This story is a work of fan fiction - specifically, Smussell. Some characters are based on real people. No knowledge of the real life, thoughts or actions of such is assumed, and no disrespect is intended. The authors do not financially benefit from sharing this work, however they retain full copyright. Please do not copy, share or publish, in whole or in part without the express permission of the authors.

 

 

CHAPTER ONE - AUSTIN HARLEY 
Springtime

RUSSELL: [I'm in town for a few days, sort of just passing through with a rare opportunity to lay low and have some fun, so I do what I always do - stop into Austin Harley and pick up my Fat Boy.]

RUSSELL: [Having called ahead, my baby is there waiting for me fueled and polished and ready to go. Mark is with me, of course, checking out the new line of bike boots over in the corner while I do a bit of paperwork and shoot the shit with Mike, who always takes real good care of us.]

RUSSELL: [The weather in Austin is good, and I'm in casual ready-to-go form, loose jeans, belt, boots, a plain white T and a black button up that's faded to the point where it's starting to look purple. I'm in fallow mode - hair long, beard fully grown in, my shades currently pushed up to hold back the curls that constantly seek to flop into my eyes.]

MIKE: Yeah, see now, if I was you... I'd ride right on up to that red carpet on my Fat Boy! (He laughs heartily.) Leave it parked right out front by the curb.

RUSSELL: (I chuckle, picturing this.) Y'may be onto something there, mate.

KIRSTEN: [My sis, Sofie, has been trying to get me to buy a motorcycle. She thinks it would be good for me to get out more, and the Harley would be a way for us to ride together on weekends. She's a speed-junkie, drives an '85 Porsche, works as an instructor at a race track on the weekends, and also has her own 750 Honda that she rides through the Texas Hill Country where she lives. Today, she's dragged me to the Austin Harley dealership "just to look."]

KIRSTEN: [I feel like an idiot walking in with her. I have a motorcycle endorsement on my drivers license, but haven't really ridden much. The dealership smells of fresh rubber and it's dark when we step in. All black leather, chrome, and the unmistakable sense of testosterone.]

MIKE: ... Sure, it's all about the attitude...

RUSSELL: [Mike's face pulls into a smile, eyes hooked on something over my shoulder. Naturally, I turn to look, as ya would.]

KIRSTEN: [I blink a few times to adjust to the light, then drift towards the rack of clothes where I feel more at home.]

SOFIE: (She grabs my jacket, pulling me back towards the bikes.) Oh no you don't! We didn't come here to look at clothes!

RUSSELL: [My eyes, like Mike's drift over to linger on two stray females, one who looks entirely at home, the other has eyes which cut shyly around the showroom floor like she feels unqualified to actually look at the bikes on display.]

KIRSTEN: Ok. Maybe we can look at the little ones. The Sportsters.

RUSSELL: [I look at Mike. Mike looks at me. We both grin.]

SOFIE: Oh, come on! You could drive a big one. Don't just automatically assume because you're a woman that you can't handle a big bike!

KIRSTEN: [I sigh at her familiar refrain.]

KIRSTEN: I really just want to look at the Sportster. There's no way I am going to ride one of the monsters. 

[Mike moves out from behind the chest high counter at the back of the room. He's bald, about 5' 10", built solid like a brick shithouse. Colourful tats run down both forearms, visible under the rolled up sleeves of  his Lucky Lounge workshirt - which features a flaming 8-ball.]

RUSSELL: [I lean back on the counter, my eyes grinning as I watch Mike 'go to work.']

KIRSTEN: [I see a big, burly Harley guy come from behind the counter, looking like a biker stereotype come to life. Totally intimidating. I think, What the hell am I doing here?]

MIKE: Hello, ladies. Can I show you anything?

SOFIE: (with a suggestive smile) Well that all depends.

KIRSTEN: [I wince. Does she have to flirt with every man who looks her way?]

