What are the Chances? Read online

  “Why do you have a bad feeling about him?”

  “Shifty eyes. Lied to my face. Stared at her like a weirdo.”

  “Okay. Hold on.” Trevor cut the engine and got off the bike, then jogged over to his front porch.

  I watched as he took the stairs two at a time and disappeared into their house. It was going to be so strange to not live next door to him anymore. One of the reasons I thought moving to Toronto would be good was so I wouldn’t have any visual reminders of the way things used to be. But I couldn’t imagine a life without him in it, at least on the periphery somewhere.

  Trevor stepped back out onto the porch and closed the door behind him before walking back to where I was waiting. “My dad’s taking her fishing in a few minutes. It will be fine today. How long is he staying?”

  “Until Wednesday.”

  “We should try to find out more about him when we get back.” He handed me the helmet and said, “Your hair looks nice. Too bad the helmet’s going to mess it up.”

  “Thanks.” I tucked it behind my ears and stared at the ground to hide the flush in my cheeks the compliment had triggered.

  We both put our helmets on and he slid his hands into leather gloves. I stared at the bike, not sure I could do it. Trevor sensed my trepidation and flipped his visor up. “Do you trust me?”

  I nodded.

  “With your life?”

  Our eyes locked and his expression penetrated into my soul. Without a doubt I knew he would never let anything bad happen to me if he could help it. And he was the only person on the planet who made me feel safe enough to overcome my biggest fears. I absolutely trusted him with my life. “Yes.”

  “Then get on.”

  I swung my leg over to straddle the bike, then slid down on the seat until our bodies were touching. He shifted his upper body forward towards the handlebars, which pushed our hips even tighter together. That was new. It definitely felt like flirting. More than flirting, actually. It felt sexy. Everything inside my body warmed as I placed my hands on either side of his waist and leaned my chest against his back.

  He yelled over his shoulder, “Move when I do, like we’re one person.”

  The engine revved again, which sent vibrations through my already pulsating body and then we were moving. We rode slowly across the parking lot and turned onto the highway, heading south towards Vancouver. He changed gears and the bike thrust forward, faster and faster.

  When we approached the curve in the highway where my dad’s accident had happened, my heartbeat suspended motionless for one beat before it clunked back to life and then thumped out of control. The guardrail had been replaced and the skid marks had faded a long time ago, but the trees still showed the scars of where the car had torn through their flesh on its way over the cliff. The trauma still lingered in the shadows cast by the mountain and it coated me in dread every time I passed the spot.

  Trevor reached his hand back and touched my thigh to check if I was okay. I wasn’t really, so I rested my hand over his and gave it a little squeeze. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered a list of reassuring self-talk, “I can do this. I don’t want to be paralyzed by fears. Life is meant for living. When it’s my time to go it’s my time. I can’t control destiny. Trevor would never let anything bad happen to me. Everything is going to be fine. Breathe.”

  We left the evidence of the carnage behind us and reached a straight stretch of highway. Trevor placed my hand safely back around his waist. Before I knew it, we were going so fast everything around us seemed to blur. When I realized he’d been holding back until that point, I shrieked and dug my fingers into the leather of his jacket. It was terrifying, so I repeatedly recited, “I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Thirty minutes after we left Britannia, we crossed the Lion’s Gate Bridge and headed through Stanley Park into downtown Vancouver. Once we were off the highway, I felt a little more comfortable, but I couldn’t think about the fact that there was absolutely no protection if another vehicle hit us. Travelling by car was going to feel perfectly safe compared to the bike since it, at least, had a giant metal cage protecting me. Scaring me was probably Trevor’s plan all along. And it was the right thing to do.

