Happy Ever After

Chapter 5

"Matthew, what are you doing here?" She called down, clearly surprised to see him not just under her balcony but in Paris.

"This is the second time you've run from me." He appeared relaxed as he stood with his hands in his pockets.

"I didn't run. I walked."

"Same difference."

"Not to me. Are you following me?"

"I plead the Fifth."

"How did you even know where I was?"

"Come down, pretty Alana and I'll answer all your questions."

Alana looked down at Matthew and thought sounded very pleased, almost carefree with a hint of reckless.

"I don't think this is a good idea," she found herself saying. She was still trying to juggle the image of Matthew here, in Paris, under her balcony.

"You're not afraid, are you?"

"Of you?" Alana almost laughed at the idea.

"Yes."

"Oh please!"

"Then put your money where your mouth is and meet me downstairs."

Alana smiled and just shook her head. She was crazy for even considering this. He had just followed her hundreds of miles across the country. He looked so different from the Matthew she had known, calmer but still carefree. She remembered the way she had felt in his arms when they had danced, and it was just like before. One look, one touch, and she was his.

"I'll be right down."

Matthew was leaning against the bike when Alana came outside. She was breathless from the quick dash down the stairs, stopping briefly to tell Madame that she couldn't join her for coffee today, but would come back. Madame had nodded, a twinkle in her eye making Alana think she had heard the conversation on the balcony, even if she hadn't understood it.

So now here she was, standing two feet away from Matthew wondering what the next move was when he stared at her intently. Then he smiled, like a kid opening a present. It was infectious and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"Where are we going?"

He handed her the helmet. "Let's find out."

Alana put the helmet on and flung her right leg over the seat behind him. He turned the key in the ignition, flipped down his visor and flicked up the kickstand.

"Hold on," he said as he turned into the street and revved the engine.

Alana placed her arms around him and leaned closer as the bike picked up speed. Then they were flying as the bike twisted and turned around corners and past the other vehicles on the road. Alana leaned closer and tightened her grip as the scenery whisked by, a blur of color and sound. Red merged into blues and green, the cacophony of traffic sounds fading as he took a quiet side street before joining another road leading out of the city.

Matthew slowed down as they neared a small village and turned into the path leading to an outdoor café. They had been driving for almost an hour and he hadn't heard a word from Alana. If she hadn't tightened her grip whenever the bike picked up speed, he wouldn't have known she was there. Not that being on a motorbike on a busy highway was conducive to conversation, but the old Alana would have been plastered to his back, talking over the noise.

He kicked down the brake and switched off the engine before removing the helmet. Alana was already off the bike, her helmet resting on the back seat as she fluffed her hair. She arched her back and stretched her arms all the while looking him straight in the eyes. When they were younger those eyes had reflected what she felt. Now he couldn't make out anything except a hint of wariness.