motorcycle man 💕😍

motorcycle man takes his girl

Chapter Two

Me and Ethan have been talking for a while now. The texts we exchange are increasingly flirtatious, and I can’t help but feel the weight of the guilt that follows me around every second I’m with my boyfriend. I hide everything from him—every word, every detail. I’ve even told Ethan about how abusive my boyfriend can be, the things he says when he's angry, how it makes me feel small.

Ethan's response was immediate, direct, and oddly comforting: “Yeah, because he’s not a real man, baby.” His words are still burned in my mind, a stark contrast to the ones I hear from my boyfriend. Ethan doesn’t just listen, he gets it.

But even though he’s kind and understanding, and even though it feels like we’ve formed a bond, Ethan isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just a guy I talk to over text—someone who happens to be in a band, who’s always on the go, and who’s beautifully possessive in a way that makes my heart race.

I know I shouldn’t get too attached. But I do. Every time he goes silent, sometimes for a week or more, I feel this emptiness settle in my chest. I never spam him with messages or demand his attention, but I can’t help how I feel. I miss him. I crave the way his words make me feel like I’m the only one he thinks about.

Ethan’s always so busy—his band, his truck driving—it’s like he’s living a life I can’t reach, a world that’s so far from mine. Sometimes, when he’s gone for days, it’s like I’m floating, waiting for him to pull me back. But I won’t chase him. I won’t beg for his attention. I want him to want me.

And yet, I know something about this isn’t right. My boyfriend is a constant presence in my life, even though he barely sees me for who I am. But with Ethan, it’s different. He makes me feel seen, valued in ways my boyfriend never has.

I need Ethan to come down, to see me face to face, but he’s always too caught up in his commitments. And maybe that’s just as well—maybe it’s safer this way. But a part of me aches for something more, for the chance to see if what we have can be real, not just a series of texts on a screen.

But then I remember—I’m not his girlfriend. And that makes it feel like it could all disappear at any moment.

Me and my boyfriend, John, are out today, and even though I’m walking beside him, all I can think about is Ethan. I hate that I’m this distracted, but when John’s around, he somehow pulls me back into reality, even if it’s only for a moment. I tell myself it’s fine, that I’m just thinking. But the truth? I’m head over heels for another guy. I know, I’m such a bad girl, I think, my stomach tightening with guilt. I should be happy with John, right? But I can’t ignore how much I crave the attention. The attention I get from men. Real men. Not like John, who hits me, who shouts obscenities at me when he’s angry. I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something more for Ethan.

John and I walk into the chemist. He’s been trying to quit smoking, so he’s picking up some special gum to help with it. I hold his hand as we walk in, and he cracks a joke that has me smiling. Typical John, always saying something to make me laugh. I hate myself for feeling like I’m pretending—like I’m putting on a mask, playing the happy girlfriend, when inside, I’m torn in a hundred different ways. But John’s here, and he’s trying, so I go along with it. I smile, let myself feel the warmth of his hand in mine.

We head to the counter to pay for John’s stuff, and that’s when I see him.

A man, standing faced forward, dressed head-to-toe in leather. His long hair falls in waves all the way down to his back, and his black boots are the definition of stylish. I can’t help but admire them, how they shine under the store lights, how they match the edge to his look. I pull my gaze away and focus on John again, but then we get closer—and I realize—Holy shit, it’s Ethan.