I narrow my eyes at him as I straddle my bike and throw the spare helmet his way. “Where to, cowboy?”
Eli climbs onto the seat behind me. I gasp as he tugs my hips back so my ass is pressed against his groin. He wraps his hands around my waist and leans forward. “Rider’s choice, kitten.”
Well, alright then. I kick the stand up and rev the engine. The rumble rolls through my body and I close my eyes, reveling in the vibrations and the white noise. This is why I like riding. Everything else ceases to exist when I’m on my bike.
I pull out of the driveway, waiting till we’re passed the houses before increasing the speed and flying down the road.
I’ve never ridden with someone on the back of my bike before. Eli’s body molds to mine, his warmth blocking the sharp bite of the wind. It’s mid-December and cold as fuck under the clear sky but Eli pressing against me has me burning up. I feel him with each subtle shift, his body leaning in time with me, his hands imprinting on my hips.
I take him to Route 619, one of my favorite places to ride near my old house. The best bit is when it cuts through the forest park and I slow down as we ride through the trails. It hasn’t snowed in a while, so the roads are safe enough but faint traces of white powder cling to the forest floor and the surrounding trees.
I pull us to a stop by the side of a bridge and take off my helmet.
Eli’s leathers creak behind me as he does the same. He straightens out my braid before pulling me back into his chest. We sit there in silence for a while, neither of us feeling the need to talk. It’s enough just being here with him.
The forest sounds soothe my senses. The soft trickle of snow melting. An occasional scrabble as squirrels dart out into the cold before disappearing again.
I used to come out here a lot to think but I’ve never brought anyone before and I didn’t realize what I was missing. Eli’s steady support behind me sinks into my spine and eventually I feel calm enough to turn and face him.
I swing my leg over so I’m sitting sideways on my bike, but I chicken out of talking about myself and ask him a question instead. “Jude said you used to ride.”
Eli stares out at the creek flowing beneath the wooden bridge. “I did. Learned as soon as I turned sixteen. It was an escape, you know.”
I really do.
Eli’s breath fogs the air as he sighs. “I crashed. Got high one night to numb all the shit I was feeling, took my bike out to where no one was around and drove till I couldn’t see straight anymore.”
My mind revolts against the image of Eli lying splayed on the side of the road. The thought that I could have lost him before I even found him sits like a rock in my stomach. I cup my palm around his cheek and turn him to look at me.
His eyes shine with all the emotion he usually buries under threats and jokes.
“Your neck?” I ask, finally understanding why it’s always causing him pain.
He nods and takes my hand in his. We both took our gloves off to remove our helmets and his fingers rub warmth back into my bones. A little of my frustration with Eli for going along with River’s plan fades away.
“Thank you for putting my old anklet on Allie.”
Eli tilts his head to the side, his lips twisting. “I may have been the one to put the anklet on, but it was River’s idea. He figured if locked rooms triggered you, they probably would trigger your sister too.”
“Oh.”
Eli watches me for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. He grimaces and looks out into the woods. “The first few years after my mother died were the worst.” Grit layers his voice. “My dad started drinking. He didn’t get physical, not really, but the verbal abuse was bad enough. After my mom was gone, he made it abundantly clear that I was never enough for him.”
Rage fires through me, my fingers itching for my knife. I want to have words with Eli’s father. How dare he make Eli feel anything less than utterly loved.
“I don’t think I’d have survived if River hadn’t been there for me.”
My heart hurts for Eli, and my soul—the one I’ve started to doubt I even have—is all twisted up inside. But a tendril of doubt creeps in. “Is this your way of telling me to forgive River?”
Eli braces his hands behind him on the bike and turns to look at me. His dirty blond hair, all scruffy from the helmet, falls across his forehead as he shakes his head. “No. This is me telling you that I know you’re not okay. I don’t think you have been since you found out about Zach and what he did to you.”
My body solidifies, every cell inside of me trapped.
Eli’s serious gaze locks onto mine, a clarity there that never was before. “I’ve been to the dark place, Freya, and it doesn’t get better until you let people in.”
My lips tremble and I only remember to breathe when Eli arranges my braid over my shoulder and tugs on the end of it. “Talk to me.”
Pressure builds under my eyes. I lift a shoulder, a crappy attempt to seem casual and like I’m not coming apart at the seams. “I don’t know what say.”
