Heartless (15 page)

I watched him through the window. My stomach fluttered when I saw him in his black leather jacket, boots, and dark jeans. The moment he pulled his helmet from his head seemed surprisingly intimate to me, because as soon as it was removed he raked his fingers through his hair, fluffing it in some places, smoothing it in others. It was a private moment. Him putting himself together. Readying himself for me, for life off the bike. Life
on
the bike was its own world, too. Separate somehow from the walking, talking, driving world. It was this moment of transition I liked to witness. When he’d finished with his hair (and this morning I noted he quickly checked himself in the side mirror, which made me smile) he reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled out a folded piece of black leather. He shook it out and I saw it was another jacket. For me?

He looked up then and I quickly pulled back from the window, but I saw him grin so he must have seen me. Oh well, it’s not like I’d broken a law or anything. I was allowed to stare at a cute guy. Especially one I’d laid a claim on. My heart skipped at that. He’d told me that yesterday, that he wanted me to lay a claim on him, and that was as good as saying he wanted to be my boyfriend, even though we hadn’t made anything official yet. It was still too soon. Official would mean other things, intimate things, and probably meeting the parents and all. I sighed with relief that Marsha and Wayne were still out of town. Maybe I’d be ready for the serious part by the time they got home.

I opened the front door before Josh knocked and I found him grinning on the stoop, which made me grin, too.

“You ready?” he said.

“No, not at all.” Even though I stood there with my jacket done up and my purse over my shoulder.

He smiled. “Here.” He handed me the leather jacket. “I borrowed it from my mom. Your denim’s too light.”

I slipped out of it and tossed it on a nearby chair. The leather jacket was a bit big for me but it smelled good. Like jasmine and patchouli. “Where are we going? Aren’t we going to be too hot?”

“It’s cooler on the bike. When we get where we’re going we can take the protective layers off.”

Sometimes the things he said sounded like they had double meanings. Outer protective layers might come off, but some of the inner ones would have to stay.

I had thrown a pair of flip flops in my purse so I could take my boots off later, an idea I had picked up from Josh and his ‘dinner shoes’. Early July was hot in LA, and I would be a soppy, sweaty mess in no time—and I was damp enough around Josh already.

“I’m so curious about where you’re taking me.”

“You seriously have no idea? I was sure you would guess.”

I shook my head and locked the front door. We walked toward the bike and Josh handed me the helmet strapped to the back seat.

“Give me your purse and I’ll put it in the saddlebag.”

I did and then I assessed the helmet. It was big but the opening seemed small. Would my head even fit in there? And what would happen to my hair? I hadn’t come up with my own helmet-head plan, though I was pretty sure I had a hair tie in my purse. I could always pull it into a pony if it got horribly smushed on top and wind-ratted at the bottom. Would Josh even care? I think he was just happy I trusted him enough to let him take me on a motorcycle ride. Another reason to feel relieved Marsha and Wayne were away; Aunt Marsha would definitely say no to this. But I was on my own this summer making my own decisions, taking some risks. I hadn’t realized it would be so much fun.

Josh straddled the bike first, holding it upright between his legs. He looked awfully sexy like that and I just wanted to stand there staring for awhile.

“Get on,” he said.

I shoved the helmet on my head and tightened the strap under my chin. Gingerly, I slid one leg between Josh’s back and the second seat’s small back rest. To get my full weight on the seat, I had to hold on to Josh’s back and it felt so good to touch him. My stomach got all fluttery when I realized I would get to hold on to him for the whole ride. I felt for the foot rests with my toes and found my balance. Josh was strong enough to hold the both of us and the bike upright while he put his helmet on.

“Hold on tight,” he said in a muffled voice.

I slid my arms around his waist. Actually a little higher, so I didn’t rub against his you-know-what, and I interlaced my fingers.

“Tighter,” he said.

I squeezed, drawing my chest into his back. I could feel his ribs expanding with his breath. That must have been tight enough because he fired up the engine and backed us down the driveway. On the street, he adjusted a few things and then revved the engine.

