Head Over Wheels (Steamy New Adult Romance) (5 page)

"Sure. He needs to catch the teeth, then backpedal to lock it in place. No big deal." I shared his gaze with the tire. "So you're part of the event, huh?"
He angled his head, one eye closed to block out the sun, the other squinting at me.

"Um, yeah. You too?"

More approval. “Yep. Enjoying the day. How about you?”

“Oh yeah, I just love these events.”

Perspiration glistened on his forehead and his neck when he turned. He must have finger-brushed his hair again, because it fell in disarray. He looked overheated. Why not? We'd all be feeling the heat soon. And breaking down wasn't the best way to begin a cycling event.

"Would you like a bottle of water? I have some ..." I motioned to my bike, and Emma, who hadn't moved from beneath the cover of an elm branch.

“Sure. We should be finished here in a few minutes. I could use a break. We've been riding since sunrise."

"Sunrise?" I gulped. "Either you wanted to get an early start ... or we're very late."

He laughed. "I rode my bike down from Westchester. We hit some trails before heading over here."

"Sounds very energetic."

"Exhausting, you mean."

"So, you bike a lot?"

"Every chance I get, which isn't often enough. How about you?"

"Me?"
Think quick, Jewel.

"Nah. You'd rather be cruising in your Porsche. Am I right?"

"Yeah, sure. That's me. Touring Manhattan in my 911."

He laughed again. "Kidding aside. Cycling's amazing. Fresh air. Great for the body. Perfect for getting as close to nature as possible."

"Like taking long walks after dinner, I guess. Good for digestion and all." I shrugged.
How dumb do you sound? Talking about bodily functions? Next you'll be telling him you sometimes pass gas when you do sit-ups.

"Even better, since you can go further on a bike. Do more sightseeing. I'd ride cross country if I had the time."

"I'll take the Porsche." My lips squeezed together, showing off my dimples."Now, if you were talking beaches  ... then I'd be more likely to go further."

"So you like the beach, huh?"

"Who doesn't?"

I turned my gaze to Emma, who looked stunned, her stare glued to the squatting guy fumbling with the chain.

Her expression told me she was enjoying more than the nature blooming around us. Something else radiated across her face.
Let me guess. He's so hot you're intimidated?
Never happen ...With a flip of my wrist I waved her on, nodding encouragingly while acting as nonchalant as humanly possible.

Emma, exquisitely statuesque, finally managed a tight head-shake. Cracking a grin, she mouthed something.

"No way," I mouthed back after making certain the guys weren't in a position to intercept our miming conversation.

Yes way
. The arch of her lips widened. She appeared to be thawing out.

I
n the distance a clear stream poured over rocks, around curves, disappearing behind a knoll. I longed to strip off my spandex, douse every inch of my body with cool water. By that point in our journey, I'd have been heading home for an ice-cold shower had it not been for college Joe.

His charcoal shirt deepened the gray in his eyes, highlighting the blue. I'd been right. Chameleon eyes, changing tone with the colors he wore. He really
was
a gorgeous specimen: tall and powerfully built, with tousled hair, tanned skin, straight nose and full lips.

Shifting from foot to foot I watched  him, feeling like gravel on a sidewalk, trying to drum up interesting conversation. “It’s starting to get pretty hot,” I said as I gripped the bottom hem of my clinging T-shirt. I shook it away from my body, not intending to show off any part of my D cups, or skin. But from his angle, he might have caught a slice of my bare midriff.

"Sure is." Smiling, his gaze moved from my stomach to my face, and his lashes fanned those smoldering eyes, drawing me too close for comfort. "Yeah ... " he nodded, "I remember you from Kelly's," slipped easily through his lips, and I almost fainted on the spot. "Who could forget someone like ... a fellow mocha latte drinker." Then his expression grew guarded, and he turned away, fidgeting with the tire before lowering it to the ground. I thought he flushed, but it could have been the rising heat of the day.

He had to be used to girls flocking to his side on a daily basis. Daily? How about hourly? What was with the shy act? If that's what it was ... Or could it be disinterest? I felt so inadequate, my stomach clenched. He was like the 18K gold necklace I longed for, something I might be able to caress, but never call my own. Why was I even bothering? Then I heard my dad's words, with the utmost affection and pride, telling me, "Jewelia, you're a scrapper. A survivor." What the hell? I was here. Why not? I might as well live up to my name and make him proud ... but the thoughts brewing in my head made me cringe. Don't listen, Dad ...

His friend stood and stretched his back, then brushed his hands off. "I think it'll hold." His attention turned to me, his eyes taking the same path Joe's had taken not more than five minutes earlier. "Hey," he said. "How's it going?" As he spoke he flexed the muscles of his neck, creating a flirty head-jerk. I couldn't help but notice how Joe observed his every move, kind of calculating, but remained silent.

