Arianna's Awakening (Arianna Rose Part 1 & The Awakening Part 2) (10 page)

“What?  No mechanic?  You lied to me?”

“Well, no, not exactly.  I’m the mechanic actually.  I’m going to fix your bike.”

Arianna closed her eyes and exhaled.

“I’ll take you to and from school until it’s finished and I’ll only charge you for parts.  Come on, you have to admit that’s a sweet deal.”

Arianna thought it would have been a great deal, if he were a mechanic. 

“You seriously are a mechanic?”

“I’ve been fixing cars and motorcycles my whole life. Trust me.  You’re better off with me than some dude at a garage.”

She cringed.  She didn’t have much of a choice.  Her funds were limited, and if she were to take it to a repair shop, they’d double the cost of the parts and add labor charges to her bill.  She simply couldn’t afford such an expense.  “All right, but what’s the catch?”

“The catch?  There’s no catch.”

“So you want nothing from me, nothing at all.  Just money for parts?”

“Well, that and,” he said and his voice trailed off.

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “That and what?” she asked suspiciously and hoped he did not have some depraved list to rattle off.

“It’d be nice to have some company while I worked,” he said and tried to sound offhand.  She breathed a sigh of relief as he continued, “You could come here some days after school and hang out with me.”

“I could do that I guess,” she said.

“And I promise you won’t see what you saw today again.”

She didn’t think he’d mention his mother again.  His comment refreshed her memory of her earlier experience.  It had not left her, but she had been distracted by his conversation.  The sensation she’d felt had placed her in his past, it had been as if she were visiting his life in clips through his eyes, feeling what he’d felt at that time.  Her insides shook at the recollection.

“Are you okay, Arianna?  You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I’m fine,” she answered absently and looked at the ground.  She looked up and saw his concerned expression.  “Seriously, don’t worry about me.  You’ve been through a lot of shit, still going through it.  The last thing you need to be doing is worrying about me.”

“Thanks,” he said and started walking toward his pickup truck.  He opened the back of it and ran to the garage.  When he returned, he dragged a wide, wooden plank.  He rested the plank against the back of the truck and made a makeshift ramp.  Then he climbed into the back of the truck, lifted the bike so that it stood on its wheels and walked it down the ramp.

“Luke, that doesn’t look safe,” she protested.

“I’ve done this before.  Don’t worry!” he called, but her breath still caught in her chest when he reached the midpoint of the ramp and it bent impossibly without breaking.  She held her breath until he’d reached the ground below.

“See!  I’m fine!” he said proudly.  He smiled and she was happy to see that some of its sincerity had returned.  He pushed the bike to the door of the decrepit garage.  “Here, hold this,” he told her and gestured for her to balance the bike.  While she did, he lifted garage door.  Beyond it was innumerable tools lined along the walls, all neatly arranged in size order.  Two chests with several drawers had been placed against the far wall which she assumed held more tools.  The garage had been more neatly organized than his house; that was for sure.  It was clearly the area he presided over, the area he took pride in.  He withdrew the kickstand
of the bike and placed it near the center of the space then set about collecting tools from the chests.  She watched how confidently he moved, how purposefully. 

“I’m gonna get a look at her and see what the real damage is here.  Do you want anything to drink, a soda or something?”

“I am a little thirsty,” she said and regretted sending him back into the house.  “But it’s no big deal.”

“I have soda in the fridge over there,” he pointed to a miniature refrigerator tucked in a corner.  “It’s not like I have to go back inside or anything,” he said more quietly.

“Then yes, I’d love a soda.”

“Okay.  Can you grab me one
, too?”

“Hey!  What happened to the wooing?” she asked with mock irritation.

“You mean you’re not fully wooed?” he said and matched her tone.  “Shit, you’re quite the princess aren’t you?”  He sighed exaggeratedly then walked to the refrigerator.  “Fine.  A soda for the lady.”