MIKE: (He arches a brow over a grin that's more social than professional, responding to her tone.) On what, darlin'?

SOFIE: (Hooking a thumb towards the darker woman, but keeping her eyes on Mike.) On her. She wants a bike! 

MIKE: (He nods and smiles, turning on his heel towards the brunette.) Okay. So, I've been talking to the wrong girl! 

[Mike turns his attention to the dark shy one,  then winks at the blonde to show he's playing.]

KIRSTEN: (I wrinkle my nose in embarrassment.) I'm just looking.

RUSSELL: [I watch him chat up the two women. The blonde isn't bad, very curvy, if you like them obvious. The darker haired one is the shy one, and she's the one who's caught my eye, with her shaggy mink coloured hair, high round cheeks and long legs... You might have to look twice, but she's worth it.]

RUSSELL: [She's dressed very appealingly, too. Hip-hugger jeans and a little cropped white ribbed T, with a long black leather jacket worn over, that show off a flat belly and what looks like, if I squint hard enough, a bellybutton ring.]

RUSSELL: [I watch Mike try to work his best magic on several levels, the mainstay of his flirting going to the blonde, while trying to sell the darker one on the finer aspects of owning a Harley.]

SOFIE: She says she's only looking, but now that she's single, she really needs one.

MIKE: ... Well, what you might want to do is consider a short term rental, try out a few different models? See what you like?

SOFIE: Hey, Kirsten, that sounds like a good idea! Just rent one. Don't buy until you're sure! Too bad you didn't hear that about ten years ago!

KIRSTEN: [I shake my head, rolling my eyes. I love my sister, but you can see her coming a mile off.]

MIKE: (He slants a grin to the blonde.) What about you, darlin'? What do you ride?

SOFIE: (Her chin lifts proudly with the confidence that comes from long practice juggling men and their attentions.) Anything that's big enough, fast enough, and can handle me.

MIKE: (He looks at the blonde, working to hold back a grin.) Well, remind me to make sure you have my card on the way out.

RUSSELL: [Mark spares a look my way, sees I'm doing fine, follows my gaze to the two women and moves deeper into the racks of jackets, grinning and shaking his head.]

SOFIE: (smirking at me) So, Kirs, do you want to take one out for a spin?

KIRSTEN: I'd rather you drove, Sof, I don't feel like I could drive one myself yet.

SOFIE: Okay. 

SOFIE: (Her eye catches on a flash outside the tinted plate glass windows) Hey, look at that sweet Fat Boy out front. The blue one. Next to the black SUV.

KIRSTEN: (My brows lift over an interested look.) S'nice. I like the blue paint job. But... it's so big.

SOFIE: Well, do you want to try it? 

RUSSELL: [I'm listening intently now. I like the darker one's shy grin. She reminds me of someone, a younger Annette Bening. Cute as a biccie.]

MIKE: Actually -

RUSSELL: [I push off the counter and amble over, closing the short distance to the floor just in time to jump in.]

RUSSELL: (A grin tugs at my lips.) Actually, that one's mine.

KIRSTEN: [My eyes go wide and I look around to see whose face this deep Antipodean accented voice is coming from. But I don't really have to look. That gravelly, masculine, testosterone-laden voice is unmistakable.]

RUSSELL: But. (I flash a grin to the cute one.) I'd be happy to take you for a ride, um -?

RUSSELL: [I shoot out my big hand to shake the woman's small fine one, grinning as I wait for a name.]

KIRSTEN: (Somehow, I find my voice.) Kirsten.

RUSELL: [Mike turns and grins at me, I can see him thinking ...Smooth.]

KIRSTEN: (Before I have a chance to change my mind, or to think at all, I reply.)... And I'd love to.

RUSSELL: Yeh? (I chuckle, shaking your hand.) Great!