  I focused on the scenery instead of the thought of how much it would hurt if we had to dump the bike and slide across the pavement at fifty kilometres an hour. The English Bay area was busy with both foot and car traffic, so we slowed and inched bumper to bumper down Denman Street, people watching. After we crossed the Burrard Street Bridge, Trevor turned a couple of times and took us through the Kitsilano and Jericho Beach neighbourhoods and then up through an area called Point Grey. The houses were beautiful, with huge manicured yards. Eventually, we passed a large stone sign carved with the words: The University of British Columbia.

  I had been to the campus a couple of times with Sophie to check it out, and we had come down to watch a football game in the fall. It was a beautiful campus that overlooked the ocean. U of T seemed nice too, from the pictures online, but Toronto itself wasn’t as beautiful of a city. And it was bitterly cold there in the winter. And I didn’t know even one other person going there.

  UBC was the size of a small city with academic buildings, residences, private condos, stores, museums, theatres, and restaurants spread over the entire campus. Because it was summer session, the students who were wandering around and lounging on the grassy areas all seemed pretty relaxed. The vibe was inviting. As we drove past the row of the fraternity and sorority houses, I realized I needed to use the restroom. I slid my hand under the waistband of his leather jacket and gave him a gentle pinch, then flipped my visor up and yelled, “I have to pee.”

  He nodded and turned left at the next street. He parked in front of the Student Union Building and cut the engine. I got off the bike and removed my helmet. Once we weren’t moving anymore and the engine wasn’t rumbling, the rush caught up with me. My words spilled out way too fast and loud, and I was jigging around because the fear-induced adrenaline was still highly dosed through my bloodstream, and I really did need to use the washroom. “I can’t believe I agreed to do that.” I flipped my hair forward, shook it, and then ran my fingers through it to try to get the tangles out. I whipped it back and kept rambling, “I was petrified the entire time, but that’s partly what made it so exhilarating.” I thrust the helmet at him to hold and then I walked backwards for a few bouncy steps and said, “If I were you I would ride the bike all the time.”

  Trevor chuckled at my hyper rant and said, “The first time’s always the best.”

  “Unlike sex.” I said but then instantly wished I hadn’t.

  His eyebrows rose.

  “Uh, not that I would know. Personally. I mean. I’ve heard. From other people.” Desperate to shut myself up, I spun around and jogged into the Student Union Building.

  So embarrassing.

  After I finished in the washroom, I stood out in the concourse for a long time. The idea of getting back on the bike was awkward since he was going to know what I was thinking every time we accelerated, turned a corner, or came to a stop, for that matter. Walking home crossed my mind as a consideration. Eventually, I convinced myself that he wouldn’t have read as much into the sex comment as I assumed he did. It wasn’t like he could see into my thoughts, it only felt like he could. I decided that if I just pretended it meant nothing, then he would believe it meant nothing. But maybe I didn’t want him to believe it was nothing. It was something.

  There was a newsstand in the hall that had a magazine with Riley Rivers on the cover. A mini vision flashed through my mind. It wasn’t like my other visions. It was more like a photograph. It was Kailyn’s smiling face. I saw it for an instant and then it was gone again. My intuition was definitely on overdrive. The adrenaline didn’t help. I searched my pockets and found a ten-dollar bill. The magazine was about Riley Rivers’ North American tour and it was filled with photos, trivia, and information about the upcoming t
our dates. She was going to go crazy over it.

  Back outside, I tried to act normal, but Trevor looked super-hot straddled on the bike. I couldn’t stay cool. He smiled at me in a way that made it clear he was still amused by my sex comment. I handed him the magazine without saying anything. He tucked it into a storage compartment. “Is there anywhere in particular you want to go?” he asked.

  Anywhere. Literally. I wanted to go wherever he wanted to go. Forever. But despite all the possibilities of things we could spend the day doing, I drew a blank. I needed to stall so he wouldn’t decide to head home right away. “Since we’re down here, maybe we should try to meet up with my mom for lunch. You know how she gets if she finds out I was in the city and didn’t try to see her.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Definitely not the most romantic idea I could have come up with, but it would at least guarantee another couple of hours with him. And Mom really did hate it when I was in Vancouver and dodged her. I pulled out my phone to call her. She was working, but she was excited we were in Vancouver and insisted on making us lunch, so she invited us over to the condo. I talked to her for a little while, then hung up. “She said she can meet us in an hour at her place. Don’t tell her about my involvement in the highway washout. She’ll have a conniption.”

