The Mechanic

"Do I seem like the type to go for the 'girl next door' to you?"

Earlier in the evening Riley would have replied she seemed like the type to go for anything with boobs, but she wasn't so sure that was true anymore. She desperately hoped that wasn't true.

"I don't know...," she sulked, "which is your favourite then?"

Rowan raised one eyebrow and Riley realised it sounded like she was asking if she preferred her or Jenny. That was too close to home. "What's your favourite bike, I mean?" she added quickly.

"A classic Triumph Bonneville. I love all vintage but that one is my absolute favourite." It look Riley a moment to realise that this was the exact bike Rowan had compared her to.

"Of course it is. Smooth. You're just telling me what I want to hear."

"Oh, is that what you wanted to hear?" Rowan grinned cheekily again and Riley realised she had shown her cards again. "It's the truth, believe it or not. I am fixing up a gorgeous 1966 one at the moment. I bought her a couple months ago with the intention of restoring her and selling her, but I must say I've fallen for her, so I think I'll keep her. A few more days and she'll be done. I can't wait to take her for a ride."

Riley wanted to find a subtext in there of Rowan talking about her rather than the bike: falling for her, taking her for a ride, but it was a stretch at best. Rowan seemed genuinely excited about the bike.

"I'd love to see it sometime," she said vaguely, returning the ambiguity but wishing it to be possible.

"You can come see it right now, if you want. It's in my workshop, not far from here"

Riley's heart stopped. This was the moment that had been hanging in the air. The decision point, where would they take it from here? They had been building towards it and Riley knew it would come eventually. In movies, it was so easy to seal the deal at this point. Just say the words and she could take this further than she ever thought she would with a woman. It was clear they were both up for it.

All the excitement of earlier, the heat that still coursed through her body, the adrenaline that had made her heart race and her head swim, slowly but surely turned into nerves. Sarah's words rang in her ears: 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do.' Would Sarah do this? It didn't matter, Riley knew, she was just looking for excuses, for a way out. She couldn't understand the bipolarity of her feelings. A moment earlier she had been full of desire for this extraordinary woman and had been fantasising about scenarios that involved nudity, 'dismantling' and 'rides'. Even though this desire was still present, she now felt mostly scared and she knew she couldn't go through with it. She wasn't ready for this.

"I don't think I can, I'm sorry," she muttered. She couldn't even come up with a plausible excuse, and she felt embarrassed for letting her fear get the better of her. Thankfully, Rowan smiled understandingly. Riley imagined she saw a hint of regret in her eyes.

"Okay. Well, either way, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take off. I have to work tomorrow, and it's long past my bedtime."

Riley felt a surge of panic and sadness at the idea of Rowan leaving but she couldn't think of a single thing to say to make the attractive stranger stay.

"Maybe some other time," she said feebly, as Rowan stood up slowly but resolutely. Emptiness started to engulf Riley and she feared she'd made a big mistake. Should she have said yes? Or maybe if she hadn't made that comment about seeing the bike, they would still be chatting now? But deep down Riley knew that would only have been delaying the inevitable.

"Anytime, straight girl. It was a real pleasure to meet you." Rowan winked and gave Riley one last crooked smile, before she turned and walked off. She did not look back.

* * * * *

Riley was woken up from a blissful slumber by her phone screaming for her attention. She groaned and rolled over, annoyed to be rudely dragged away from what was turning into a very sexy dream. Whatever it was, it could wait. The phone rang for an eternity before giving up at last. Riley sighed with relief and tried to go back to her dream. Where did she leave it again? Ah yes, Rowan was just about to kiss her...

The phone started ringing again. Riley tried to ignore it, but couldn't stop images forming in her head of emergencies that needed her immediate attention. She'd better take this, in case it was urgent. What if something had happened to her granny?

Her phone wasn't in its usual location next to her bed. Where was the damn thing? Reluctantly, she got out of bed. The cocktails of the previous night rose to her head like a hammer blow and made her whimper. Those things certainly were potent. Memories rushed back to her and she smiled as she thought about the handsome stranger that had managed to wrap her around her tattooed finger. She also remembered coming home and being in a hurry to get her trousers off to relieve some of the tension that had been building up in her body all night.

