Page 41 of Pining for Pierce
My fingers are shaking slightly and I take a moment to attach Harley’s helmet to the clip at the back of the bike. That’s never happened before, and I give myself a few seconds, taking a deep breath and telling myself to calm down. Then I pull on my helmet and fasten it with no trouble at all. Sitting on the bike, I feel a little more at ease, although I guess I have every right to be nervous. After all, she could turn around and the throw the flowers in my face. Or she could have gone out. I shake my head, leaning over the tank slightly. Why didn’t I think of that? The flowers could be lying on the doorstep unacknowledged.
Shit…
I guess there’s only one way to find out, though, and sitting here isn’t it.
I start the engine, pulling on my gloves, and tell myself it’s gonna be fine, before I set off.
I’ve made this journey so many times, but it’s never mattered as much as it does today, and maybe it’s for that reason that everything feels different. The sun seems brighter, the trees greener, and even the road a little smoother. It’s all in my head, I know, but I take heart from the positives, and smile to myself when I turn into her driveway, spotting Harley’s car outside the garage. At least she’s here. That’s something, and I pull up alongside her Honda, letting out a sigh.
I take off my helmet, locking it to the handlebars, and remove my gloves, putting them into my pockets before I unzip my jacket and slowly climb off the bike. It’s odd, but now I’m here, I’m in no rush. I may have wanted this moment more thananything, but I also want to savor it… every step, every word, every breath.
Walking around the house to the front door, I’m relieved to see there are no flowers on the doorstep. It’s nearly four-thirty, so they must have been delivered, mustn’t they?
What if they haven’t?
Harley’s gonna wonder what the hell I’m doing here, and I’m not sure how I’ll explain myself. I guess I’ll just have to tell her the truth… and hope she understands I meant well, and that even the best-laid plans can sometimes go wrong.
My hand is shaking again, and I clench my fist a couple of times before ringing the doorbell, waiting for her to answer.
“Who is it?” she calls from inside, and I smile.
“It’s me.”
“Pierce?”
“Of course.”
There’s a moment of silence and then the door opens and she peers through the gap, frowning at me.
“I was just gonna call you,” she says.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” She opens the door wider, so I can see she’s wearing jeans and a pale gray t-shirt, her hair braided behind her head, and her eyes filled with confusion. This isn’t the most auspicious start.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I just received some flowers. They’re from you… but I don’t understand the message on the card. It just says ‘sorry’. What’s that about, Pierce? Did you send them to make me feel better after what happened the other night?”
“No. I sent them because you told me to.”
Her frown deepens. “When?” she asks.
“Yesterday… in your office,” I say, leaning against the doorframe and looking down into her eyes. “I asked your advice,and you told me to send flowers, say sorry… be romantic. This is me trying my best to do just that.”
She steps back slightly, shaking her head. “But that doesn’t make sense. I told you to send flowers, and say sorry, and be romantic with the woman of your dreams.”
“Exactly.”
I smile down at her, tipping my head slightly and after a couple of seconds, her eyes widen and her mouth drops open.
“I—Is that me?” she whispers.
“Yes.” I nod my head, reaching out to cup her face as I move across the threshold. “It’s taken me a while to work it out, but yes. Hell, yes.”
“Me?” she says, sounding incredulous.
“Yeah… you.” I move closer still, so we’re almost touching and she has to tip her head back to look at me. “I’ve dated more women than I wanna think about…”