As we pulled away from the curb, my heart flew to my throat. The power of the machine between our legs propelled us forward much faster than I'd expected. I squeezed Josh tighter, probably too tight, but he didn’t flinch. My life was in his hands and suddenly I felt terrified. I took a deep breath, made a choice to
trust
Josh, at least for this ride, and soon a wave of calm slid over my fears. He handled the bike expertly, controlled the gears for a smooth and stable ride, and then I could feel the excitement of the power and freedom of moving through the world with wheels beneath me. It was exhilarating. It was fun. It made me hungry for more.

As soon as we turned on to Los Feliz Boulevard I had an inkling of where Josh was taking me. When he made a left on Vermont, I squeezed him tighter and squealed, though I don’t think he heard me through the helmets and the roar of the engine. He got my body language though and took one hand off the handlebars to give my knee a squeeze. Even though I couldn’t see his face I pictured him smiling, pleased that I was pleased. I think he really wanted to make me happy. Just the idea of that made me happier than I’d ever felt in my whole life. Here was someone in the world that truly cared about me. And I had my arms wrapped around him.

We wove up the curvy road to the parking lot of the Griffiths Observatory. All of Los Angeles spread out below us. From here, I could see the Hollywood sign off to the right, and farther away was the sea, though the marine layer over the city made it difficult to see where the shore met the water and where the water gave way to the sky.

The parking lot was crowded, given that it was a Sunday in summer, but Josh tucked his motorcycle into a spot close to the lawn that fanned out in front of the two-story building with a massive dome in the center and two smaller domes on each end. The lawn, and the path leading through it to the front steps of the Observatory, was one of my favorite places; carved into the pavement was a map of the solar system, with the sun represented by a central obelisk. Circles around this centre showed the orbits of the different planets.

When Josh turned the motor off, he got off the bike and then helped me descend. I tugged off my helmet so fast I hurt my ears. I gave no thought to my hair, which had to be a mess. Josh raked his hand through his hair so automatically it must be an unconscious gesture. I paused for a moment, drinking in his handsomeness. Though, in this moment, his outer beauty was no match for what was inside of him. His kindness and his thoughtfulness blew me away and as soon as we both had our helmets off I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a big hug. It didn’t matter that I was burning up in my boots and leather—it was stinkin’ hot up here on the slope of Mount Hollywood. Josh was hot, too, and as soon as our bodies pressed together a whole other heat surged forth. Now I wanted to rip off all my clothes for
two
reasons.

“Thank you,” I gushed. “This is perfect.”

“I know how much you love the stars.”

I pulled away from him and took off my jacket, desperate to cool down. He did the same, opening the saddlebags to stash our jackets and handing me my purse. I immediately took out my flip-flops and sat down on the curb to take off my boots.

“Smart cookie,” he said, watching me.

“You didn’t bring a change? I got the idea from you.”

He shook his head and gave me a crooked smile. “I guess I’ll have to suffer.”

I rolled up my jeans, Capri style.

“It’ll be cooler inside, we could start there,” I said.

“Good idea.”

Josh had a special locking strap for the helmets and a combination for his saddlebags.

“Can’t trust all these tourists.” He winked.

And speaking of tourists, every female (and some of the males) watched Josh as he passed by. He looked hot, and this time I meant it figuratively. His white T-shirt stretched across his sculpted chest and contrasted sharply with his tanned arms. His dark jeans hugged his tight butt and when he walked the denim moved in such a way to accentuate his package in front. His hair, raked and fluffed, looked sexy-messy, and his aviators added mystery and drew attention to his chiseled jaw. I swear he looked like a modern James Dean (who’s head and shoulders had been immortalized in a bust on the west side of this very observatory). I was glad Josh’s sunglasses shielded his eyes, because if those female tourists got a look at those baby blues they’d probably stop dead in their tracks and start drooling. I grabbed Josh’s hand as we crossed Pluto’s orbit; he was
my
James Dean.

Inside was refreshingly cool. We wandered through the west wing, known as the Hall of the Sky. The displays always humbled me. The delicate balance of Earth’s position relative to the sun was what made life possible on this planet.