KIRSTEN: [Your handshake is firm, but gentle at the same time. I look up at you from under my lashes, gazing at your dancing blue-green eyes, your golden-chestnut hair falling in long curls around your face, your friendly, open grin. In only a second or two I notice every detail about you: the tanned, outdoorsman look of your skin, your strong, masculine nose, and a certain tiredness showing around your eyes. I see your familiar moles partially hidden by your beard, a slight yellowish tinge to your front teeth from smoking, and your perfect lips curling away from your teeth to smile invitingly at me. Your beard is untrimmed with a couple weeks' grizzly growth on your neck. I note the absolute perfection of how everything fits together, your tiny flaws only adding to your masculine appeal. I become aware of your masculine aroma, a manly smell of soap and shampoo and fresh tobacco mixing in with the shop's smells of leather and rubber.]

RUSSELL: I'm Russell, by the way... Nice t' meetcha.

KIRSTEN: [Your introduction seems charming. I know who you are, you could even say I'm a fan. I've seen just about every movie you've made, but I'm not about to admit it. I want you to see me as a woman, not a fan.]

KIRSTEN: [I don't dare look at Sofie, but I know she's gaping at me. Instead I focus on you, on that wide playful sparkling smile, and all the sensations I'm feeling, being so close to you. Surprisingly, I find I am not nervous. There is something soothing about you. Your hand on mine is reassuring, gentling. ]

KIRSTEN: (grinning) Nice to meet you, too!

RUSSELL: [I press your hand before letting go and turning to the blonde.]

RUSSELL: You gonna let me take her out for a spin?

RUSSELL: [My eyes twinkle teasingly.]

SOFIE: Be my guest! (Smirking in a sisterly way.) ... But she's a 'fraidy cat, don't go too fast.

KIRSTEN: (I'm scowling at Sofie for giving me away, temporarily distracted by her embarrassing comments.) I am not! 

RUSSELL: (I chuckle and shake my head, my grin widening.) Now, now, ladies.

KIRSTEN: (I shake my head conspiratorially at you, rolling my eyes.) Sisters!

RUSSELL: Ahh. Gotcha. (I give a wise nod.) 

RUSSELL: [Your dark eyes, large and pretty, framed by long lashes seem brimming with life. In the split second that I meet your gaze I see intelligence and warmth, wonder, pain and joy... so many secrets, all begging to be discovered.]

RUSSELL:  So, um, Kirsten? What's the plan, luv? You have a few spare moments now, or..?

KIRSTEN: (I'm wondering if you can really pull this off, what with your handler nearby and a high profile complex life.) Sure, if you do.

RUSSELL: [I glance back at Mark, he's trying on jackets, distracted. I could probably sneak out before he notices.]

RUSSELL: No time like the present then. (I shoot you a winking grin and nod towards the doors.) Shall we?

KIRSTEN: (I shake my hair out, feeling wild, brave and carefree.) Let's go, then! 

RUSSELL: (I flash Mike a wicked grin.) Keep an eye on Mark, mate, willya? 

MIKE: (He chuckles at me.) Sure. 

KIRSTEN: Sof, wait for me, okay? Won't be long. I have my cell.

SOFIE: Ok, Kirsten. Call me...(There is a clear snicker hiding in her grin.) .... if you get delayed or something!

RUSSELL: Reckon about 15 minutes or thereabouts? (I smile at you.) ... That oughta give you a fair idea if you like my ride.

RUSSELL: [I try to lick back my grin. No matter what I say, everything sounds like a line.]

KIRSTEN: (I can't help smiling at the implication, and matching it with one of my own.) 15 minutes should be plenty. For starters.

RUSSELL: Let's boogie then! 

RUSSELL: [I grin and put my hand on your back, guiding you out of the showroom before Mark can catch us and interfere.]

KIRSTEN: [I feel the light pressure of your hand on my back. It feels good, right. Protective somehow.]

KIRSTEN: [The late afternoon Texas sunlight is blinding as we step out of the showroom. Your bike gleams blue metallic in the sun. It's just hot enough that I can see heat waves coming off the tank. The word "Honey" is airbrushed across the top in an arc, under the gas cap, in fancy gold italics.]

