Page 7 of Egg Me On
As we pulled away from the curb, I felt his body gradually begin to relax against my back. His grip loosened slightly, but he stayed close, his warmth seeping through my leather jacket. I tried not to notice how perfectly he fit against me, how naturally he began to follow my movements as we navigated the residential streets.
Most first-time passengers were terrible—they leaned the wrong way in turns or sat stiff as boards, fighting the bike's natural motion. Not Aiden. After the initial shock, he instinctivelyseemed to understand the rhythm, or sense my motions, his body moving with mine as we leaned into a curve, shifting his weight just right.
I guided the Harley onto a main thoroughfare, increasing our speed. Aiden's arms tightened slightly around my waist, but there was no panic in it. When I glanced in my side mirror, I caught a glimpse of his face—eyes wide but bright with excitement, not fear.
"This is amazing!" he shouted, the wind carrying his voice. "Why doesn't everyone do this?"
Something warm and unwelcome unfurled in my chest. I pushed it down, focusing on the road ahead. The shop was only fifteen minutes away, in an industrial area West of I-25. Fifteen minutes of this stranger pressed against me, his hands tight against my jacket.
This was fine. This was nothing. Just helping Silas out.
I took a sharper turn than necessary at the next intersection, partly to test Aiden's unexpected aptitude for riding, partly to distract myself from my own bullshit thoughts. He responded perfectly, leaning with me, a surprised laugh vibrating against my back. His thighs tightened around mine as we straightened out, and I swallowed hard.
Fifteen minutes. I could manage fifteen minutes without losing my mind over some pretty boy with a food truck and an intuitive grasp of motorcycle physics. I'd dealt with worse. Probably.
I wasn’t even attracted to men.
"The light's changing!" Aiden called, pointing ahead unnecessarily.
I downshifted, slowing for the red light. When we came to a stop, Aiden didn't pull away as most passengers would. He stayed molded to my back, his chin nearly resting on my shoulder.
"This is seriously cool," he said, his voice close to my ear. "Thanks for picking me up, even if Silas made you do it.”
"Whatever." I stared straight ahead, refusing to turn and meet his eyes, which I could feel on the side of my face.
“I can’t believe I’m on a motorcycle. Who knew it’d be such a rush?"
The light turned green, and I accelerated perhaps a little too aggressively, cutting off his cheerful chatter. Aiden laughed again, the sound vibrating through both our bodies as he clung tighter.
“Am I sitting too close?” he asked.
"You're perfect.” Shit, that had come out awkwardly. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
"Yeah?" The pleased surprise in his voice was almost childlike, and I cut off any more questions with a loud rev of the engine as the light turned green.
We merged onto the highway for a brief stretch, and I opened up the throttle. The Harley responded with a satisfying roar, eating up the asphalt beneath us. Aiden whooped with delight, his body pressed impossibly closer now. His hands had found their way to my abdomen, splayed wide against my stomach. I focused on my breathing, on the road, on anything but the way his fingers seemed to burn through my t-shirt. Should have worn my gear. My leather jacket with its protective pads would have been hot as hell in this weather, but it would have dulled this sensation.
The exit for the shop approached, and I took it smoothly, guiding us through the final few blocks. As we pulled into the FRMC parking lot, I felt a strange reluctance I hadn't anticipated. I cut the engine and lowered the kickstand, and Aiden's arms slowly unwound from around my waist.
"That was incredible," he said, climbing off the bike with noticeably more grace than when he'd gotten on. He removed the helmet, his hair adorably mussed, cheeks flushed with excitement. "Thanks again, Cash. I know Silas forced you, but I really appreciate it."
I grunted, avoiding his gaze as I secured my own helmet.
I watched him walk toward the entrance closest to the FRMC’s kitchen, messenger bag bouncing against his hip, that same energy in his step I'd noticed yesterday. Only when hedisappeared inside did I allow myself to exhale fully, running a hand over my face.
Chapter 3
Aiden
The rumble of Cash'sHarley died beneath me as we pulled into my driveway, my arms still wrapped around his waist, fingers splayed across the hard plane of his stomach.
Despite acting grumpy about the rides, he’d shown up day after day, always there to pick me up, though I’d texted him more than once that Mira and I could figure out how to share her car. He’d responded curtly, saying it was fine, and then let me know when to be ready. My car sat neglected in the driveway, waiting for me to work up the courage—and the funds—to take it into a shop.
And the thrill of riding on the back of Cash’s bike, pressed against his muscular body, wasn’t really motivating me to hurry up the repairs.
Because, despite his obvious personality defects, I was enjoying the rides. After a week on the back of his motorcycle, my body knew the drill—knew when to lean with him, move with him, when to try not to pop a boner pressed against his back. That last one was impossible, because Cash was a walking sex god, tall and handsome, with thick muscles rippling under glistening warm brown skin.
But if I angled my hips right, I was pretty sure he couldn’t feel how horny squishing myself against his back made me.
