Riley turns his attention to the girl. “Go get me a soda, Lisa.” She rolls her eyes at him but leaves the front area we’re standing in, disappearing into the shop.

“We’ll do the work for you. Do you need me to come pick it up with the flatbed?”

“Yes, I have no way to get it here. It’s not safe for me to ride because I can’t touch the ground without leaning the bike way over, and I don’t know anyone who could ride it here for me.”

He pushes a pen and a work order sheet across the counter to me. “Write your address and phone number on here, and I’ll swing by tomorrow to pick it up.”

He watches me as I write down my info. “Once I get it, I’ll work up a quote for you and give you a buzz.”

“Thanks, that would be great.”

“I have a condition.”

My heartbeat quickens. Riley has always scared me with his cold eyes and domineering, deep voice; that hasn’t changed since I was a little girl. In fact, he’s a little bit scarier now.

I adjust my bag on my shoulder. “What’s that?”

“You need to tell Twist you’re here. He’ll be doing some of the work on your bike—he’s our airbrusher.”

“What? He’s here?” I ask, shocked. I honestly never thought in a million years that he would stay in this town and work with his father.

Riley rubs his face with his hand and glances to the doorway to the shop. “Yeah. He’s here. We’re all partners now. I know this is none of my fucking business, but I’m making it my business. You need to go back there and say hello and let him know you’re back in town. I don’t want my brother running into you in town someplace getting blindsided, and I’m not going to tell him you’re here. You owe it to him to do it yourself.”

I chew my lip, knowing he is right. I just was not ready for this today. Or maybe any day, to be honest.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I nod. “Okay, Riley. You’re right. He does deserve that.”

“Glad you agree, Marlie. Head out back and take a right, he’s back there in the corner at his workstation.”

As a kid, I spent a lot of time in this shop, and much of it looks the same now. My heart is pounding hard and my palms are sweaty as I cross the floor, my heels making way too much noise. I can see him, sitting on the floor working on a bike, his back to me. When I stop next to him, he slowly looks up at me, and I see how his eyes take in my curves. I feel an ache deep between my thighs that I haven’t felt in years.

Butterflies soar and flutter in my stomach. I gulp and take in the sight of the man who had been my best childhood friend. Ten years has changed him a lot. The once adorable boy with the crooked grin, messy hair, and sparkling eyes has turned into a man with chiseled muscles adorned with tattoos, dark sensual eyes, and a sexy heart-stopping smirk.

Twist. My first friend. My first love. My first heartache.

Marlie

‡