Lemon Chiffon #8, Eggnog #10--"Riding"
Author: leiamoody
Title: Riding
Rating: PG
Challenge: Lemon Chiffon #8 “the back seat”, Eggnog #10 “grab bag/Secret Santa”
Extra: Malt--12 Days of Christmas (“Ten minutes waiting”)
Story: Maybe December
Summary: Jamie and Allyson have a motorcycle quandary.
Note: Follow-up to Daring (first story in the post).
Word Count: 483
"The first thing it needs−“Jamie placed the wrench back in the case, then fell backwards onto the cement floor “−is a pillion seat.”
Allyson laughed. “You still won’t consider that sidecar.”
“Too antique.” He looked up at her with a vivid smile. “Plus you won’t be so close to me.”
Allyson flopped onto the floor beside him. “That’s cute.”
“Charming?” he substituted.
“You prefer that word because it sounds chivalrous.”
“Who doesn’t like their girlfriend wrapping their arms round them?” He reached out with grease-tinged fingers.
“I’m wearing my best skirt!” Allyson managed to find space on Jamie’s old raincoat without risking any smudgery on her gray tweed skirt. (She came over from the office to see Jamie’s gently used Bonneville [2009 T100, teal and white], delivered yesterday to the Unicorn and Rose’s garage via an indulgent paternal Secret Santa]).
“That didn’t stop us one night back in August.”
“It was a nice little black dress. Unfortunately it got stuck on the doorknob, torn up the back.”
“That was careless of me.”
“But you were doing such a…” Allyson kicked off her shoes “…well, you had me dazzled.”
“The outcome was amazing.”
“Definitely one for the memories.’
Jamie blushed. “Thank you.”
“You still won’t convince me about that back seat.”
“Could I persuade you with some poetry?”
“Will you create a ballad from the heart?”
“Heartfelt poetry beats anything pulled from a book, at least coming from someone you love.” Jamie leaned in for a kiss. “Would that convince you?”
“I know you’re a fantastic kisser.”
“You know I mean the pillion seat.”
“I won’t budge.”
“Why not?”
“Because the seat would be too small. My butt is huge, and my sense of balance is awful.”
“Nonsense. How else can you hold a pose in yoga?”
“Those are slow movements. Your balance stays centered on the mat as you go from one pose to the next.”
“But you could fall over anytime.”
“Just like you can fall off the bike, crack your head on the road−”
“Do you believe I would act stupid and get either one of us hurt?”
“No! I just don’t place any trust in bikes, particularly ones with motors.”
“I can understand being suspicious about the ones you peddle. I fell off that Schwinn on my sixth birthday…”
“I only tried riding a bike once, using training wheels. One sharp turn off the front lawn, then goes down a little version of me. Skinned knees, a bummed-up elbow, and tears overflowing accompanied by ten minutes of waiting for the ability to walk without stinging pain created a phobia.”
Jamie winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Now you understand why I’m scared of riding on the back of a motorcycle.”
“I suppose, although there is a big difference−”
“I need to get comfortable around this bike if I might ever decide to join you on the pillion seat.”
He smiled. “Maybe one day…?”