One Step Away (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 1) (12 page)

Alexander had to face the truth: he’d
allowed his fears to defeat him. He needed to learn how to fight
without panicking that he might kill someone. And he needed to
learn how to ride a motorcycle without thinking of what dangers
lurked around some imaginary corner, and instead focused on the
enjoyment and confidence that he could gain from the
experience.

All told, he knew he couldn’t remain the
same person, holding tight to the same lonely lifestyle. He had to
open up and try new things. The realization that he’d failed to
follow through with that thus far made his insides crawl.

If he wanted what had always eluded him, he
needed to become an active participant in his own life. And that
meant he needed to expand his mental and physical horizons. Only
then could he become the man he’d always hoped to become.

And it all started with facing his greatest
fears, one of which was indeed being able to shred up and down
streets with confidence on a motorcycle. If he learned how to ride,
if he stared down death and refused to quit, if he gained the
confidence needed to become the man he always wanted to be,
Alexander would one day get the life he had wanted for so long.
Maybe that meant getting together with Marisa. Maybe it didn’t. In
this instance, she didn’t even factor into the equation. If he
finally became the man he wanted to be, he could quit trying to
hold onto something that was perhaps never meant to be.

As Damon said earlier, if he wanted
something badly enough, he had to risk losing it. And although that
possibility rendered him momentarily frozen with mind-numbing fear,
he found no other solution.

The only way to dismiss the likelihood of
failure was to enact his plan. He needed to go all in. And
Alexander knew exactly where to start.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Across the bar, Marisa noticed that Brad’s
expression had changed while he read from a piece of paper that
he’d just unfolded. He scanned the page, his eyes flickering with
emotion, acknowledging the tremendous impact the words held for
him.

He read the page with such intensity that
Marisa couldn’t look away from him. Although unable to recognizable
the meaning behind his shift in temperament, she had the strong
impression that his emotions were significant. At times like these,
Marisa wished Brad would reveal his feelings, so she could
understand what he felt, but he always seemed reluctant.

Brad lowered the paper and, despite the
distance between them, he looked up and met Marisa’s face as though
he always knew where she stood in relation to him. His demeanor
transformed once again, this time granting her the opportunity to
comprehend his feelings. His face lit up with joy and pride
and…such deep emotion that, even from this distance, she saw his
eyes shimmer from the light overhead.

What had moved him to such an extent that
tears now shone in his eyes?

He headed toward her with tremendous
purpose, as though he had relinquished all of his qualms and
decided to be honest with himself for the first time. A captivating
smile spread across his lips.

This sudden transformation made Marisa’s
heart patter. All of her uncertainties, when it came to Brad were
now under reconsideration. The way he held her gaze, glowing with
cheerfulness, lifted her spirits.

He stopped in front of her, eyes locked onto
hers. He opened his mouth to speak but then shook off the choice,
instead holding the document toward her with a smile.

Transfixed, Marisa took the piece of paper
and only looked away from Brad when he turned and headed for the
restroom.

“Oh, my God,” Lauren said, sounding as if
she’d been holding her breath. “What was that all about?”

Marisa had forgotten that Lauren stood on
the other side of the table. She reached for her glass of soda with
a trembling hand, pressed it to her lips, and it bumped against her
lips a couple times before tipping the liquid into her mouth.

Her hands actually trembled with excitement.
The soda dissolved some of her apprehension, and she lowered the
glass. She unfolded the letter, turning it over, expecting to see
her name scrawled on the outside. Not seeing it, she flipped it
over again and found a short poem.

Looking into those soulful eyes makes me
realize

The skies are always blue whenever I’m with
you

Hearing your laugh, listening to your
voice

Makes me certain that I have no choice

I can look for another, but I’ll never be
complete

If you’re not beside me to my massage my
feet

Breaking into laughter, Marisa pulled the
page aside.

“What does it say?” Lauren asked, looping
around the table in a casual manner, even though she looked
desperate to read the note.

Marisa stepped away from her friend,
shielding her from the poem. She had waited a long time to hear how
Brad truly felt, and she wouldn’t share it with anyone – at least,
not the first time she read it.

I can’t imagine a closer and more important
friend

Someone to be there if I’m broken and need
to mend

I want to rest against your heart until our
last day

And enjoy your company in every single
way

I want a that life that we can share

And hope that you’re nearby to take me
there

No matter what I say, no matter what I
do

I know that I’ll always love you.

Figuring that the months they spent apart
made Brad realize how much he cared for her, Marisa couldn’t catch
her breath, and her chest felt tight. His foolish pride prevented
him from telling her until she called him. Otherwise, in his mind,
he would seem weak and needy.

Marisa hated the games that often came with
dating (the length of time that must pass before she called a guy,
reluctance to divulge how she felt about a man, etc.), but she knew
that Brad didn’t play games. He was always direct with her. So
admitting his feelings now, while unexpected, was not a power play
to see who had the upper hand in the relationship. He was letting
her know that he truly cared.

Just as important, Brad always seemed
reluctant to become part of a couple. In the past, she’d often
caught him checking out other women, but now that he obviously
wanted a long-term relationship, Marisa couldn’t help but think
that he needed her. Either Brad cared so much that he couldn’t risk
losing her to someone else, or he loved her so much that he wanted
a committed relationship and sought to spend his life with her.

Grinning, she presented the poem to Lauren
who scanned it, her eyes growing bright as she snaked an arm around
Marisa’s shoulders, drawing her close.

“I don’t believe it,” Lauren said with a
vibrant smile. “You made that Metal Head turn into a poet for
you.”

Marisa opened her mouth to respond, but she
spotted Brad walking toward her with an uncertain look on his face,
as though unsure how she might respond after reading the poem. She
gave him a soft smile.

