"A good thing you came out here to find me," I said with a raised brow. "Too many chances of being seen while you try to murder me."
"I can always wait."
"True. Speaking of finding me, how did you know I'd pulled up?"
"Because I knew you weren't going to show up in a car like a normal person, so I was listening for a bike. And I knew you wouldn't come right inside, and would be out here for a minute or two longer than usual."
My eyes flicked up to the sign before returning to her scowling face. "And what would make you think that?"
"Boy, I can't imagine."
"Neither can I."
"Really? There isn't one thing that you can think of off the top of that thick head of yours that might have grabbed your attention?"
"Mmm, nope."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "This is me you're talking to, Mason. Not anyone else. If you think I can’t see that storm cloud over your head right now, then you must have bumped your head pretty hard."
"Now, what would make you think I'd bumped my head? I'm a damn good driver."
"A good one, but a risky one," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But am I supposed to pretend like you don't have scratches on your bike, your helmet, or torn clothes? What were you doing on the way here?"
"Driving."
"You look like a mess."
At that, I turned to look in one of the bike's mirrors. Hazel eyes gazed back at me as I looked myself over and didn't see much that was off. Still the same eyes that were slightly tilted up at the corners and deep-set enough to give me a perpetually sleep-exhausted look that got worse when I was actually sleep deprived. A slightly wide jaw and narrow chin littered with faint stubble, the color so fine it could only be seen if you were close. My hair, admittedly, in cold months, faded to a blond that could be mistaken for early gray but would brighten to a more recognizable blond the more sun I saw.
"Looks like me," I said, tilting the mirror around.
"Try this," she said, grabbing the mirror and tilting it down to show the angry scratches on my neck.
"Ah," I said, reaching to touch them with what I hoped was a thoughtful look on my face. "Well, that's new. I must have done it while I was riding. You know things fly all over the place when you're on a bike. It could have happened any time."
"Looks awfully fresh."
"And could have been recent. You know I don't notice little ouchies like that."
"Or, you were doing something you weren't supposed to."
"Now, why would I do that?"
"Because you're you. You've always been that way."
I gasped. "Moira! That's mean!"
"And accurate."
"What would be accurate would be to point out that you were usually at my side, getting into just as much trouble."
"I was young and didn't know better. It took me a while to learn that charming men with wild ideas is just another name for bad boys who will get you deep in shit."
"Funny, when did you learn that again? Because I remember a couple of your exes?—"
At that, her scowl flickered before finally breaking with a sigh. "Well, maybe it took me longer than I'd like. But I've learned. UnlikesomeoneI know."
"I've learned plenty."
