Walking Contradiction

Chapter 4

Juliet

Slowly but surely, I started to understand what I've done. Holding tightly onto the stranger in front of me, I'm battling with wanting to create distance between us and also not wanting to fall off this death machine. My whole body was still, every muscle activated and on edge. It was some, little, comfort seeing how well he maneuvered around the run-down forest roads, that twisted unexpectantly. He even had the habit of resting his gloved hand over my tightly clasped palms around his torso every time we were just about to turn a sharp corner. As if to make sure I held on tight. The first touch came as a shock, but now I must admit, I waited for his fingers to press onto my palms.

Though, to say I was comfortable would be a bit excessive as I could feel every beat of my heart clear as day. Further, I wasn't one to be this touchy around almost anyone. A hug was alright now and this, holding onto someone for a prolonged amount of time, pressing myself onto them, it was new. Especially with someone like him, an older and extremely hot guy I've met just under an hour ago.

Come to think of it, I didn't even ask his name, what the hell have I gotten myself into? I watched every turn he took on his bike and kept an eye on the speed, fearing every time we slowed down. If he even dared to stop at anything but a red light, I'm jumping.

But as we finally made it out of the woods and onto the main road, I quickly recognized the street names and knew we weren't far away from the library, and eventually home. Still, I observed his every move carefully, I'm not an idiot. Even Ted Bundy was charming at first. No matter how angry I was at Mateo at the moment, it did still my worried mind that he had seen me take off with this masked rider. Someone I knew, knew of my disappearance, were it to happen.

Not wanting to accidentally fall into the trap of letting my mind trail away to Mateo, I turned my attention to my surroundings. The early summer nights made the winds not terribly cold; thankfully, as I didn't have that much clothing on. I hadn't really planned to be riding a motorbike for the first time in my life tonight. Honestly it was something I wasn't ever planning to do. But a lot didn't go as planned tonight...

Shit, here my mind goes.

I didn't plan to lose my best friend, or the protective image I had created of him in my head. Was I really so clueless to think he was as proud to be my friend as I was to be his? That he was ever the bit as considerate of my feelings as I was of his?

I want to push every memory, moment and feeling I've ever held for him out of my existence. Especially the ones I still hold. No reminders of us, no future of us, no us. I might sound dramatic but for someone that have spent their entire life around the literature world; with grand gestures, timeless speeches and unexpected twists and turns, this was what I knew. Never have I been hurt this deeply, would this feeling ever end or was I meant to carry this with me, forever?

Digging myself out of the endless mind-hole I had fallen into, I finally spotted the lit-up sign over the library. I almost feel the invisible string pulling me home, soon. We stopped next to it on the 15-minute parking space, and he leaned the bike to the side to rest on the kickstand. The moment I felt stable enough I didn't waste a second more before releasing him from my tight grip. I started to attempt to slide off the seat, trying to reach my tippytoe onto the pavement. I was taken aback as his left hand reached out for my knee, stopping any further movement from me. Not that he grabbed hard or anything, I just froze. My eyes glanced over at him from the protection of my visor, the dimmed glass not showing where they wandered. His touch left me as he hoped of the bike, walking to its rear.

Unexpectantly, he stood behind me and grabbed onto my waist firmly, picking me up and placing me onto the ground. I was shocked at how easily he maneuvered me; clearly, I wasn't the person people would describe as '100 pounds when wet'.

I turned to face him; well, more his chest. Although I was shorter than most, he was undoubtingly taller than most. Standing between him and the back of the motorcycle, I felt slightly cornered, especially as he stepped closer. I attempted to back up, to maybe keep whatever distance was left but not even half a step back, my lower back hit the cold steel stopping me in my track. Nothing about me screamed confident right not and it felt useless to try and hide the clear uncertainty of my every actions. I would surely stumble onto the pavement without the bike and his presence. Or perhaps I wouldn't be this flustered without him this close. Nevertheless, I doubt I could convince anyone I was fine at this moment. Never mind fine with being in my current position, foreign circumstances with a stranger. But fine overall, considering the day's events.

My helmet turned with my movements, now tilted up and carefully examining his every movement. Spying to the side of us, I could see people still out walking around dimly lit streets, enjoying the warm night and all it offered. I felt some reassurance that they could see me, hoping they would notice if he did something...untoward.

His hands reached out towards my helmet and before I could pull back, his fingers were already fiddling with the band under my chin, unclasping the strap that secured its placement. In a swift movement the helmet was off, no longer hiding the way I watched him. As his fingers left my skin, I let out a breath that had sat itself on my chest, waiting patiently to be released. Taking notice of how crazed my hair had become with dark curls falling all over my face, I instinctively reached up trying to tame it.

"Thank you for the ride," I slid to the side, taking a few steps so I was at the edge of the sidewalk. My eyes flicked to the alley next to the library which would lead me home. I wanted nothing more than to be at home right now, hopefully starting to forget this night ever happened. But was I just supposed to say goodbye?

He lifted his visor and revealed his pale green eyes, peering over me. Except they weren't just watching me, more like mapping me. Taking in every part of my frame, every inch exposed to him.

"No problem, Julie." As soon as the words left his mouth, I wanted to correct him. Mateo is the only one that had ever called me that and as of today, I never wanted to hear it again. But it wasn't like I was ever going to meet this man again. Besides, maybe it was good he had gotten my name wrong, after all, he's just a stranger. Although, just for my sake, I couldn't help but ask.

"What's your name?" I wanted to know it, I needed to.

"Amir steel," he said, his voice as heavy as what his name seems to represent. Why did I feel his tone indicated the name should ring some kind of bell. But inside my head it was dead quiet, no cling to detect. I nodded unsurely, to indicate I've registered it.

"You live here?" he asked, taking one of his hands off the helmet I had borrowed and pointed to the apartments next to the library.

"No, I live just... around," I answered, not that eager to share my personal details. My answer seemed unsatisfactory as his dark brows raised slightly at my short and reserved response. Can he really blame me?

"I thought we'd gotten passed the 'is he a killer or not' as we didn't end up wrapped around any tree," He joked, leaning slightly forward towards me. "Unless this is heaven perhaps?" I couldn't help but let out a soft laugh at his words, which seem to be exactly what he wanted telling from the crinkle around his eyes, indicating a wide grin.

"There, how could anyone want to make you anything but happy with a smile like that?" His rhetorical question stunned me slightly, not really knowing how to handle such open flattery. It was unusually genuine, at least I hope so. Though, after tonight's events I don't know how much I trust my own judgement anymore. He seemed kind, but was he really? I didn't need this confusion; I needed my bed and a freaking time machine to do this day over.

He seemed to be waiting for something as he stood next to his bike, furrowed brows searching for perhaps the disappeared smile. I started to take small steps moving back, indicating my departure.

"Again, thank you... Amir," and with that said, I took one last glance at the hauntingly handsome man in front of me, before I turned and ran in to the alley, through the hole in the broken fence and onto my home street, already spotting the familiar yellow porch light. He sure would haunt me, every thought and fantasy. Every written hero and savior in my books would undoubtably share his features in my mind.