Teacher's Crossroad

"No, shit? You're a math nerd?" Raúl said with a chuckle.

Christy walked from her chair on the other side of the island to drape herself against Tyson's side as she looked to the younger man. "Certified, genius-level match nerd," she purred.

Tyson chuckled and gave her a sweet kiss. "You say the nicest things." He looked to Raúl, who was still having some difficulty with Christy showing affection to him.

"If you're some kind of Einstein, why aren't you teaching?" Raúl said belligerently.

Tyson's smile drained away. "People keep telling me that, and I keep telling them I'm retired."

"He's got PTSD, dummy!" Miranda snapped. Raúl glanced at him in surprise.

Tyson gave the brunette a sharp look then turned his eyes to Christy. "You've been talking about me with others?" he asked stiffly.

Christy held his eye and nodded. "Miranda had a brilliant idea, and we're here to see it through."

Tyson was thrown off balance by her bold assertion when he was expecting defensiveness. "Idea?"

"Come outside!" Christy said with a wide grin, and once more, Tyson was forced to comply with her enthusiasm. Miranda was at their backs with a huge grin on her face as well. Her brother followed, frowning.

When they were all in the driveway again, Raúl pulled back the tarp he had over the contents of the pickup's cargo bed. He spotted a road bicycle. The fat tubed frame was a satin silver with fluorescent yellow/green accent stripes and had black rims and wheels. Raúl lifted it out, and Miranda collected it from him. She and Christy walked it over to him. Raúl pulled back another blanket then lifted another bicycle from the cargo area.

Tyson's attention went back to the two ladies turning the silver bike so he could see it broadside.

"Christy bought you a bicycle!" Miranda cheered.

Tyson's eyes went to the gorgeous blonde, and his mouth dropped open. She bit her lip anxiously, so he closed his mouth as his eyes returned to the sleek machine. "It's beautiful! It looks fast, just sitting still," he managed.

"Do you know how to ride a bicycle?" Raúl asked, and the two ladies' faces dropped as the thought suddenly occurred to them that he might not.

Tyson couldn't suppress his chuckles at their expressions. He smiled over at Raúl. "Yes, I do, though it's been some time since I last did, and I don't see the gear shifters on this one."

Miranda was breathing a sigh of relief as she quickly pointed out the brake levers doubled as gear shifters.

Tyson took Christy's hand and looked her in the face. "Thank you. This was exceptionally generous of you." He took in the sleek bike once more.

"It's not a car. It doesn't feel like one. It doesn't move like one. The controls are different. You get exercise while riding it. You can travel greater distances much faster than walking. Getting into town is now possible," Christy said. "I was stuck on the idea of getting you back into a car when Miranda suggested a bicycle. She's an avid cyclist, so she had a different perspective on the issue. I truly hope you don't mind that I discussed this with her."

Tyson was watching Christy and could see she was working herself up—

Oh.

It suddenly made sense why she was doing this, now. She was leaving. They'd talked about it, as a future thing, something not to be concerned about now. It seemed the future was impatient for her.

He glanced at the other two. "Can you give us a moment?" When Miranda nodded, he gently led Christy off to the side.

"When do you leave?" he asked gently.

She sucked in a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. "E-end of next week."

He nodded, but his gut clenched inside. "This is a big opportunity?"

She nodded as her lashes filled with tears.

"Hey. No tears. We knew this day would come, and there is nothing to cry about. We're good friends and always will be. You have me in your corner rooting for you in whatever you choose to do." He glanced over at Miranda as another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"Did you arrange to have your friend take over looking after me?" he asked.

Christy sniffed. "It's more that you can take care of each other. My other friends will likely stop connecting with her once I'm not there as the social glue. They don't get her as I do, and she makes them uncomfortable. She has no one else as she's a little awkward with people. She could use a friend who can boost her confidence. She also has terrible judgment when it comes to boyfriends and has been burned a few times recently." She sighed. "She cycles alone, and I don't like that. She should be with other cyclists. Could you ride with her from time to time? I hope you like the bicycle!"

He felt better that he wasn't a charity case. "I love the bicycle! Thank you so much! I will definitely ride it, and if it can spring me from my prison, all the better."

"Good! Because I have more presents!" she exclaimed and rushed over to her car. She pulled a couple of bags from the trunk and dashed back to him.