RUSSELL: [Outside, I dig the keys Mike just handed over out of my front jeans pocket and throw a leg over, straddling the low slung bike.]

KIRSTEN: [I can't wait to put my arms around you. But I'm going to play it cool, just like you are. You're acting, not like some prize winning actor/sex symbol but like, well... anyone.]

RUSSELL: [I balance her, making little checks and adjustments while I wait for you to climb on behind me. Ahhhh, lord, but it feels good to be back in the saddle again.]

KIRSTEN: [I don't bother stepping on the peg; I don't need it with my long legs. I just swing my right leg over the seat and sit down lightly, hoisting my feet onto the pegs and putting my hands demurely on your sides. My fingers find a slight softness there, where your flesh meets the top of your jeans. I work to hide a smile. Your love of good food, especially beer and Texas barbecue is a part of your legend, and the extra softness just makes me want to cuddle you.]

RUSSELL: [I slide my sunnies down, settling them onto my nose, then look back at you over my shoulder. I can't seem to shake my grin.]

RUSSELL: Y' comfy back there?

KIRSTEN: [I smile back with a toothy grin, I can't help it. You're gorgeous. You're altogether too much man in one package. And here I am, my legs around you, my crotch up against your ass. Your legs feel warm between mine, solid, muscular. I can't quite believe my luck.]

KIRSTEN: Oh yeah. Can't wait to get out on the open road, Russell. 

RUSSELL: (My smile doesn't falter a beat.) Done this before then? You're not gonna fall off, right?

KIRSTEN: (I laugh and shake my head.) Not a chance.

RUSSELL: [My eyes narrow curiously on you for a moment from behind my dark glasses, sizing you up. You got on with confidence, your balance is good, and from what I overheard inside, you should know what you're doing. I decide to take you at your word, take a chance, and besides, I'm in a hurry to get going before this window of opportunity closes and Mark comes out to put a stop to my fun.]

RUSSELL: [I nod then my smile presses deeper, showing lots of teeth, the wild grin of a speed demon about to be set loose.]

RUSSELL: Allllriiiiiiiiighty then!

RUSSELL: (I can't help giggling just a little as I turn her over, shouting over the engine's throaty roar.) Hang on!

KIRSTEN: [My thumbs automatically hook through the beltloops of your jeans. As the pistons roar to life, a thrill runs through me. Is there anything as fine as a Harley? Anything as fine as the rumbling sound of its powerful 80 cubic inch  V-twin engine?]

KIRSTEN: [Even the name has mystique: Harley. It shares a beginning with "harsh", "hard", "heart." All powerful words.]

KIRSTEN: [Your back seems massive, like everything about the Harley. Strong and solidly built. I look at the nape of your neck. Your long hair curls down and covers most of it, but I can see a patch or two of sunburnt skin peeking through. The wind must have lifted your hair and allowed the sun onto it.]

KIRSTEN: [My legs are spread wide to accommodate your body. It feels incredibly intimate, yet we are fully clothed and merely taking a bike ride.]

RUSSELL: [I wheel us down off the low curb, thrilling at the engine throbbing between my legs. Excited, too, by the feel of your hands holding onto my hips.]

KIRSTEN: [I feel you walking the bike, able to handle its heavy weight and balance me at the same time. I concentrate on keeping centered on the bike to make it easier on you.]

RUSSELL: [I ride us through the carpark, past the long line at the fragrant fast food drive through, smelling of grease and chicken and chips, heading us out into the light traffic on South Congress, then onto the highway heading away from the city, out towards the Hill Country.]

RUSSELL: [I feel you move with the natural lean of the bike as we take the first few turns. Clearly you know what you're doing, and that gives me the confidence I need. As soon as we're out onto the highway, I start to open it up, picking up speed.]

