Julie wasn’t always so excited to hop onto Eoghan’s motorcycle. Check out the first time she gives it a try in this exclusive excerpt.
“We’re going on a motorcycle?” I ask Eoghan.
“Motorbike, yeah. Is that a problem?”
“Um, yes. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before and I have no intentions to.”
His eyes meet mine and he doesn’t look away, not even for a second. Not even to blink. “Don’t you trust me?”
His words are heavy and I have to search for a reply. “It’s not about trust, it’s just—”
“You trusted me enough to drive you yesterday and the day before that,” he states, like a licensed taxi driver is completely the same as a dark, handsome stranger on a motorcycle. Excuse me, motorbike.
“Eoghan,” I start, but I can’t figure out how to get out of this.
“What?” he replies, and smiles a smile that is somehow both charming and ornery. He likes to press my buttons, and my buttons are most definitely pressed.
“I can’t ride on the back of a motorcycle. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“So, you’re a snob?”
“I’m not a snob!” I protest but it’s shallow, because it does really have a snobby sound to it. “Okay, I’m a little bit of snob.”
He laughs at me. The bastard. “Juliana—”
I go on. “It’s just not how I pictured this happening.”
“Do you want a ride or not? If not, I’ll phone a taxi for you.” All of Eoghan’s adorable charm has gone.
I look down at the helmet in his hand. Ireland on the back of bike? Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
“What about my camera? This thing is my baby.”
A slight smile returns to his lips. “I’ve noticed. You can put it in the saddlebag.”
We stare at one another while I debate it. On one side, I consider telling Eoghan to hit the road, and then reschedule my appointments to a time when Brigid or even Aiden can take me in a real car, a BMW even, to each place. Either of them could provide the same level of insight that Eoghan could. It’s such a tempting alternative, mostly because it eases my fears about crashing and dying.
However, the flip side sure shines brightly when I examine it. Examine him. He’s looking right at me with smoldering eyes and unwavering determination on his face to get me on the back of his bike. I want to give him this and I want to give myself this experience.
When my mind and my heart aren’t exactly seeing eye-to-eye on this, my mind usually prevails. It’s what’s led to a lot of my success, like when I decided not to pursue a Fine Arts degree in photography and focus on Information Systems instead. Sure enough, I landed a good-paying job at CloudSoft right out of college. It may not be my passion, but it was a smart choice.
Somehow, though, my logic has lapsed in this moment and I can’t quite make the argument to walk away from Eoghan and his motorcycle.
Somehow, today, my heart wins.
“Fine,” I whine, and his lips twitch into a crooked smile. Without asking permission, he takes a step closer to me and sweeps my hair back over my shoulders, then puts the helmet on my head and buckles the strap. “Is this really happening?”
“It is. You’ll love it.”
“Promise?”
“I would never lie to you, Juliana,” he says without a drop of humor or sarcasm in his voice. I think he might mean it.
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