  Trevor nodded to agree because he knew her as well as I did. “The little boy survived. He’s doing well.”

  “Really? That’s a relief.”

  His eyes scanned down to my feet and then back up to my face, which was something I’d never noticed him do before. Then he smiled and said, “We make a good team.”

  “Definitely.” I smiled too but hid it by turning to braid my hair. “What do you want to do for the next hour?”

  “How about some more sightseeing around town? Get you used to the bike.”

  “Okay.” Still grinning, I got back on and put my helmet on. When my hips slid down and pressed up against his, he subtly moved closer to me. There was definitely something going on between us. My stomach got butterflies and a zingy sensation shot along all my nerves. As we backed out and took off again, I closed my eyes and hoped he either couldn’t read my mind or had the same thoughts going on in his head.

  We rode back into downtown Vancouver over the Granville Street Bridge and toured around the city. The fear I had felt about being on the bike was completely cancelled by the comfort of being saddled up against his back. Taking a huge risk and feeling protected at the same time was invigorating. We rode through Chinatown, Gastown, and Yaletown, then he parked on the street in front of my mom’s condo.

  She lived on a tree-lined but urban street—completely opposite to Britannia Beach. There were always people around, jogging, walking their dogs, playing guitar, or whatever. She liked the buzz all night, but it was overwhelming to me with all the lights and the constant drone of the city grind in the background. The building itself was a modern high-rise with a doorman, nice if city living had been my thing.

  I got off the bike. Trevor also swung his leg over the seat and hung his helmet on the handlebar, then he took my helmet and hooked it on the back of the seat. He raised one eyebrow in a sexy way and in one smooth move stepped towards me to place his hands on my shoulders. I studied his expression, trying to figure out what he was doing. The momentum of his body weight made me step backwards across the sidewalk until I was pressed up against the marble wall of the building. Oh my God, was he doing what it felt like he was doing? He leaned his body firmly against mine and slid his hands along either side of my neck. He was doing it. Completely taken off guard, I gasped when he clutched handfuls of my hair. Holy cow. It was happening. He paused and stared directly into my eyes, maybe to make sure I was okay with what he was doing. I was totally okay with it, so I pulled his face towards me and kissed him hard. He kissed me back with an intensity that reached every part of my body. The warm tingly sensation started in my lips, traveled down my throat, and into my stomach, where it transformed into a pulsating sensation that throbbed deep inside me and made me forget about everything but him. My heart pounded and my breathing sputtered as his lips moved with mine and his hands slid from my neck down my body. It felt as if I was in a dream. His right hand paused on my hip before he pulled me even tighter up against him. The blood rushed out of my legs and left them feeling as if they couldn’t support my weight. My fingers dug into his shoulders to hold myself up.

  I made the kiss as good as I knew how because I wasn’t sure if it was a one-time thing. It was actually better than good. It was mind-blowing. When he eventually stopped kissing me, he kept his face close to mine. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and his expression seemed torn, as if he was trying to decide whether he should continue or stop. He stared at me, maybe waiting for me to say something, but I was speechless.

  It took a long time before I was finally able to construct a thought that was suitable for saying out loud. “You’re really good at that,” I said breathlessly.

  The right corner of his mouth shot up in a grin. All of the tension drained out of his face and his expression became almost cocky. He knew he was a good kisser. I felt dizzy, so I unzipped my jacket to try to help myself breathe better. I sort of stumbled towards the bike and sat sideways on it. Passing out was a genuine concern based on how fast my head was spinning. With both legs stretched out onto the sidewalk, I propped my hands against my knees and inhaled as much air as I could manage. Trevor looked fairly pleased with himself as he watched my reaction.