KIRSTEN: [As our speed increases, the wind resistance gets stronger. I hunker down behind your big back so you'll block much of the wind. We hit the Hill Country and the temperature drops noticeably, so I wind my arms around your waist and grab my wrist.]

RUSSELL: (I can't hold back the happy shout, it feels ripped from my throat as the speedometer climbs.) Whoooooohooooo!

KIRSTEN: [I know your joy and I feel it too. I laugh out loud, a gut laugh that bubbles up from my belly and ends in a gurgle.]

RUSSELL: [The wind is whipping my hair around my ears, it fills my happy grin as we blow down the road. I'm free. Free of responsibilities, free of appointments and minders and every minute being watched.... I hear you laugh and the sound rolls through me before the wind whips it away.]

KIRSTEN: [I snuggle closer to you to stay warm, close my eyes and put my cheek against your back. I trust your piloting. You know what you're doing, and I can relax and just enjoy the sensation of, well, flight. It truly feels like flying.]

RUSSELL: [I feel you pressed up against me, holding on just right. Your legs rest against mine, warming my thighs. With your long arms wrapped around me, I can feel the soft twin press of your breasts against my back through your open jacket and the heat of your body against mine.]

RUSSELL: [Your embrace feels good, snug and cozy. It reminds me of spooning in a bed, and that coupled with the vibrating thrum of the bike between my legs gets me to thinking about just how long it's been since I was in bed with a woman. The answer being, quite simply, too long.]

KIRSTEN: [I take in a big noseful of your scent. Your clothes smell as if you've worn them for awhile, but not in a bad way. They are infused with your personal scent and the smell of sun and sweat. I try to memorize it, memorize what you feel like, with my breasts pressed against you, and the feel of your back muscles making small adjustments as you control the bike on the road.]

RUSSELL: (I tilt my chin to my shoulder, shouting a little over the wind.) How ya doin', luv?

KIRSTEN: (enthusiastically) Just great! Wish it could go on forever! 

RUSSELL: [I smile at that, knowing that longing very well. I'm glad that you're enjoying yourself, happy to share this with you.]

RUSSELL:  [I speed up to pass a truck, reaching my hand back to steady your leg against mine as the tail-wind rocks us a little before we pass. The feeling of having you behind me is both intimate and cozy, and although I barely know you, having you in my care this way has me feeling protective.]

RUSSELL: [I can feel my mobile buzzing where I stuck it in my jeans pocket, but there isn't a chance in hell I'm going to pull over and answer it.]

KIRSTEN: [I open my mouth slightly and rest my teeth on your back. I could gently nibble on you, if only I dared.]

RUSSELL: [My grin presses wider as the last few cars fall away behind us. The wind pushes its way inside my overshirt, but after a morning spent in the stale air of a jet, heading here between stops on a junket, even the chill is welcome.]

KIRSTEN: [I feel your speed pick up and peek over your shoulder at the speedo to see how fast you're going. The Fat Boy's gauge reads 80 mph. The four lane road we're on is pretty straight out here, but it's hilly and on a bike, 80 is very, very fast. It feels like we could lift off the road and take off.]

KIRSTEN: [I say nothing, putting my trust in you and in your bike.]

RUSSELL: [A quick glance to the oversized Panerai on my wrist tells me we've been gone a while, and, as much as I'm in no hurry to return to reality, I don't know how long I can keep you with out getting us both in trouble. Especially considering the fact that we've both got people waiting for us back at the dealership. With that thought in mind, I pull reluctantly over to the side and balance the bike on the soles of my boots, turning to look at you, as I push up my sunglasses to meet your eyes.]

KIRSTEN: [I smile encouragingly as you turn around.]

RUSSELL: (My grin is a little wincing) I hate to cut this short? But I'm thinkin' I oughta head us back.

KIRSTEN: (With a rueful grin.) I know. It was a great ride anyway. You really know how to handle her.

RUSSELL: (My grin spreads slow and sweet like honey.) Thanks.

