Motorcycle Girl: Book Two

Chapter 30: Seatbelt

Nathan

I thought sending Odeletta to Chicago was a bad idea.

She was fragile. She was scared of everything after what Jacob did to her. She told me she didn't feel safe in New York, and I didn't blame her. How could I?

When I met her, she was ruthless. Leather skinned. Nothing bothered her.

After Jacob did what he did...I've seen her cry more times in the past four months than I have in the three years I've known her put together.

I was terrified I would never see the ruthless girl I fell in love with again. I'd be fine if I didn't.

But right now, the girl that drove off on a motorcycle a mere month ago seems to be different.

She's smiling more, that's for sure. Her reactions to questions and situations are different.

She usually hesitated in New York to go out places, but she was the one to suggest that we go to the mall earlier. She was the one to suggest that we go to the bar after the mall.

We drove Beast here because Gwen's car seats five and Beast seats seven. She was zipping in and out of traffic easily.

So now we're at the bar with Gwen and our roommates and we've all been sipping our drinks.

This bar is full of people though, but we got a table and we're all sitting around.

I feel lips press to my cheek and then the scent of really cheap perfume wafts up my nose.

Somebody kissed my right cheek.

Odette is on my left.

I stand up fast, my thighs hitting the table hard, knocking my drink over. It tips, spilling all over Odeletta's lap.

The girl standing there has large fake breasts, green eyes, and bleach blonde hair with her brown roots coming out of the top.

"What the fuck!" Odette snaps.

"I'm sorry!" I exclaim. "She just kissed my cheek!"

Expecting her to get upset and go to the bathroom to wipe down her jeans with Anna and Harper going with her, I hand her some napkins and start rubbing my cheek with my hand.

The girl seems completely sober as she reaches for the crotch of my jeans.

I dart out of her reach, moving between Odette and Gwen.

"Whoa." I put my hands up, darting between Gwen and Harper when the girl keeps moving towards me.

Odette slams her hands down on the table and stands up.

She hit the table so hard that people turn to look.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Odeletta hisses.

Her voice is low and deadly, but her hands are in fists. She has on black skinny jeans, steel toe combat boots, a white long sleeve shirt, and her black leather jacket. Her makeup is done to make her eyes dark and smoky, her brown eyes more striking. She's glaring so intimidatingly at the girl that the whole bar goes silent.

The girl turns around.

"I'm getting laid, sweetheart." She says, her voice sickly sweet.

Our table is watching, their eyebrows raised.

"Not with him." Odette says.

"Uh, yes, with him." The girl says. "And who are you to tell me not, Frenchie?"