She found her jeans on the floor where they been discarded and felt in the pocket. Bingo. Her phone vibrated furiously as if protesting her prolonged refusal to acknowledge it. The screen informed her Sarah was called. Riley sighed. She was not ready for that, but she knew her friend too well to hope this would go away. Reluctantly, she answered the call.

"Morning, Sarah."

"Riiiiii!! At long last! Why weren't you answering your phone? Were you still having sex?"

Riley couldn't help but smile at her friend's presumption. If only. "If I was, wouldn't that be a very good reason not to pick up the phone?"

"That's why I gave you time to finish up. Alright, start talking, spill the beans. How was he?"

"There really isn't anything to..."

"Hang on, I'm here with Jenny. I'm going to put you on speaker," Sarah interrupted her. Riley rolled her eyes. Of course. Sarah and Jenny went out for yoga and a picnic breakfast in the park stupidly early every Saturday morning. They must have just finished the yoga part and decided to try calling her while having the super-food smoothie and half a grapefruit that constituted their breakfast. Riley had no idea how they could survive on that. Or at least survive until they had three leaves of lettuce and a slice of cucumber for lunch. This was part of the reason Riley stopped going along to their outings - apart from the obvious fact that weekend sleep-ins were sacred - she needed something much more substantial in her stomach to prevent her from keeling over, and she just did not want to deal with the judging looks.

"Hi Ri! How's the dreamy lover?" Jenny was clearly trying to stay reasonably calm while secretly bursting with excitement.

"Where are you? Are you at his place? Is he with you?" Sarah lowered her voice for the last question, as if that would have made any difference if there was someone with her.

"I'm at home. Alone. I was sleeping." Riley yawned for emphasis.

"So what happened? Did you sleep with him?"

"I didn't. I went home." Riley was relieved that so far she had gotten away without having to use any gender-specific pronouns. She hadn't decided what she was going to tell them. How could she even begin to explain that the dreamy man had turned out to be a gorgeous woman, who had intoxicated her with her masculine swagger. That she wasn't sure how she felt about her; how tempted she had been by her; how somehow she now even regretted not going with her.

"Oh Ri... What happened? Didn't you like him? He was definitely gorgeous, and you guys seemed to be getting on well...," Sarah asked incredulously.

"No, it's not that..." This was the moment; should she tell them? "... He was great." Coward. Annoyed with herself that she couldn't own up to it, and with life in general because she wished there was anything more exciting to tell her friends, she added: "Look, I'm not just going to jump a stranger in a bar, okay?"

"You're right, sweetie. You shouldn't do anything you're not comfortable with. And, besides, that has never been your thing. It's more yours, Sarah," Jenny teased.

"Oh, you bitch! At least I get some action. Well, now there's only Finn, of course." Riley heard them giggling in the background, probably throwing a playful slap here and there.

"But you did like him then?" Jenny steered the conversation back.

"Yeah, I did... it was really great, actually. We really hit it off. And it just felt so natural and comfortable talking, you know, as if we'd known each other for years. But also all new and fascinating at the same time..." As Riley reflected, she realised just how much she had enjoyed talking to Rowan last night, and how taken she was with the mechanic.

"Oh, someone sounds a bit smitten! Are you going to see him again?" Jenny clearly wanted to continue her ideal view of the romance.

"I don't know. I..." The realisation hit her like a sledgehammer and she was surprised at the sadness that seemed to reach her very core. "I don't have a phone number."

"Oh... But he has yours, right?"

"No..." Riley felt like crying; why had she not thought to ask for a phone number? Somehow it just hadn't occurred to her. From the start, she had never expected to be attracted to Rowan, nor had she considered their time together as the start of something more. Now, however, she realised she was starting to see things a bit differently.

"He didn't ask!?" Sarah either thought this was a bad sign, or the guy was stupid for not asking. Being the supportive and overly confident friend she was, it was probably the latter.

"No. I guess it was a bit rushed at the end." Riley did not want to tell them that Rowan had invited her over but she had declined.

"Well, let's not panic yet. That's why there is social media. What's his name?" Sarah was obviously not ready to give up. Riley smiled as she recalled Rowan's comparison of her friend to a Harley Davidson. How right she was.