KIRSTEN: (winking) You're welcome. And...you almost have me convinced to buy one.

RUSSELL: Yeh? (chuckling) I'll tell Michael to cut me a slice of his commission.

KIRSTEN: (laughing) Y'all can arrange that, I'll stay out of it!

RUSSELL: [I start to turn around to head us back, debating with myself, my head bobbing a little as I go back and forth, like I'm listening to the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other.]

RUSSELL: (Having decided, I twist around on the seat to look at you again, and though they peek up at you from under the shelter of my long lashes, my eyes are sparkling.) Can I ask you something, Kirsten?

KIRSTEN: (My expression is expansive, open.) Sure. What, Russell? 

RUSSELL: [Dimples keep threatening to appear on either side of my lips as I fight my grin.]

RUSSELL: What your sister said back there to Mike? About you being single?...S'that true?

KIRSTEN: (I wince a little. It's still painful.) Umm... yes. It's ... recent.

RUSSELL: (My eyes wince sympathetically, but my smile just keeps trying to break through.) Well, uh... I know it's fuckin' mad? But I was thinkin' maybe I could look you up again sometime.

KIRSTEN: [Thinking, right, in a million years he'll call. No risk here. He's just being nice.]

KIRSTEN: (lightly) Sure, are you thinking about another ride or something?

RUSSELL: (Now that it's out there, my mouth starts running away with me.) I dunno, y'know, like we could have a drink or a meal, or ah... maybe some Barbecue or, yeh, a ride, or uhm...

RUSSELL: [I stop. I think I just heard you say yes.]

KIRSTEN: [Wow. You're sounding like any guy now, kind of stumbling around. It's endearing.] 

KIRSTEN: Ahhh... sure... any of the above would work.

RUSSELL: [My grin breaks free, blossoming across my cheeks, which are glowing from the ride. Glowing even more from your answer.]

RUSSELL: Cool. So, I could get your number or something back at the shop?

KIRSTEN: (I grin at you.) I have a better idea. Why don't I give it to you now, so we can keep 'em guessing back at the shop.

RUSSELL: (I chuckle. You're a smart one. I'm liking you more and more by the minute.) Sure. Sounds like a plan. 

RUSSELL: [I pat down the front of my shirt. This is a fine time to be caught without a sharpie.] 

RUSSELL: Y'got a pen on ya?

KIRSTEN: [I pull my purse onto my lap and fumble for a piece of paper. All I can find is a deposit slip stub, which has my full address on it. I write my cell on it and hand it to you.]

RUSSELL: [I look at the paper in your hand.]

RUSSELL: Do you have a computer? I'd hate to call at a, um... an inopportune time, y'know?

KIRSTEN: Yep, I have a computer. Let me write my email on there. 

RUSSELL: Great, cool. (I nod happily.)

KIRSTEN: [I take the paper from you like giving my phone number to men is something I do every day, when in fact I've only been single again for a grand total of four weeks. I write my email address on it and notice my hand isn't shaking too badly.]

RUSSELL: [I take the paper from you, reading it over before my eyes flick a grin back at you as I pocket it.]

RUSSELL: Right! Well. Let's get this show back on the road, shall we?

KIRSTEN: (smiling) I'm game! Let's roll! 

RUSSELL: [I grin back at you, then scope over your shoulder at the oncoming lanes. There's a semi coming, but its a long ways off, plenty of time. I turn us back around the way we came, sorry to be ending the ride, but my heart light with thoughts of looking you up again.]

KIRSTEN: [This time, I wrap my arms around you without hesitation, cheek to your back, my eyes closed, trusting you implicitly to keep us both safe.]

RUSSELL: [I grin as I feel you settle in behind me again, my face turned up towards the sky as if to say.... A good bike, a beautiful woman and my freedom... what more could a man need?]

