That Blue Gibson

CH 64

Liz felt herself getting sleepy. Between the cool air and the warmth of Dave's back, she realized she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in days. Maybe a private jet was just what she needed. She could curl up in a chair and sleep the entire flight, which would solve the issue of being Johnny's captive audience as well. She rolled her eyes at the thought of having to sit through him strumming that acoustic guitar for the next ten hours, asking for her technical input on transitions and bridges. If Dave offered to lock her up in his basement again she wasn't sure she'd turn him down, joking or not. 

She lifted her head to look over his shoulder at Ventura Blvd, pressing her lips into his shoulder blade. His hand came back again to her thigh and she smiled, surprised at how giddy it made her feel. She had seen her friends use that unspoken language with their girlfriends and always thought it was asinine. If you really want to talk, get two-way helmets or better yet, teach your girl to ride and let her buy her own damn bike. But now she understood. He was asking if she was all right by the pressure in his grip and telling her that he loved her with the way he dragged his thumb along the seam of her jeans. 

She was actually enjoying riding bitch. Maybe... maybe she shouldn't call it that anymore. Pops had always called it The Queen's Seat when her Grandma rode along, so why the hell couldn't she call it that too? She frowned, thinking Pop's little lessons were proving themselves to be more and more ill-suited to her new life. She was sure his intentions were good and from a place of love, he was only trying to prepare his defiant, almost feral granddaughter for the rough and tumble world she insisted on being a part of, but she had fallen into a place where she didn't need to be on guard all the time. However, giving up that control was something she had always refused to do and it would be hard to learn differently. She saw it as an admission of weakness, a total collapse of the self-reliance that she had worked so hard to build and maintain over the years. 

She wondered what Kyle would think if he saw her on the back of Dave's bike. On the back of any bike, really. Their entire relationship had been a power struggle. Kyle had wanted to be the quintessential alpha male with a beautiful, pregnant and obedient wife that just happened to be part of an essential American biker family. A trophy to hold up when his shortcomings let him down. But Liz just couldn't follow his rules anymore. She couldn't sit around and pretend like their marriage was fine, she couldn't set an example of passive obedience for her boys. The pressure to perform just wasn't there with Dave. She didn't feel the need to assert her independence or to prove that she could do something on her own and she almost didn't know what to do with herself now. His hand left her thigh and she felt herself smile against his shoulder, replying to his touch in her mind.

I'm perfectly fine and in love with you too.

*

Dave sped the bike past the tall gate and onto the private runway, stopping a few feet from where Andy stood waiting at the small plane's steps. Liz noticed the shock on his face and discreetly shook her head at him. Yes, I'm riding bitch, but don't bring it up. Not now.

"You're early," he said, taking Liz's bag from her. "Even the flight attendants aren't due for another half hour."

"Great," Liz muttered, eyeing the gleaming white plane.

"Go check it out. It's pretty kick ass in there."

She waited for Dave to join her, then climbed the carpeted steps to the open cabin door. "This is almost obscene," Liz grumbled, running her hand down the back of a buttery soft leather chair.

"It's really hard to go back to commercial after these," Dave warned and set his hands on her shoulders.

"But for two people? It's just..."