"Hey. I'm Jewelia." What made me more comfortable with
friend
? I held out my hand. Ready to do Emma the biggest favor of her life, and let him know he wasn't my choice, I bopped my head in her direction. "That's Emma up there, holding up that tree."

He chuckled and his eyes followed mine. Apparently Emma had been watching, because the smile I'd left her with lingered, but now her brow lifted. I gave her
the eye
, hoping she'd hurry over before the opportunity died, along with my hopes.

"How are you doing, Jewelia? I'm Bill." He released his bike and gripped my hand. His attention, suddenly captured by Em, seemed to tighten his expression, along with his fingers that almost crushed mine.
Am I missing something here?

"I'm great," I replied, although I seemed to be the last thing on his mind.

College Joe stood at his side, still taking it all in, then dropped himself into the conversation. "I'm Indigo." He took a step forward and reached for my hand. I scrutinized his gaze, imagining him to be thinking: "Where have you been all my life?"

The concept, and physical contact, jolted me. I had to keep the
phew
from puffing though my lips, and hoped my palm didn't feel clammy. "Nice to meet you." My voice was as light as the breath I was holding.

"Jewelia ..." Surrounded by his deep voice, I'd just been airbrushed by my own name. "Jewelia ..." he deliberated, "very pretty." Did he have to repeat it? My legs almost buckled. The purse of his lips made it sound prettier than ever.

"Indigo ... unusual." I must have appeared confused, because he immediately pointed out with a grin, "My name is James Ballou ... properly pronounced,
blue
, which obviously morphed into Indigo," he let out the cutest combination of a humph and chuckle, "and it stuck. My friends rarely call me James."

"Then I'll be sure to call you Indigo. My friends call me Jewel." Lost in his eyes, the flirt slipped easily through my lips.

Aware of the grip of our hands even after we'd finished speaking, our fingers loosened, hesitated, then grudgingly unlocked. We were so in tune.

Emma appeared at my side and I grabbed her arm, offering an enthusiastic introduction. However, Emma needed no intro. Neither did Bill.

"Emma?" Bill's lips barely moved. After speaking her name, his entire face broke into a smile, clearly elated by the full impact of her presence.

"Billy..." She choked his name as though it had been lodged deep in her throat, like a caged butterfly finally free to fly.

Evidently, there was history between them. Why hadn't she ever told me?

"Billy Arkana." She seemed to be struggling with her lips.

Indigo shot him a look. "Billy Arkana? What happened to William Addison?"

Tearing his eyes from Emma's, Bill turned to Indigo and smirked. "Texas rock star days."

Arms folded over his chest, Indigo burst out laughing. "Arkana. Creative."

Bill fanned out his arms. "What can I say?"

"No need to explain ... Billy." Indigo turned to me and grinned. His stance was relaxed, his long legs slightly spread in the masculine way that made women drool, creating such a stir in my tummy I had to fight the urge to close in on him.

Managing to retain my composure, I shrugged. "This is news to me too." I focused on Emma, but catching her eye was impossible. She looked entranced.

"How have you been, Billy?" Emma shifted his attention back to her, and only her. They fell into their own private conversation. It was as though Indigo and I were two invisible creatures left to fend for ourselves, which was fine with me. I'd never want to share him with anyone. The blonde bimbo edged into my brain, but I forced her aside.

I couldn't help but keep an ear on Em and Bill's conversation, noting her voice dropped dramatically and sweetened like I'd never have believed possible. I shot her a grin that went undetected. The
grounded psych
was suddenly flighty.

"I'm good, Billy. Life's been good. I'm a clinical psychologist." Her words eased, reflecting her demeanor. "I work for the State."

"You reached your goal ..." Bill reacted as if Emma had found a cure for every major disease, or something equally monumental.

"Yes." She smiled, admiration contagious. "What about you?"

"I'm into drugs," he said, casually brushing a hand over his hair, while his other hand rested on a hip.

Em stiffened, then took a step back.

I recoiled. "Huh?"

"He just pushes them." Arms still folded across his chest, legs still spread in that enticing stance, Indigo appeared calm and in control, obviously amused by our reactions to Bill's statement. Or was it an admission? I was totally confused ... and concerned. Em's face said she agreed. And did she look disappointed.

"Pharmaceutical rep," Bill clarified.

I felt the sigh of relief Em let out.

"He likes to shock people with the drug line." As he watched his friend in action, Indigo kept shaking his head. "In reality, he's a nerd."

"Look who's talking. I'm surprised you left the kids long enough to ride today." Bill wore a perpetual grin. When Indigo's eyes cut into him, he palmed his forehead. "I forgot, you're the organizer."

The kids? Don't tell me he's married, and Bill slipped ...

