Chasing Destiny (7 page)

Unfortunately, the sun hadn’t melted my anger over the fact that Kristin had slept with her ex-boyfriend. She was my friend and I didn’t want to see her get hurt.

I came home from class starving and immediately went to the kitchen to look for something to eat. I was back to eating healthy, which meant all the food I had bought the other day was a waste and I’d actually have to cook. Neither situation sounded appealing.

Opening the fridge, I jumped back and gagged. Something—a rat, maybe—had crawled inside it and died. The smell was
disgusting
. I placed my t-shirt over my nose and moved back to the fridge, my back toward the wall and movements slow. Then I realized the smell was not going to attack me and I looked ridiculous. I shuffled through the contents, trying to find what was causing the funk, and found that fucker as soon as I moved the milk.

“Ugh,” I moaned, keeping my shirt in place, “this is fucking putrid.” I couldn’t tell what it used to be, I just knew whatever it was, it was the culprit. I picked up the bowl and immediately had to choke down the bile rising in my throat. The smell was horrendous.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kristin asked as she stepped inside the apartment and closed the door.

“This,” I replied, still keeping my nose covered as I lifted the bowl. “Shit! I think this has been in there since Miranda lived here.” Maybe I was exaggerating, but only a little.

“Gross! What is that?”

“I don’t know, but I’m taking the bowl to the dumpster and tossing the whole thing. I don’t want to eat off something that had whatever
that
was in it.”

“Good,” she replied as I walked closer and waved it in her face. She scrunched her nose and tried to bat my arm away. “Stop it, jackass!”

I chuckled as I continued walking out the door and across the parking lot to where the dumpster was located. I tossed the bowl and it shattered into tiny pieces before I turned and walked back to the apartment.

Uncovering my nose, I took several deep breaths of fresh air. I needed a bleach bath for my nostrils. Once I could no longer smell the lingering effects of the rotten food, I opened the door and walked back inside. Kristin was waving a can of Oust around, spraying it all over the kitchen, and judging by the strong scent, she had already covered the living room.

“I think that’s enough,” I coughed, waving my hand through the air. She was beginning to make a fog.

She turned toward me and let her finger drift off the nozzle. “You think? That was awful.”

“Yeah,” I replied, flopping down on the couch. “In fact, now I’m worried we may need to stay somewhere else. You basically fumigated the place.”

“It’s not that bad!” she said as she slammed the can on the kitchen counter.

I gave her a look that let her know I was right, then let my head fall backward to rest on the couch, breathing a big sigh. Now that my stomach had settled from the smell, I was back to starving. “Want to go with me to the grocery store? I’m going to die from starvation. And this place needs to air out. My eyes are starting to burn.”

“
Whatever.
”
 She glanced back toward the fridge and I prayed she wouldn’t open it. “I guess. I don’t have anything else going on.”

I stood up and stepped closer to the door. “Come on then,” I said, turning the knob. Kristin followed and we walked toward my truck. “Doing anything later?”

“Not that I know of,” she said before we both opened the doors and got inside.

“I want to take you somewhere when we get back.”

“Okay.” She glanced toward the right. “I don’t know anything about bikes, but I like that one. I bet the owner is hot.”

I chuckled and nodded. She had no fucking idea. “Probably. Or an old man with a Santa beard and grease stained skin.”

“Can I pick the music?” she asked with puppy dog eyes.

“Sure.” I tossed my phone into her lap. “It’s all yours.”

I began driving away as she scrolled through my music. A minute later,
Under the Bridge
by the Red Hot Chili Peppers began pouring from the speakers. “Good choice.”

“I know.” Kristin began belting out the lyrics, and I wished I had my guitar on me. Better yet, I wished I had my drum kit so I could show Kristin another one of my many talents.
Why the hell do I want to show Kristin my talents? I’m being a douche.

