I’d given her my helmet, even though she’d protested, and now her hands were clutched in the front of my cut like her life depended on it.Felt good.Natural.Like she belonged there.
She hadn’t said much since we pulled away from the clubhouse, but she pointed things out with little taps to my shoulder and soft yells over the roar of the engine.
“That building there used to be a theater.Closed down last year.”
“That bakery?Best apple fritters in Madison.”
“Avoid that alley.Smells like puke and regret.”
I laughed more than I thought I would.The shit day I’d had started to bleed away with every block we passed.Every breath of hers against my back.Every time her thighs squeezed tighter when I hit a bump.
We looped around Capitol Square.The gold dome gleamed like a crown in the twilight.She pointed out more spots: a coffee shop with crooked tables, a record store with a basement bar, and the co-op she volunteered at when she was nineteen.
She knew this city like the back of her hand.And I was learning it through her.
We turned onto East Washington, and the air changed.A little grittier, a little more industrial.The buildings grew boxier.Less fancy architecture, more concrete and glass.
I pulled into the cracked lot in front of the warehouse we’d locked down for Saints’ Smash.Killed the engine.Her arms lingered around me.
“You okay, doll?”I asked.
She didn’t let go.
“Just...that was my first ride,” she said, her voice muffled against my back.
I twisted in the seat and looked at her.“You telling me I popped your bike cherry?”
She laughed with her cheeks pink.“You’re such a guy.”
“Damn right.”I reached behind and gave her thigh a squeeze.“And you held on real good.Natural, even.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” she teased.“You drive like you’re running from the law.”
“Nah.That’s Magnum’s job.I’m the careful one.”
She rolled her eyes and finally slid off the bike.I followed and planted both feet on the pavement.She looked up at the dark warehouse with her arms folded over her chest.
“This is where it’s gonna be?”she asked.
I nodded.“Saints’ Smash.Fully operational in six months if the permit gods don’t come after this place next.”
She turned to me.“That really has to be a misunderstanding.”
I sighed and ran a hand down my face.“Had an inspector and two cops show up today.I don’t really know how that can be a misunderstanding.Something tells me we pissed off someone we shouldn’t, or it’s Nick and Frank.”
She frowned.“That sounds like complete and total BS.Maybe they had the wrong building,” she tried to reason.
“Our address is right on the paper, doll.”I sighed and cracked my neck.“But we’ll take care of it.”
She nodded and rubbed her arms when her body shivered just a little.The wind had picked up.
“Cold?”I asked.
“A little.I was good on the bike, being next to you.”Her cheeks turned red, and she looked back at the warehouse.“This Wisconsin weather can change on a dime.I should be used to it after all these years.”
I walked to my saddlebag, popped it open, and pulled out the zip-up sweatshirt I kept stashed for longer rides.Black.Worn.Smelled like exhaust and leather.“Here.”
She took it and tugged it on.The sleeves were long on her arms, and she zipped it halfway up.She wrapped her arms around herself and tugged it tight.