  Formulating what I wanted to ask him was not going that smoothly. Things like, What was that? Does that mean you don’t have a girlfriend? and Can we do that again, please? were the questions that came to mind first. I exhaled slowly and studied his expression. “Why did you do that?”

  “You didn’t want me to?”

  I blinked repeatedly to clear my brain. “I did. I do.” I stood up. “I definitely wanted to kiss you. I just need to know what it means to you. I’m supposed to move to Toronto. Was it just a kiss to see what it might feel like or was it more than that?”

  His cocky expression faded. “It was more than that.”

  I turned and paced on the sidewalk. I was so confused by all the conflicting emotions. What if it was only a reaction to the danger of the rescue and the fear of losing me? What if he was only saying it because he didn’t like the idea of me being with Mason? Maybe he was as panicked as I was about the idea of not being a part of each other’s everyday life anymore after the summer was over. Or was this it? Is that why he took me to tour around UBC? I spun around and faced him. “You want me to stay?”

  His mouth moved as if he was about to answer but he stopped himself.

  “Trevor. This is too important to not talk about. You need to tell me how you feel.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at his boots as he prepared what he wanted to say. After battling with some sort of internal conflict that was visible in his expression he looked up and said, “I want you to stay.”

  My mouth dropped open from the shock of hearing him actually say it out loud. My heart raced at all the possibilities. If I stayed, we could date seriously. We could maybe even move in together if things went well.

  He stepped closer and held both my hands in his. “But you’re right. This is really important. You’ve got a lot of big life decisions to make. Choosing what school you want to go to and where you want to live have to be based on what’s best for you. I don’t want my feelings for you to influence your choices. If you stay just for me and it doesn’t work out you’ll resent me. And I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of knowing I held you back.”

  I nodded and let it all sink in. It was overwhelming to know that the option was there if I wanted to take it.

  “Hellooooo,” my mom’s voice sang from behind me. I turned to see her coming up the sidewalk with a bag of groceries. “You’re early. Sorry to keep you waiting.” She kissed my cheek, then gave Trevor a hug. “Everything okay?” she glanced between us a
s if she could sense the emotional intensity.

  “Yup,” Trevor said as he took the grocery bag from her.

  She pointed her finger into his chest and warned him, “You better make sure she gets back in one piece on that bike of yours.”

  “Will do,” he promised. We all walked towards the front entrance of the building together and the doorman stepped out to hold the door open. My mind was still swirling as we stepped onto the elevator.

  “This is such a nice surprise.” She hugged me again and then tucked my hair behind my ears. “You should come down to visit more often. I’ve missed seeing your face.”

  Her comment sounded sweet, but it struck a nerve and my bitterness made me tense. If she missed me so much, she could have made an effort to come up to Britannia Beach more often. Not wanting to drive on the highway was only her excuse for not visiting. There was a train. She could also take a boat if she was really interested. But she wasn’t interested. The truth was she had hated growing up in Britannia Beach and if it weren’t for my dad working in Squamish, she would have forced us all to move down to Vancouver when he was still alive.

  She talked for the entire ride up in the elevator so didn’t notice my animosity. Trevor did, though. He tilted his head to the side in a give-her-a-break type expression. He always had a soft spot for my mom because she had been there for him more than his own mom ever was. That wasn’t saying much, but he was right. My mom wasn’t horrible. And if my dad were alive he’d definitely be unhappy with me for making such a big deal of all the small annoyances. I shot him a less-than-enthusiastic I’ll-try expression, which made him smile.

  The elevator doors opened and my mom got out first. Trevor’s hand slid across my waist to encourage me to go ahead of him. Wow. Every time he touched me it felt increasingly intense. The possibilities of what might happen next made me insanely excited.