"Rowan," Riley said, relieved it was such a unisex name. The consolation was short-lived as she realised that if they did find her on social media, they would surely see she was a woman.

"Rowan..." Jenny repeated the name reflectively, as if tasting an exquisite wine.

"That's it? No last name?" Sarah was clearly less impressed.

"I don't know it." Riley felt like such an amateur.

"Oh Ri... We need to teach you a thing or two if you're going to be successfully single. These are rookie errors, you know," Sarah reprimanded, before turning to the search: "Alright, we'll just have to try. Let's see if he's on Insta first..."

Riley rolled her eyes. Obviously, the sacred Instagram. They probably still had the app open on their phones from posting pictures of their smoothies earlier, carefully positioning them at the edge of a yoga mat and hashtagging them 'blessed' or 'grateful' or 'yogalife'. Riley would never understand the obsession with the platform and seriously doubted Rowan would be the type to post things like: 'Fixed another bike. #wornoutchain #greasyhands #ontheroadagain #selfie #mechaniclife'.

"Hmmm... no promising hits on the name anywhere, no check-ins on Facebook, nothing on the bar's page, no tweets, nothing! Your guy is a ghost." Sarah sounded like she'd just discovered that there were still Neanderthals living in caves under the city.

Riley wasn't the least bit surprised, but no less disappointed, by the lack of clues. "Yeah, I didn't think so. That's too bad," she said, sounding more nonchalant than she felt.

"You can always revert to old-fashioned stalking and see if he shows up at the bar again," Jenny sighed, clearly devastated.

"I don't think I'm that desperate," Riley countered, not sure that she wasn't.

"Alright. Well, girl, next time you meet a hot guy, ask for his damn number, okay? We want you to get laid - you deserve it!"

"Thanks, Sarah. Duly noted. I have to go. Speak soon, okay?" Riley felt the true gravity of her situation sinking in: she had no way to get in touch with Rowan; no chance of seeing her again. She quickly ended the call, worried she was going to burst into tears.

As her friends had been talking, Riley had had one final idea; no more than a straw to grasp. With trembling fingers she opened her browser on her phone and typed Rowan's name into Google, along with the name of their town, and 'mechanic'. She scrolled through the results. The search engine informed her that in most of them the keyword 'Rowan' was missing; very helpful. As she had feared, there was nothing that pointed in the right direction. Next, she looked for motorbike repair shops and garages in town. There were many, and Riley wasn't even sure she worked in this town. It was hopeless. Riley threw her phone on her bed in frustration and told herself she would just have to forget about it.

As the weekend came and went and the new week began, Riley tried to get on with her life and not think about Rowan. It was a little bit easier from Monday, as she could drown herself in work. She did get terribly distracted regularly, especially when someone mentioned Blockchain. The handsome mechanic had a way of intruding into her thoughts, regardless of topic or relevance. She saw a motorbike: she thought of Rowan. She saw someone with a tattoo: she thought of Rowan. She heard a nice piece of music: she thought of Rowan. She met a new client: she thought of Rowan. Every time this happened, she momentarily got lost in reliving whatever memory of Rowan was provoked, before severely reprimanding herself and trying to oust the gorgeous stranger from her head.

As much as she had first told herself she was just curious, intrigued by this confident, strong woman. She couldn't keep lying to herself for very long; every time Rowan popped into her head, she felt nervous, happy, and strangely aroused at the same time. It boggled her mind - she had never had feelings like this for a woman before - but she couldn't deny it. She had fallen for this woman, and hard. She could not shake her desire to see her again. She pined for her, despite having no way to make this happen.

It was a message from her mum on Wednesday night that irrevocably ignited a spark of hope. The message was a typical 'just checking in because I never hear from you' and came in around 7.30pm. Riley sent a quick reply saying she was still at work finishing something for a client; she would call on the weekend. Almost immediately her mum replied she should go home soon; she was always working and should be careful of burning out.

A whirlwind of memories came rushing in all at once. She was always working, her mum had said. Rowan had said the same on Friday night about her friend, who was tending the bar. That was why Rowan had been there in the first place, to see her friend. A friend who undoubtedly knew more about Rowan than Riley did, for example her last name, her phone number, or where to find her.