Indigo's expression clouded. Angling his head over my shoulder, his stare fixed on the cyclists. Crap. Was he ready to hop back onto his bike and join the procession that forged on without us?

Bill took a bottle of hand sanitizer from his pack and offered it to Indigo, who still hadn't recovered from his mood swing. Maybe the tag, Indigo, was appropriate for more than one reason ...
dark blue ... dark side.

Perspiration drizzled across Bill's forehead, the line of his wavy dark hair that fringed his ears. "I could use a break," he said, reaching for his water bottle. "Join me?" he directed to Emma, who joyfully obliged, following him to a spot where willows bowed a gentle shelter.

"You haven't changed." I heard her giggle. "Do you still rock out with the band?"

"Nope. No more singing." He sounded bummed.

Indigo shot me a questioning brow. My eyes unintentionally lowered, and I felt a nervous smile bud. In moments, side by side we were on our way into shade, water bottles in hand.

"I've never seen him this way." Indigo sounded as stumped as I felt.

"Ditto with Em. High school, I guess?"

"Seems that way."

The stream we settled beside bubbled and glittered, murmuring tranquility. Emma and Bill sat opposite one another, crossed legged on the cropped lawn. Indigo and I followed suit. After a brief discussion of weather, and how lucky we all were because the cycling event had managed to squeeze itself in between rainy days predicted by the weatherman, the chit-chat grew personal.

"Do you live in the city?" Indigo asked, eyes moving from me to Emma then diving back into mine.

Em and I nodded. "Uh huh."

"And you?" I asked, addressing both guys, but focusing openly on Indigo.

When we all established we had apartments within a ten mile radius we laughed.

"I can't believe we're almost neighbors and have never run into each other before," Bill marveled. He seemed to be a smooth talker, but  honest. "And girls like you two would be difficult to miss, even in a crowded city. So how did this happen?" He grinned at Emma.

“It must be fate.” I’d never seen Emma flirt before. It was refreshing. “Tears you apart ... brings you back together again. Kind of how the ocean drags shells out to sea, then brings them back to shore ... dredging up what could have been buried forever had it not been for the strength of the tide.” Wow, and philosophical. Bill had some effect on her.

"I actually
almost
met Jewel," Indigo corrected, his side glance awkward ... nervous?

"So, this is the mysterious beauty I've been hearing about for weeks?" Amazement filled Bill's voice. "I'll be damned." He looked from Emma to me, then back to Indigo. "What a day. We both got to meet our ..."

Mysterious beauty? What the hell?
Listening to Bill, my eyes widened, and if capable of sound they would have snapped,
Huh?
directly into Indigo's ... but his stunned stare was not pointed at me.

Indigo looked like he wanted to sew Bill's mouth shut, his glare bringing his friend's perfunctory disclosure to a halt. Bill looked surprised, but with a grinning shrug turned to concentrate on Emma, whose eyes roamed over every inch of him, pulling him back each time his gaze shifted even slightly.

A ruffling breeze dried our hairlines. I unleashed my ponytail, shaking out my hair, then palms on the ground I stretched my arms behind my back, tossed my head up, drank in the day. I could feel Indigo's eyes absorb the lines of my elongated neck, the exaggerated arch of my spine which in turn emphasized my chest. I wondered if my sprouting nipples could be detected through my cotton sports bra and lightweight T-shirt.

Beneath me the grass felt like velvet. With lowered lids I watched Indigo's fingers pluck blades, with thumb and middle finger tossing them idly into the air.

"It's too soon to be falling asleep." His comment oozed, wrapped around my head, sounding enticingly intimate, underscoring our proximity.

Without thinking, I let out an, "Mmm," mimicking his tone. "Just relaxing." I didn't force the yawn that followed, which had nothing at all to do with his presence.

His stare felt warmer than the sun. I giggled, tilting my head, peeking through one eye. "I'm awake."
God, am I awake.

"That's good, because we've got a long way to go, Jewel."

Dios mío ... [My God ...
]
Did he just say that? Was it like a double meaning? Oh ... my ...
The butterflies inside my stomach were lethal, but I was not about to let the rabid swarm threaten my composure.

When I turned to face his smooth voice, I watched the corners of his eyes crease, softening his intensity. I desperately wanted to know absolutely everything about Indigo. Still, I couldn't weaken my guard – or my game.

Taking a long breath of fresh air I smiled lazily. "Cycling really isn't my thing," I confessed with the cutest facial expression I could fashion at the moment, "but you should see me on a dance floor." I batted my lashes, pressed my lips together just enough to deepen my dimples.

"I'd love to." He looked serious, like the wheels inside his head were turning, and my flutters went ballistic.

"What did he mean?" I swung my head in Bill's direction. "When he said something about leaving the kids?" As I asked, my stomach lurched, worrying about what his answer might be.