Since words of affection didn’t come easily
to him, she wondered how much time and effort he had put into
writing the poem. Marisa imagined him sitting at the creaky table
in his cramped apartment, crumpled paper (failed attempts)
littering the floor, eraser shavings surrounding the final
composition. How many hours had he spent making sure he got each
word just right?

He closed in on her and took her in his
arms.

“I loved it,” Marisa said, almost getting
choked up again.

“So now you know how I truly feel?”

She nodded, meeting his lips with her own.
She didn’t even mind that his kiss lacked the yearning that burned
inside her. He never matched the emotion that she felt when they
embraced. This time, however, Marisa was so overcome with
excitement that she overlooked her own feelings and focused on how
Brad felt about her.

“Bye, you two,” Lauren said, somewhere in
the distance.

A few moments later, after peering into
Brad’s eyes, those words made Marisa realize that Brad had led her
out of the bar. The moment had totally swept her away. In the
parking lot, she told him to stop by her apartment before jumping
into her Ford Focus.

A short time later, she ran into her ranch
style two-bedroom apartment, threw her coat and purse on the couch,
and rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. Only then did she feel
the effects of the liquor she’d consumed. Dizzy, she still felt
giddy but also a little slow. It shocked her that a little over one
shot of liquor impaired her senses, and she thanked the Lord that
the effects hadn’t kicked in on her drive home.

She spent the next few minutes removing a
few cups and plates from the coffee table, and placing them in the
dishwasher, then putting a bunch of library books on
self-improvement into a couple piles on the floor beside the couch.
She grabbed the few blouses and pairs of slacks that she left lying
on her bed and tossed them into the closet.

With her heart knocking and her breath
coming quick, Marisa felt a wave of nausea come over her, but
taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly fought off the
sensation. She lit a chocolate chip-scented candle, Brad’s
favorite, just as she heard a knock at her front door. When she
turned to let him inside, Brad caught her in his arms and pressed
her against his chest, allowing her to feel the depth of his
feelings against her thigh.

Within moments, they kissed their way into
the bedroom. But the chocolate cookie scent mingled with the nausea
that now resurfaced inside her. Marisa broke away from him to hold
back the urge to gag.

“Come on, I’m not that bad of a kisser.”

Hearing his voice echoing in her brain as
she tried to trample her queasiness, Marisa felt saliva fill her
mouth. She bolted away from him and ran into the bathroom, then
crumpled before the toilet bowl, lifted the seat, and vomited into
the toilet. She grasped her hair with both hands to prevent it from
getting swabbed with puke, and threw up again, feeling better now
that her system purged the liquor.

“Should I hold your hair back or something?”
He sounded like he’d rather accompany Jack the Ripper on a killing
spree than act on his suggestion. “Isn’t that, like, what I’m
supposed to do or something?”

She shook her head. “God, this is so
embarrassing…guess I had one shot too many. Please go. I’ll call
you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. No problem.” He was quiet for a long
beat. “Are you sure, you don’t want me to—”

“Please, just go.”

“Because you don’t look—”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Um…okay then…hope you feel better soon.
Goodnight.”

When she heard the door shut from around the
corner, Marisa felt her heart swell with a heap of despondency.
Tears rushed into her eyes again. But this time, rather than give
in to the disillusionment of how her night might have turned out,
she steadied her nerves. She got to her feet and looked in the
mirror.

While reading Brad’s poem, she’d been giddy
with excitement (perhaps the liquor helped a bit in that area). And
because that was the first time she had heard about his feelings,
something he’d surely known for quite some time, she obviously felt
a more powerful connection than he did. Put that way, it made sense
that she’d overreacted.

So why did she expect him to know how she
felt?

Brad must have picked up on her cues at the
bar: she must have sounded reluctant…until she read his poem, at
which time he swept her out of the bar. And wasn’t it possible that
he truly wanted to help her while she threw up? Surely, she had
only herself to blame for how this night ended.

CHAPTER NINE

After having spent most of the previous
night doing research on motorcycles and checking out hundreds of
different bikes at numerous online venues, Alexander met Damon at a
Harley Davidson dealership the next morning to look at a 2004
Sportster that caught his eye.

As Damon checked out some accessories at the
end of the showroom, Alexander made his way through aisles of bikes
until he found it. The Sportster had oversized saddlebags, Python
pipes, a windshield, and chrome spokes on the front tire. He
grabbed a handlebar and got on.

“Nice,” Damon said, coming up to him. “This
is the one, huh?”

“Sure is,” he said, and asked Damon to take
it for a test ride. And that’s when his fears set in.

What if he dumped the bike and got road
rash, not only across his arms, chest, and legs, but his face? What
if he skidded on a puddle of water and slammed into a semi,
severing his legs? Then again, anyone can get into an accident,
regardless of the vehicle.

Sometime later, walking alongside the
salesman, Damon re-entered the building with a grin. “One hell of a
nice ride, dude.”

After speaking with Damon and questioning
various aspects with a salesperson, Alexander negotiated a fair
price for the bike and bought it.

A couple hours later, now inside an
elementary school parking lot, Alexander sat down on the Harley and
spent some time getting used to the 650-pound motorcycle and how
easily it tipped to either side. “This weighs four times as much as
me. How am I going to keep it stable?”

Damon said, “Speed will keep you upright.
Besides, I’ve seen lighter men riding heavier hogs.”

“Damn,” said Alexander. “For a romance
novelist, you watch way too much porn.”

Damon went over the basics, and after some
practice, which resulted in a little more familiarity, Alexander
spent time working on maintaining his balance, starting and
stopping, shifting gears, and turning. An hour later, shocked by
his quick learning curve, he somehow got the hang of it.