Little cogs - much like the ones tattooed on Rowan's hand - were turning in her head: she could go and ask Rowan's friend, Megan she believed was her name, for her phone number. Of course, there was a real chance she would come across as a stalker or a desperate, lovestruck puppy. Besides, Megan also worked occasionally at some girls' bar in town, of which Riley did not know the name or address; she might not even find her.

Riley tried to tell herself that this lay in the realm of stalking, and was definitely the opposite of playing it cool and forgetting about Rowan. However, now that the seed had been planted, her excitement about the possibility of seeing the enigmatic stranger again had been growing like a weed, and had completely taken over all coherent thought.

After the umpteenth mistake at work the next day, she reasoned with herself that she had to get this behind her one way or another. She simply could not carry on like this, getting all worked up about the captivating woman and wondering 'what if...?' for the rest of her days. She decided she would give it one shot with the bar: if Megan was there and helped her, she would see Rowan again; if Megan wasn't there or anything else went wrong, she would forget about Rowan and move on. She realised the first possibility terrified her, but it was nothing compared to the panic that rose at the thought of the second possibility.

That evening Riley went back to the bar. She figured that if she postponed, she would lose her nerve. As she entered, she immediately recognised punky-haired Megan behind the bar. She hadn't really paid her any particular attention last time, let alone consider her sexuality. Now, with her straight-bias blinkers removed, she couldn't help but think that with her bright pink spiky hair and angelic face, Megan must be quite the catch in the lesbian scene too.

Riley walked up to the bar hesitantly, still not sure how she was going to play this. It wasn't busy and Megan came over to her straight-away. If she recognised Riley from the other night, she didn't show it.

"What can I get you?" she asked with a friendly smile.

"I'll have a beer, please. That one." Riley pointed at the tap closest to her: a lager of some sort. She could do with some Dutch courage while she figured out how to approach this.

"No exciting cocktails for you tonight then?" Megan grinned knowingly, as she started pouring the beer. Riley was mortified; she thought she would have a bit more time to prepare. Clearly Megan knew exactly who she was, and she had to hit the floor running. She laughed, hoping it wouldn't sound too forced.

"Oh god, yes of course," she started, as if she only just remembered, "that was a good joke! And very tasty too. You made them, right?"

"Yup. Glad you enjoyed them. Rowan was quite pleased with herself for that one." So the conversation had gone straight to their mutual acquaintance; no room for further planning.

"I bet she was. She's probably played that trick with dozens of girls, hasn't she?" Riley couldn't help but ask the question, hoping she didn't sound too pathetic.

"Not that I know of...," Megan started, raising Riley's spirits, "she usually tries to get them drunk asap."

Riley was horrified. It must have shown in her expression because Megan started laughing. "I'm kidding! God, look at your face." Riley laughed too, albeit a bit forced. She couldn't help but notice how both Rowan and Megan had skidded around the question of Rowan hitting on many girls.

"Although... you must have done something right for her to bring out the big guns," Megan added calmly. She shrugged and started cleaning the bar.

Riley heart jumped, filled with hope. "Did she say anything about me?" she asked, trying to sound casual. She could hear a slight nervous quiver in her voice, but she hoped Megan wouldn't notice.

Megan paused to look at her. "She said you were straight..." She raised an eyebrow as if challenging a response, then continued wiping the sink and added: "But she figured you were a spaghetti girl."

"I am straight," Riley countered, although she had long stopped believing it completely. "What's a spaghetti girl?"

Megan grinned. "Never mind, it's a crude joke."

Riley made a mental note to look up what it meant, as Megan walked off to serve another customer. She did a quick evaluation of what she had accomplished so far: not very much, apart from a vague notion that she may have received some sort of special treatment from Rowan. However, she was no closer to getting in contact with her. She needed to take it up a notch if she was going to get some concrete information. She continued drinking her beer while considering her options. After she'd downed the last bit, she waved Megan over.

"Can I get another one, please?"

"Sure." Megan started pouring her drink, as Riley tried to amp herself up to make the next move. She tried to get some words - any words - out of her mouth but couldn't find a way to make them sound nonchalant.