RUSSELL: [The ride back seems all too short, half the time it took us to get out there. Before I know it, though, it's dusk and we're pulling into the shopping centre lot. Mike is out front, leaning on a cement column, smoking a cigarette, talking to the blonde, smiling....]

RUSSELL: [... Mark, however, is not in as fair a mood. He's leaning against the side of the SUV, fuming as he barks into his mobile, his eyes darkening with a scowl as we pull up.]

KIRSTEN: [I see a look of awe in Sofie's eyes but force myself to look cool and calm as I hop off the bike. I'm a little rubber-legged from the vibration of the ride.]

RUSSELL: [Mark slaps his phone closed and takes a step forward, his wide round face pulling hard, but I catch his eye and stop him with a little shake of the head.]

KIRSTEN: [I wait patiently, watching you deal with your complicated life.]

RUSSELL: (I turn to you, smiling, the bike still idling.) Kirsten? Been a pleasure.

KIRSTEN: [I raise a hand as if to say, it's nothing, with a crooked smile raising the corner of my mouth. Wondering if you'll ever call that number...or email that addy I gave you.]

RUSSELL: [I see Mike working to hide a grin. He's been here listening to Mark have a melt down for the past 40 odd, but isn't bothered. It's all in a day's work.]

RUSSELL: (I flip him a grin.) Mike? See you tonight?

MIKE: (He grins.) Wouldn't miss a chance to tear up the local streets now, would I?

SOFIE: (She can't wait and starts pushing me to make up my mind) So, are you going to buy yourself a  Fat Boy?

RUSSELL: [I hear her and look back at you with a brow arched high, listening for your reply.] 

KIRSTEN: (I shoot her a look of, Not now! Please!) Haven't decided yet. I might need another few rides to make up my mind.

RUSSELL: Good luck, luv. (I shoot you a sparkling wink.)

KIRSTEN: (I smirk at our shared secret) Thanks, Russell. Drive safe!

KIRSTEN: [I turn to get into Sofie's red Porsche, swinging into the low seat.]

RUSSELL: [I give a little wave, watching you go, enjoying the smooth play of your long legs as you move, then managing to sneak a peek at your ass as you get into the low riding sportscar.]

KIRSTEN: [As I start to buckle the racing harness, I realize I probably just gave you a good view of my thong when I got in. I turn red and look at you,  sure you can read my thoughts.]

RUSSELL: (I'm still grinning as I tear my eyes away to  look over at my scowling red-faced minder.) Markus! Let's go grab some tucker before we ride tonight, whaddya say?

MARK: (mumbling through his teeth) Irresponsible fucking cunt. (He nods cheerfully) Tacos or barbecue?

KIRSTEN: (I turn to Sofie.) Let's get going, for God's sake! 

RUSSELL: [Mike leans, hanging off the post, waving to Sofie, miming for her to call him.]

SOFIE: (Merrily rolling down the window and waving.) Talk to ya soon, Mike! 

KIRSTEN: (I hunker down in the seat.) C'mon, Sof, let's make a smooth exit for once!

RUSSELL: [Mike waves happily, then not wanting to appear too eager, ambles over to where Mark and I are planning where to have dinner.]

KIRSTEN: [Sofie slams it into gear and roars away, showing off her driving skills.]

RUSSELL: [I hear the Porsche's engine roar, impressed with her smooth handling and noting the make, always in the market for a new toy, then wave once more as you pull away.]

KIRSTEN: [I don't look back, afraid you might not be watching me go. I think about what just happened, and wonder if I'll ever hear from you again. Sofie just looks at me and grins as if to say, Unbelievable. But she's the kind of person who believes in magic, and so when something like this happens, it doesn't even faze her. I think I'm beginning to believe, too.]

 

 

CHAPTER TWO - EMAIL

[An email - four days after meeting in Austin...]

 

 

[The reply posts the next day...]

 

 

[The reply posts later that evening....]

 

 

[In with the emails the following morning....]

 

 

[A few days later....]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Part Two

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