BREATHE FOR ME

Chapter 10: Euphoria

"Will you go and get that May, it's probably one of the boys." Julianne says quickly. May, before she's even finished speaking, is making her way quickly down the stair case. I decide to get up off the bed now that the group has been thrown back into action. I quickly down the last of my prosecco, letting the bubbles fizz down my throat. I've never been much of a drinker, given my situation, but tonight I decided to loosen up a little and have one glass of prosecco with the girls as they chain-drink themselves into a loud fuzzy mess. Be normal, Gen, be normal.

"Dex has just set off from his, he'll be ten minutes, and Lucan apparently set off two minutes ago so he'll be here around the same time." Morgan explains as she hangs up the phone. As she does, Piper, Dalia and Julianne jump off the bed, slide their heels on and start squirting themselves with different perfumes, creating a cloud of clashing girly smells. My throat fights against it, tightening a little. I check my small clutch bag, checking for my night-time pill, cell phone and some money. Anxiety rises in my chest as the girls scurry around the room, altering their make-up and adding more spray to their hair styles.

"Gen? That was Ren, he's outside waiting for you." Suddenly the girls stop rushing, each turning to look at me with cheeky smiles plastered across their faces. Well, apart from Morgan, who pretends that May hasn't even re-entered the room. They all make a discreet movement towards the window, staring down at the street, presumably at Lorrie. May grabs my arm, checks that I have my bag, and lightly pushes me in the direction of the stairs with a cheeky smile.

"Have fun." She whispers, going over to join the other girls.

......

Outside, Lorrie leans up against the shiny body of his bike, wearing a tight black t-shirt, ripped black jeans and some white converse trainers. Around his neck is the small silver chain he was wearing at Teddy's. As usual, he looks very tall and intimidating in the darkness. Shadows, cast by his messy helmet-ruffled hair, express his high cheek bones and sharp jaw. I make my way down the garden path towards him and as I do so, I watch as his green eyes give me their familiarly slow once over. Trailing up my tanned legs from my heels, his eyes take in my satin dress and long dark hair, which gently brushes the top of my waist. They seem to linger there before flitting up to meet my eyes. At this point I've reached his bike and stand in front of him. Up close, I can see the burning behind his eyes. But unusually, they don't burn with mischief or annoyance, they burn with desire.

"Not so cute and fluffy now." He says quietly, his lips tweaking up a little at the corners.

"No?" I reply, still feeling little light-headed following his intense analysis, but amused nonetheless with his bumblebee analogy.

"All sting tonight." Is all he says as he pushes himself from the bike, holding out a white helmet for me. I relieve him of it, taking a few steps forwards so that I'm stood between him and the bike. Up close, I can really appreciate this machine for what it is.

"Do you even know what kind of bike this is?" he asks from behind me, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Of course," I reply straight away, glancing over my shoulder to where he is stood smirking. He raises an eyebrow. "It's a 2009 Harley Davidson FXSTB Night Train." I say, pulling on my white helmet and fiddling with the clasp under my chin. "One of the top ten models of Harley's. How you, a seventeen year old, got it, is the real question."

Reaching over, he gently grabs my wrist and tugs so that I turn around to face him. The smirk on his face is still there but its underlying patronizing tone is gone, leaving me feeling warm and fuzzy under his touch. That must be the prosecco, surely. I'm about to ask him to remove his hands from mine when he gently pulls my fingers away from the clasp under my chin and takes a step closer to me so that there are only a few centimetres between us. I can feel his warm body, awfully close to mine, and my words seem to disintegrate. He takes his time linking up the clasp, fiddling under my chin, before giving me a devilish wink and letting go. Finally, taking his eyes away from mine, he steps back, grabs a large black sweater with MARCHESI CAR PARTS AND DEALERSHIP embroidered across the back in red letters, and passes it to me.