“Whoa, whoa, who said I was a lady?” she said and winked mischievously.

“Are you
flirting
with me?” he said with inflated inquisitiveness.

“I do believe I am,” she replied and batted her eyelashes for affect.

She heard herself giggle and silently chastised herself for being so girlie and silly.  But she felt happy, inexplicably happy, despite being in a garage that resided beside a house with the drugged out mother of a boy she liked.  And there was the matter of what had brought her to the garage in the first place: crashing her bike.  She allowed her gaze to drop and concentrated on a stray thread that stuck out of one of her boots.  Luke crossed the garage and delivered her drink to her. 

“Here you go.  It’s not diet or anything.  I hope that’s okay,” he said and handed her a red can.  She looked up at him and reached out her hand to take the can.  When she did, his hand grazed hers.  It was not an unpleasant feeling and sent a small shiver up her arm. 

“Thanks,” she said and he held her gaze, his silvery eyes dancing.  He smiled and raked a hand through his dark hair before sitting down on an overturned bucket beside her.  She opened her soda and waited for him to say something, all the while her insides stirred at his nearness.  He placed the can he held in his hands on the floor between his feet and turned to face her.  She strained to see him in her peripheral vision before stealing a glance at him.  When their eyes met, he leaned in toward her as if he were going to kiss her.  She stood and walked toward his work bench, effectively evading his kiss.

“These are cool,” she said nervously.  “What do they do?” She’d heard the words come out of her mouth and died a small death, cringing at how stupid she’d sounded.  Of course, she knew what a hammer, screwdrivers and saws were for.  And it wasn’t as though she’d never kissed a guy before.  She kissed many guys before, and gone a lot further than kissing.  But Luke seemed different than other guys at times.  When they were alone, he was sweet and silly, and kind of a gentleman.  Around his friends, he was a bit harder to read. 

“Well,” he said and lifted a hammer.  “This is a hammer.  You hit things with it, like nails and sometimes your thumb if you’re not paying attention.”  He smiled and winked at her as he inched closer.

“I know what they do,” she admitted and felt heat creep up her neck. 

“You just wanted to get the hell away from me,” he said still smiling.  “I get it.”

“No, not really.”

He turned and leaned his back against the bench, not looking at her.  He folded his arms across his chest.  With the sleeves of his shirt pushed up, she could see his tattoos more clearly, the colors and elaborate artistry.   She stepped back and reached out her hand and pulled one of his arms forward.  With her fingertip she outlined the outer edge of a serpent of some sort.  He seemed to like her touch because she noticed that goose bumps arose on his forearm.

“What is this, a snake or something?”

“No.  It’s the tail of a dragon,” he said and pushed his sleeve up farther.   His arm was lean, but muscled, nevertheless.  She doubted he lifted weights and that the bulge of his biceps and forearms was a result of the work he did in the garage. 

She traced the long
, curving tail of the dragon then looked up to find a pair of silver eyes trained on her.  They looked like pools of moonlight, mysterious, yet vulnerable, and contradicted everything else about his appearance.  Something deep within her was drawn to him intensely, and she wanted to act on it.  She did not hesitate a second longer.  Without considering it any further, she rose up onto her tiptoes and kissed Luke.  She pressed her lips to his, and found that his lips were deliciously warm and soft.  Surprised, but seemingly pleased, nonetheless, he reciprocated.  He kissed her sweetly at first, almost chastely.  But the feel of his lips instantly became like a drug to her.  She need more.  She nibbled at his bottom lip temptingly and he immediately responded, reading her need and answering it.  He crushed her mouth with his and wrapped his arms around her waist.  He pulled her body close to his.  She felt his heart racing against her chest.  Warmth filled her as his hand slid up her back and grazed the side of her breast.  Fueled by the brush of his hand, she pressed her body closer to him and felt his tongue slip between her lips, darting and probing.  His hands went up further and cupped her face briefly before moving to her hair. 