After the song stopped, she chose Justin Moore’s
You Look Like I Need a Drink
. Obviously Kristin was just as eclectic in her musical tastes as I was. I already knew this, but within the last week it was as if I was seeing her and all her quirks and likes for the first time. And good God, seeing her body for the first time was slowly killing me. KILLING ME. Kristin had the hottest body I had ever seen. Beautiful face with big, brown eyes, killer rack, flat stomach, nice flare to her hips, and long legs—perfection.

“Why do you keep looking at me?”

Her voice broke me from my thoughts. “What? I was looking at you?”
Oh, darlin’, I wasn’t just looking at you, I was doing a whole lot more.

“Yeah, and you need to concentrate on driving.” She lifted a brow, giving me a stern look.

“Yes, ma’am.” I kept my eyes on the road the rest of the time, trying my hardest not to think about what the body sitting next to me would look like without clothes on. I pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store and parked. “We’re here.”

“Yep,” she replied before getting out and slamming her door.

I followed suit, and we walked into the store and grabbed a cart. I had to chuckle to myself. We looked very domestic.

“Do you need some of that protein stuff?”

“I get it at the gym. I just need some meat and veggies. And apples.” I strolled over to the apple bin and began picking out a few good ones. Once I had as many as I wanted, I asked, “Do you want some?”

“I can get some in a minute.”

Rolling my eyes, I picked a few more out for Kristin, tied the bag I had shoved them into, and placed them in the cart. We continued this process for a while and then began going up and down the aisles, picking out random things.

“I made a huge mistake the other night,” Kristin blurted.

“With the shithead?” I asked, throwing some peanut butter into the cart.

“Yeah,” she whispered as she strolled down the aisle, pushing the cart and looking at nothing on the shelves. “I-I…we slept together. You already knew that, but Adam…it’s like he thinks we can be like friends with benefits or something.”

“Not what you want?” I asked, hoping against hope she didn’t.

“No.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want that. I barely wanted to be his friend. I knew sleeping with him was a mistake as soon as I did it. That’s why I bailed when he left the room.”

I barked out a laugh. “If that doesn’t show him you don’t want him, nothing will. I almost want to feel sorry for him. Almost.”

“I just don’t know what to do now.”

“Tell him to fuck off—or I can,” I told her, and I wasn’t lying. I could make sure he never bothered her again with one visit to his apartment, or house, or wherever the fuck the rich douche lived.

“I don’t want you involved.” She pushed the cart into the next aisle. “I just needed to tell someone and Holly would never let me hear the end of it. She hates Adam.”

“She’s a smart girl.”

That got her to laugh. “That is stretching it.”

We continued shopping and I tried to throw her in the cart, but she protested so loudly, everyone in the store began staring at us. I didn’t mind, but her face was beet red with embarrassment. Later, I tried running, then jumping on the back of the cart to see how far down the aisle I would roll, but she didn’t like that either. Kristin wasn’t in a playful mood. She was in a sullen mood over Adam, but I planned on fixing that.

After what felt like forever, we paid for everything and drove home. I had just put away the last of the items when I hollered down the hallway, “You ready to go?”

“Go where?” Kristin yelled back from her bedroom.

“It’s a surprise.”

“The last time you dragged me out, I fell down a snow-covered hill.”

I laughed at the memory. Still funny as shit. “I promise that won’t happen this time.”

“Okay,” she said, walking down the hallway. “Let me grab my jacket.”

“Maybe put your hair up,” I suggested as I walked toward my room to grab my keys.

When I returned to the living room, Kristin was leaning against the door, jacket on, hair up, and eyes closed.
So fucking gorgeous
, I thought before stopping myself.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

I opened the door and motioned for her to go first. She walked to the passenger side of my truck as I strolled toward my bike. “Over here.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“This is the surprise.”

She walked closer, her eyebrows pulled in. “This is your bike?”

“Yep,” I said, pulling her closer to me. “You nailed it, flower girl, when you said the owner was probably hot. Damn right he is.”

Her full lips parted and her eyes widened. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and never let go. I hated to admit it, but I was falling for Kristin in a completely non-friendship way. I wanted her to be
my
girl. Kristin is sexy, smart, fun, and kind—perfect. But I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t chance it.

