![]() In the front entryway of a metal building, beneath the words Adams’ Vintage Motors printed in red, a man leaned against the doorjamb. “She’s a fickle one, all right,” a voice called out.Īlec’s lips quirked at the suggestion he take the machine’s uncooperative nature personally, and he sought the source with his gaze. Stumped, Alec frowned at the mound of metal between his legs. ![]() The motor sputtered half-heartedly before dying, and two more tries produced the same results. Motivated, Alec raised himself up on his right leg and heaved his entire weight down on the kick start. One that didn’t include Tyler, his ex-boyfriend, at every turn.Ī fresh wave of determination hit. But being forced to push his classic-translation, old-Harley Davidson into said expert’s garage? Not exactly a stellar start to a relationship with Alec’s new-to-him motorcycle or his recently formulated plan to put the past behind him and get a life. Alec coughed as exhaust fumes and grit hit his face.Ĭlearly a cosmic bitch slap for ignoring the expert’s advice and purchasing this bike.Īn impulse buy triggered by a hellacious morning, sure. ![]() ![]() ![]() Nothing like being insulted by a retiree before being left to eat her dust. Not far from Alec’s intended destination, his motorcycle stalled at the stop sign, and the elderly lady behind him gunned her vehicle, flipping Alec the bird as she roared by. ![]()
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