In one of the bags was a bike helmet. It was satin black plastic with many vent holes. A few stripes of the same yellow/green on the bike decorated the sides of the helmet. He also saw black fingerless cycling gloves with padding on the palms.

"Is this going to fit me on top of all this damn hair?" he asked. "Maybe I should get it cut back to the original short length I had—"

"NO!" Christy and Miranda exclaimed, then burst into laughter.

Christy recovered first. "Your hair is gorgeous and really suits your new look! Leave it long! Please!" she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

He sighed. Pushing his hair back, he managed to get the helmet on, but his hair was bunched up on his back.

Miranda came forward and gathered the hair into a bundle. "You should tie it back before putting the helmet on."

"Right, got it." He realized she was still holding his hair. "You can let go now," he said with a smile.

She flashed him an embarrassed smile and stepped back.

Next, Christy pulled black bike shorts, black ankle socks, and a black cycling jersey from the shopping bag. She held out the jersey to him, and he held it up by the shoulders.

Tyson burst into delighted laughter as the shirt was black as a blackboard with math formulae printed all over it, looking like chalk scribbles. "A math nerd cycling shirt? This is awesome!"

Christy and Miranda were beaming with happiness. "Go put them on!" Christy asked.

"Nothing goes on under the cycling pants," Miranda insisted, then her face went red.

He pulled the helmet off, leaving it with Miranda, and carried the clothes with him into the house.

In his bedroom, he stripped off his shorts and tugged on the bike shorts. They clung to him like a second skin. The padding between his legs felt like he was wearing a diaper. He pulled the jersey on, and again, it felt clingy but didn't restrict his movement.

He looked in the dresser mirror at his hair. It truly was as long as Imani's had been. He walked to her dresser and opened the top right drawer. Inside were Imani's hair scrunchies. He grabbed a random one, white, and did his best to pull his hair back to bind it in the elasticized hair tie. He looked in the mirror. Good enough.

At the front door, the new socks went on then he put on his sneakers. He didn't have the funky shoes Miranda had.

Walking outside, he heard Christy's wolf whistle.

"The pants could be a little less tight," he complained.

"No, they're perfect!" Christy purred. She joined him at the base of his stairs. She patted his chest as she looked at how well he filled out the jersey. "Listen, I have to go, but I'd like to come by this weekend. Saturday afternoon and leave Sunday afternoon?"

He smiled. "Sure. That would be nice." He knew it would likely be the last time they would be together, so he'd prepare her a nice meal... and ensure the counter by the bathroom sink was clear.

Christy pressed her soft, hot, and hungry mouth to his, and he lost himself in the kiss for a moment. Raúl made a noise of frustration, and Tyson came back to himself. He eased Christy back, and she smiled at him before moving to speak to Miranda. Moments later, Christy was giggling and skipping past Raúl on her way to her car.

As the white coupe pulled out of his driveway, Tyson looked over to Miranda and saw the girl was watching him with wide eyes. Well, she wasn't exactly watching his face as her eyes were aimed much lower. He didn't need to look to know his excitement from kissing Christy was probably showing against the front of the tight shorts. He closed his eyes and willed himself to relax.

"I've got stuff to do as well. You staying here, sis?" Raúl asked impatiently.

"Yes, I'm going to ensure Tyson's bicycle is set up properly for him. Maybe we can go for a ride?" she said, looking at him hopefully. He nodded, and her grin widened.

"Nice meeting you, Raúl," Tyson said with a wave.

The young man smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it was nice meeting you. Take care."

Miranda and Tyson watched Raúl drive out of the gravel lot, then walked over to the two bicycles.

"You don't have cleated shoes yet, so they installed basic platform pedals which will work with your runners. You should look into cycling shoes soon and get cleated pedals as they provide a much better power transfer experience."

She had him sit on the saddle as he leaned against the house. She raised the seat, slid it back slightly, and tightened it all up.

"When you get the new shoes and pedals, you can fine-tune the positioning again. For now, this is good." She looked at him, and he nodded as it felt good.

"Would you like to go for a ride now?" she asked.

"Sure. Just let me lock up the house."

Tyson went inside and grabbed his wallet, keys, and cell phone. He discovered the jersey had a pocket on his lower back, so he tucked his items went into these once he'd locked up.