His fingers tightened in her hair and he pulled her closer.  Her body was already too tight against his, yet she did not care.  In fact, she felt it was not tight enough.  She urgently wanted to be closer still.  To her surprise though, his fingers relaxed a bit in her hair and slid down once again.  They stopped at her lower back and found the small strip of skin that hadn’t been covered by Stephanie’s T-shirt.  The roughness of his fingertips against her lower back made her wish he’d run them over every inch of her body.  She arched her back pushing her chest against his and kissed him more passionately, more fiercely, until his mouth left hers and followed the line of her jaw then explored the length of her neck.  She heard herself moan in delight.  He kissed and tantalized the tender skin of her neck, making his way back up from her collarbone until his teeth grazed her earlobe
.  She shivered, felt her body come alive.  She moved her hands from his hips up his back and dug her nails into his shoulders as he continued to kiss just below her ear.  The stubble of his chin swept along her neck, eliciting more moans from her.  She dropped her hands down to his lower back and lifted the back of his shirt, wanting the feel of his bare skin against her hands, against her body.  He dropped his hands as well and gripped her backside firmly.  Every part of her ached with want and she began to lift his shirt.  As she did so, her bag began to roar like Godzilla, her mother’s ringtone.

“Shit,” she muttered and felt the desire and urgency that had assembled within her moments earlier, begin to evaporate.

“Can’t you just ignore it?” he breathed in her ear, tempting her to do just that.

“No, it’s my mom.  She never calls me.  God only knows why she’s doing it now,” she said as she reluctantly pried herself from him and hurriedly crossed the garage to her backpack.  She rummaged for her phone for several seconds before she found it and answered.

“Hello mother.  You have shitty timing,” she said.

“Hi baby,” her mother said in a voice undoubtedly thickened with alcohol.  “I’m in a bit of a jam and could use some help.”

“What kind of jam?  Are you all right?” Arianna asked suddenly worried.

“Well, I just left the bar,” she began.

“Of course you did,” Arianna replied curtly.

“And I went to start my car, but it won’t start.”

“First of all, you shouldn’t be driving in the condition you’re in.  And second of all, when’s the last time you gassed up?”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone followed by giggling.  Arianna looked up and saw Luke looking at her.  “I’m sorry,” she mouthed to him.  He lifted his chin to ask if everything was okay and Arianna shook her head slowly.

“Oh baby! You’re not going to believe this,” her mother crooned.  “I’m all outta gas.  Silly me!  Think you could scare some up and bring it to Joe’s Bar?”

“If I had my bike that would be tough to do.  But since I don’t even have that,” she started but didn’t bother finishing her sentence.  What good would it do to tell her drunken mother about an accident that had happened hours ago?  Her mother would likely just find a way to make it about her and Arianna would end up consoling her mother over something that happened to her.  “Never mind.  I’ll be there soon,” Arianna said and ended the call.

“What was that all about?” Luke asked as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“My mother is drunk at a
bar and was about to drive home, but realized she has no gas,” she said and blew out an exasperated breath.  She wasn’t used to sharing her problems with anyone.  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take me to the gas station then drop me at Joe’s Bar, would you?”

He did not groan or complain, but disappointment was evident in his eyes.  “Sure, no problem,” he said.

“Are you sure?  You’ve done so much for me already.  I feel funny even accepting help from anyone, let alone a new friend.”

“I’m not your friend,” he said and looked longingly at her.  “Everything I do is to try and get in your pants,” he said and smiled mischievously. 

She playfully smacked him in the arm and said, “Really!  Keep trying!”

“Oh I think I was pretty close before,” he said and slapped her on her backside. 

She contemplated arguing, but he was right.  She would have given in to her desire if her mother hadn’t called.

“Well,” she stammered.

“Well what? No smartass comeback?”

“Well, no, not right now,” she said and tapped him on his arm again.