“You can’t look at all this and tell me you don’t think the stars and planets don’t exert some influence on us,” I said.

Josh shrugged. “I prefer astronomy to astrology. I like the science of it. But I don’t know if I can go so far as to say the position of Neptune in the sky is having an affect on my dreams.”

“Why not? It makes more sense than what lots of people on this planet believe.” Plus I wondered why how he’d guessed that Neptune actually did affect dreams, and the inner and spiritual life. I thought he was more intuitive than he was willing to admit.

“Sense and belief don’t really mix, Heather. Science easily displaced the notion of a God sitting up in Heaven waiting to judge us all.”

“But you have to believe in something, don’t you?”

“I told you before, I believe in Fate. Or something like that.”

“So you believe that everything’s predetermined?”

“No, not exactly. More like, what happens is meant to happen. Like the two of us meeting.”

I nodded. “You believe it was Fate.”

“And you think it was the stars. That’s not much different.”

“Maybe it was just a random occurrence. A matter of coincidence.”

Josh shook his head. “When you have a strong reaction, like an attraction or a revulsion, I think something more than coincidence is at play.”

I thought about attraction and revulsion as we slowly walked around the pillar of solar telescopes.

“So fate drove you to Marcie, too, then?”

Josh stopped and bowed his head. His cheeks flushed and his brows knitted together. My comment seemed to have made him mad. He took a few moments before saying, “I think I learned what I had to learn from that situation.”

I watched his jaw clench and unclench as we continued to walking.

“And what was that?” I don’t know why I was pressing the point. I guess the image of Marcie’s naked body was still impressed on my brain and that made
me
mad, and jealous.

We stepped into the Seasons alcove for some privacy.

Josh threw his head back and chewed on his lower lip while he thought. He finally sighed and said, “Look, Heather. I don’t always feel that great about myself.”

I perked up. This was news to me.

“I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t have a dad around or what. I mean, I did at the beginning, and then…”

He seemed to be having as hard a time as I was talking about his past. He slid his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“My mom split from my dad when I was little. She moved away, to LA, to start her life over. But a little while after that, after my dad remarried, he and his new wife launched a custody battle. It was brutal. It started with him coming out to see us. He took me out to the park and, well, he didn’t bring me back.”

“He
kidnapped
you?”

“It freaked me out, but he told me I could trust him, that we were going on an adventure. I was only five. I didn’t know any better. He said I’d see my mom later and that I was a lucky boy because I was going to have another mom. A better mom.” He got choked up at this.

“Oh, Josh. That’s awful.”

“It was three months before I saw her again.”

That could explain why the two of them were so close.

“My mom didn’t have much money. She had to take out loans to hire lawyers and shit. She did everything to get me back. I guess I’ve always felt kind of guilty about all that. And then my dad, he was a piece of work. He and his new wife were super religious and believed it was some sort of divine plan that I stay with them.” Josh coughed out a laugh. “Funny, I never thought of it quite like that before—the whole Fate thing, a divine plan, maybe I’m not so different from him after all.” He shuddered and seemed to sink inward.

I held his hand, trying to pull him back to the present, to me.

“That’s why you and your mom don’t use any religious terms?”

“And why I didn’t feel much of anything when I found out he died.”

“But it all turned out all right in the end, didn’t it?”

Josh shrugged and then turned to face me. His blue eyes looked fearful when he met my concerned gaze. Was he afraid of what I might think? He had trusted me enough to share something so painful to him. I felt my heart open. I wanted to hold him and tell him everything would be all right. Before I could do that, he blinked and looked away, maybe remembering my original question about Marcie.

“I guess I let Marcie use me the way she did because I didn’t really care, and…” He swallowed and blushed again. “And honestly, Heather, guys don’t often turn down no-strings-attached sex.”

He cleared his throat, as if embarrassed. But at least he was being honest, I had to give him credit for that.

“But listen, that’s who I
was
. I didn’t have much to care about until I met you. Shit, that sounds like lame romantic bullshit. What I mean is, when I started to care for you, and you for me… Well, just knowing you cared for me helped me to care more for myself. Does that make sense?”