He got the helmet on easier now that his hair was being controlled. The gloves went on last, and he thought he looked pretty cool in his new duds.

As they walked the bikes across the gravel to the road, Tyson grinned self-consciously at Miranda. "I used to ride bicycles constantly throughout my childhood, and once I was attending the universities in Europe, everyone rode bicycles, so I got into it again. But it's been decades since I've ridden one. This looks a little daunting."

"Why don't we just get used to the gearing and the brakes as we slowly roll east along the road," she suggested.

He nodded and swung his leg over the frame.

It didn't take Tyson too long to find his balance on the new bicycle as it rolled so smoothly, and the steering was very relaxed. Miranda offered suggestions for operating the gears most efficiently based on the conditions and the grade. He got the hang of shifting and, more importantly, the brakes. He knew enough to not get thrown over the handlebars.

They continued east along the lakefront road, picking up speed until they were racing along. It all felt so natural to him!

Christy had been right. Cycling was so different from driving; it didn't trigger his PTSD at all. He loved it!

In almost no time, they reached the end of the road where the newly paved road into town began. He looked at Miranda's hopeful expression, took a deep breath, and nodded. She grinned happily and turned left, heading north on the road. He swung in behind her and found himself watching her firm round ass in her cycling pants. He looked away in embarrassment and spotted the new cycling/hiking path approaching.

"Are we going to take the trail or stay on the road?" he asked.

"Would you mind if we stayed on the road?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"Either is fine with me," he offered.

"Road, then."

Seeing no traffic on the trail, they rode over the slight bump and continued riding on the straight road.

The smooth pavement rolled by under their wheels, and they talked as they rode, which was mostly her talking about organized rides she's been in. She mentioned she didn't ride competitively but loved the camaraderie of group rides. She'd tried joining the local cycling club but discovered they were a bunch of elite snobs.

Miranda looked at him, hopefully again. "I'm hoping you'll learn to love cycling enough to maybe begin a cycling group with me."

He chuckled. "So far, so good! This is awesome!" Her answering smile was dazzling.

Tyson finally noticed the little square object fastened to her helmet. His didn't have that. "What's on your helmet?"

"Oh! It's a video camera. I sometimes record my rides," she said.

"Is it on now?"

"No, I always ask before recording someone. I wasn't sure if you'd mind," she said shyly.

"If you want to record, go ahead," he replied.

She grinned at him. "This section is so flat and straight, I'll hold off on recording until we get to the return. We'll be riding on the original country road, which is much more interesting.

Tyson thought about that road and recalled the last time he'd been on it. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach as he contemplated the return stretch. He pulled his mind back to ride, and he took comfort in how the experience of cycling was so different from driving. That calmed the butterflies considerably. He actually began to look forward to how the bike would feel on that rolling and twisting road.

Tyson noticed they were entering the outskirts of the town, and he felt a brief thrill to acknowledge he was doing it without being heavily sedated as he had been the last time. Of course, his purpose for coming in was for surgery, so that had been grim.

He looked around, and he didn't recognize some of the storefronts. The area had been given a facelift, and gentrification was at work in this neighborhood. That wasn't always for the better—

"Hey! An ice cream shop!" he exclaimed.

Hearing his delight, Miranda unclipped from her pedals, slowed to a stop, and dismounted. She walked her bike over to the outdoor tables as Tyson rushed to join her.

"My treat!" Tyson said with a grin. "What would you like?"

"A single scoop of chocolate, thank you," she said with a smile as she sat at one of the tables. They had the patio to themselves.

Grinning excitedly, Tyson propped his bicycle against a table and hustled away to enter the shop.

-=-

Miranda was tingling with excitement. Tyson really seemed to be enjoying the ride, which spelled good things for her plan to start up a cycling group! She'd be happy even if the group ended up just being the two of them.

Thinking of the two of them alone, Christy's last comment to her suddenly popped into her head. He really did that to her on the bathroom counter?

More tingles shot through her, but these started a warmth down below. She hadn't had sex for a while, and counting Vince, she hadn't had great sex... ever.

Motion at the curb caught her eye. Blake Carlington was parking his BMW 4 Series convertible. She saw him looking to see if she was alone, and her skin crawled. She turned on her helmet cam as a precaution.

"Where's Christy?" he called out bluntly.