“
Where is your Santa hat?
”

“
What?
”
 I asked, genuinely confused.

“
You said the owner might have a Santa beard...
”
 she huffed. 
“
Never mind.
”
 She rolled her eyes.

I chuckled and shook my head as I reached behind me and grabbed the helmet. “Let’s go have some fun.” I placed the helmet on her head, then turned away. I had to before I kissed her.

Straddling the bike, I helped her get on the back and her arms wrapped around me. “Ready?”

“Yep,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. She wanted to have fun.

“Okay.” I kicked the stand back and started the engine. A moment later, we were rolling out of the lot and pulling into traffic. I couldn’t go very fast with the cars everywhere, but I could still feel her arms tightening around me. I hated—
hated
—to admit how much I loved the feel of her.

We pulled up to a stoplight. “You okay?” I hollered. The day was turning to night and the air was beginning to chill. To me, it felt perfect.

“Yep. I’m great.”

“Good,” I said just as the light turned green again. We began moving and her head fell onto my shoulder, almost nuzzling me. A part of me wondered if she was beginning to feel the same way about me. The other part wanted to go find a random girl to screw so Kristin wouldn’t have those feelings for me. The thought of a random girl suddenly made me feel ill.
I want Kristin.
I was so damn confused and I was thankful we were nearing the interstate. It would lead me to the outskirts of town and down a back road. I’d be able to free my head of all the jumbled thoughts and just feel cold night air on my face.

I turned right, then yelled back toward Kristin, “Now, the fun really begins.”

Kristin

I couldn’t believe the bike belonged to Carson. I had no idea where it had come from, but I didn’t care. The cold air was hitting my face and I was having one of the best nights I could remember. Plus, I had wrapped myself as close as I possibly could around Carson. I loved the way he felt. I loved it too much.

While he was driving down the interstate, I let the air zip over my face and closed my eyes. It was an exhilarating sensation, not seeing anything but feeling everything. And I loved that I was experiencing it with Carson.

He finally drove down some back roads, nobody but the two cars we passed and us. Well, maybe some cows. We weren’t going very fast because of all the potholes and loose pavement, but it still felt thrilling, like I was leaving all my worries over Adam in the wind behind us.

“You still doing okay back there?” I could barely hear him over the roar of the motor, but he was loud enough I didn’t have to yell “Huh?” and “What?” every time he spoke.

“Yeah.”

He slowed the bike down and pulled over on top of a hill. Once he killed the engine, I unwrapped myself from his body and climbed off, unclasping the helmet. My legs felt stiff and my hair was a tangled mess.

“I thought you might need a break,” Carson said as he stood up, took his helmet off, and shook his brown hair into a sexy look. Goodness, he looked like every girl’s fantasy—facial scruff, beautiful blue eyes, muscles, all standing next to a Harley. The only thing that could’ve made it better was if his sleeve of tattoos had been visible.

“Did you just buy this?” I asked, bringing my attention back to the bike.

“No. I bought it the summer after I graduated high school.” He turned and looked at it. “I worked my ass off working for my dad as much as I possibly could to pay for it. They bought my old SUV, but I had to work for the bike.”

“What does your dad do?” Why had he never told me about his bike, and why do I not know what his dad does? We talk about everything.

“He’s an accountant.” He leaned his head back to look at the starry sky. “And I’m pretty sure I mentioned I have a bike before.”

“I guess it just never clicked that it was like a real motorcycle.”

He glanced over at me, his brows pulled in. “You thought I was talking about a bicycle? You thought I rode around town picking up girls on a
bicycle
?”

“I don’t know.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but didn’t. He leaned back against the bike, sitting on the seat. “You feeling better?”

“I really do,” I said. “Thanks, Carson.”

“You’re welcome. That’s what friends do. They make each other feel better. Although, I already planned to take you on a ride.” I hated the way he said friends. I knew that’s what we were and I loved it, but I hated that he also meant there would never be an option for anything more.

“When did you go get it?” I asked as I wrapped my arms around my torso.