Only Tyler by Jess Dee

left you behind,” Tyler agreed.
    She couldn’t help it. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and before she knew it she laughed. She left her one hand in Steve’s, took Tyler’s with the other and squeezed them both. God, it was nice sitting with her two best friends again.
    “So what did you two buy on your shopping spree?” she asked.
    “Makeup? New conditioner, perhaps?”
    “Actually,” Tyler said, his face shining with excitement, “we went for something a little more solid than that. A little more substantial.”
    When they finished their pizza, Tyler and Steve walked her down the road to Campbell Parade and showed her just how much more substantial.
    Across from them, Bondi Beach dazzled in the sunshine of the cloudless day, and surfers crowded the waves. Katie hardly noticed.
    She was too busy gaping in horror at the metal monster in front of her.
    Fear prickled her spine and dread flapped in the pit of her stomach. As she stared at the shining machine, anxiety and foreboding filled her.
    “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Tyler ran his hand over the sleek chassis of his new motorcycle.
    Katie didn’t answer. There was nothing beautiful about the bike.
    Not the buttery-soft, midnight black leather seat. Not the slick, flowing lines of the steel frame and not the lustrous, deep chrome finish. None of it appealed to Katie on any level.
    “A real beauty, mate,” Steve agreed with him.
    Katie stood back and listened to their almost reverent discussion about the V-twin engine, the aluminum-alloy pistons and other hyped-up body parts she’d never heard of. When they got on to talking about the price, Katie finally spoke.
    “You bought this?” she asked. “It belongs to you?”
    “Lock, stock and barrel.” Tyler nodded. “Want to take a ride?” He held out a helmet to her.
    “You’re joking, right?” She looked at him in horror. If the earth split beneath her feet she would not climb on that monster as a means of escape.
    “About this baby? Never. Hop on, we’ll go for a spin.”
    “No!” Katie said too quickly. “Thank you, but motorbikes are just not my thing.”
    “You don’t like her?” Steve seemed surprised.
    She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I hate her. I hate motorbikes, full stop.”
    “You do?” Steve asked.
    She shivered, the ominous prickles embedding themselves deeper in her spine.
    “They’re accidents waiting to happen.” As an intern, she’d treated a patient who’d come off his bike at a ridiculous speed. The resulting trauma a closed-head injury at a high velocity was something she never wanted to see again.
    “As long as you know how to handle a bike they’re safe, Katie,” Ty reassured her.
    “You know how to ride? When had that happened?”
    “Learned in London. It’s magic, Katie. Freedom on wheels. C’mon, try it.”
    “Not on your life.” She eyed the motorcycle with revulsion. “And I’d be happier if neither of you rode it either.”
    Steve laughed. “Know what, babe? You sound like my mum.”
    “Your mum is a sensible woman.” She frowned. “I don’t suppose it would do any good, my asking you to return it?” She looked imploringly at Tyler. “If you want to feel the wind in your face, buy a convertible.
    They’re safer.” She lifted her arms in despair. “Seat belts, gentlemen.
    Roll bars. Doors. Something around you, protecting you. You’re just too vulnerable on a bike. Too open to injury.”
    “It worries you, doesn’t it?” Tyler studied her face.
    “A lot.”
    It was only when he covered her hand with his that she realized she’d clutched his arm. She became conscious of the steely muscle beneath her grasp. “Katie, trust me, you have nothing to fear. I’m a safe driver. I know how to handle a bike.”
    The way he held her hand reminded her he knew how to handle a woman as well.
    She pulled her arm away. “What about everyone else on the road?
    No matter how confident you are with your own skills, you never know