Miranda never liked Blake as he gave her creepy leers like Vince had after he'd had sex with her.

"I don't know where she is," she replied with a neutral tone.

"My buddy at the bike shop just told me Christy dropped a lot of money on a silver Cannondale racing bike, and here it is," he said. He climbed out of his car to approach. "Once more, this proves what a lying skank you are. First, the stories about Vince and now this."

He reached a hand out to touch the bike.

"Don't. That's not for you to touch. Just like you're not allowed to touch Christy."

She saw Blake's rage flare as he glared at her.

"You better watch your spic mouth when you're talking to your betters. Maybe I should shut it for you." He moved closer to her, and she suddenly wished she had better control over her tongue.

"Hey! Take a step back, right now."

Tyson's deep voice cut through the tense silence, and Miranda felt immediate relief wash through her trembling muscles.

"Mind your own fucking business-oh!" Blake growled as he turned to see the big man approaching. He staggered back a few steps from Miranda as she watched him take in the muscles on the approaching man. Strangely, the two small ice cream cones in Tyson's big hands just made him more intimidating. Knowing he was a math nerd and almost sixty only made it funnier. She managed not to laugh, but her grin was wide as she accepted the chocolate ice cream cone from him.

She watched Blake's expression as the facts lined up in his mind. She watched the blond man taking in Tyson's cycling gear and the new bicycle. Her smile became wicked.

"Who the fuck are you?" Blake blustered at Tyson.

"Who the fuck are you?" Tyson growled back as he took a lick of his melting vanilla ice cream.

"That's Blake... Christy's ex-fiancé." Miranda said gleefully.

"Ohhhh..." Tyson said, and Miranda knew the dots were connecting. His body language was changing as he faced off against the younger suitor. He took another lick of his ice cream.

Blake was looking between Tyson and the expensive bicycle Christy had purchased earlier... for him?

"Who are you?" Blake asked again.

"Tyson Kane."

"Christy's lover," Miranda said excitedly.

Tyson looked at her and shook his head to get her to be quiet. He frowned at his melting treat and ran his tongue around it while Miranda watched in fascination.

Blake's expression showed his disgust as he looked Tyson up and down. "She left me for you?"

"No. Her reasons for ending the engagement had nothing to do with me," Tyson growled.

Miranda snorted. "Christy seems much happier now than she ever did with Blake."

Tyson looked at Miranda in frustration. "You're not helping."

Miranda's eyes widened in fear as she saw Blake leap at Tyson while his attention was focused on her.

Tyson's right hand shot out, blindly jabbing towards Blake, slamming his ice cream cone up the man's nose and into his eyes.

Blake staggered back, blinded by the frozen dessert. While Tyson leaned away and watched him cautiously, Blake threw a few wild punches in his blinded state and managed a solid strike against a light pole. The audible snap of breaking bones in his hand made Miranda and Tyson wince. Blake stopped swinging and howled in agony.

"That's broken. I'll call you an ambulance," Tyson sighed, pulling his cell out and making the call.

Once he hung up, he asked Miranda to get some napkins from the shop.

When she stepped outside, a police car arrived. She handed some napkins to Blake, sitting at one of the tables, nursing his broken hand. The rest of the napkins went to Tyson to clean the ice cream from his hand.

Miranda went to her helmet cam and shut off the recording. She popped the chip, put it into her cell phone, and copied the movie to it.

Two officers walked up to their group. "Someone called 911?"

Tyson went to speak when Blake blurted out, "I was attacked!"

Miranda leaped to her feet, and Tyson placed a finger on her lips before turning to the police. He handed them his ID.

"I called 911. Mr. Carlington was upset by something Ms. Moreno said about my relationship with his ex-fiancée, Christy Taylor. He decided to get physical—"

"LIAR! This b-bastard hit me in the face with his ice cream. I had to defend myself!" Blake insisted, then immediately realized how stupid that sounded.

The officer holding Tyson's ID smiled at him. "I'd never have recognized you. You look totally different from the guy I found in the ditch six years ago."

Tyson froze and looked at the man in surprise.

"Officer Patricks. I was the guy who spotted you in the ditch, all busted up and bloody. Seems you healed pretty well!" the man gushed and handed the ID back.

Miranda could see Tyson was having some difficulty responding, then he nodded with a stiff smile.