"Nah," I assured him as I stepped back toward the front door of my apartment building and opened it, leaning in to grab what we needed. The wide-eyed look on his face was priceless as I held out one of the two helmets. "But safety first."
"Like fucking hell," he snapped, eyeing the helmet like it had personally offended him.
"What, don't trust me?"
"With the way I saw you drive that fucking thing?"
"What, because I drove it fast? You'll also notice I drove it so well I managed to get away from you, and the damage to it was purely superficial from having to take the uh...back roads."
"You took dirt bike tracks."
"And did it without doing more than scraping my paint. So you tell me if that's the sign of a good driver or not."
"It tells me you're used to driving like a fucking idiot and got good at it."
"Well, there you go."
"That doesn't make it safe."
"Hey, you can't say you want to go to the club and not expect me to think you want to have a night of fun."
"Being on that thing with you driving like a moron is your idea of fun?"
"Look me in the eyes and tell me, in full honesty, that you didn't have at least a little bit of fun trying to chase my ass down that night."
He continued to glare at me for a few heartbeats before letting out a frustrated huff and snatching the helmet. I didn't bother to hide my smug expression as he looked it over and, after realizing it would fit him, gave another noise of annoyance. Then he looked up and saw me watching him with amusement, and his expression darkened. "What?"
I laughed, tucking my helmet under my arm. “Nothing, it's just funny. You really go out of your way to be as difficult as possible about having fun."
"Fuck off," he grumbled, jerking his head. "Go on, show me where you parked."
"Fine, fine," I said, knowing it wasn't a good idea to poke and prod too much. It was his way of relenting and admitting I was right, it was angry and begrudging, but it was relenting all the same. "C'mon then, I get to find out if you loosen up when you drink."
"Seriously? Are you using this as an excuse to get alcohol into me?” he scoffed.
I snorted. “C'mon, I don't get to see you drink, it's always worth seeing at least once in a lifetime."
"It's really not that big a deal," he muttered behind me, and I didn't have to look back to know he was rolling his eyes.
"Then I guess you won't have to worry about drinking tonight," I said with a shrug as we approached my bike. I slipped the keys from my pocket before putting the helmet on and swinging my leg over the bike. "Now c'mon, or we're going to miss the fun as the night picks up."
He stood on the sidewalk, staring at me for a few moments before sighing far more heavily than I thought was necessary. He put the helmet on, adjusting it until he could get the strap underhis chin. It was twisted, and I gestured for him to come closer. He did, albeit warily. I took hold of the strap and gave it a wiggle, my fingers brushing against the layer of stubble. It wasn't quite as good as the feeling of his stubble brushing my thighs when he nipped, nibbled, and licked to try, and usually succeed, at getting a reaction out of me.
"There," I said softly, pulling back and wondering how adjusting a helmet strap could be nearly as intimate as the feeling of him sliding into me. "Now get on, and before you ask, no, this isn't an excuse to get you to wrap those big arms around me."
He sighed wearily and approached the bike. I had to force my head forward so he wouldn't see me trying not to laugh as he took a moment to figure out how to get on the bike. He'd clearly never ridden one before, and he was treating it like open heart surgery. I felt the bike lurch for a moment when he leaned on it with more force than needed, his foot slamming onto the road as he caught his balance.
"Pegs," I called over my shoulder, trying to keep my voice steady.
"What?” he asked, and I knew he was frowning.
"There's pegs to put your feet on," I explained, and waited until he did and realized that yes, he would have to put his arms around me in order to stay upright. It wasn't the first time I'd had someone on my bike, though it wasn't something I commonly did. In what I'm sure could be considered ironic, I let far fewer people on my bike than I did in my bed. I wasn't going to share that particular tidbit with him as he wrapped his arms around me, hesitating and then wrapping them tighter when I turned the bike on with a pleasant roar and leaned to knock my heel into the kickstand.
"Ready?" I asked, still conscious of how cautious he was, but eager to get moving.
"Quit fussing," he grumbled, and I took that for the cue I needed to get moving. If I took too long, not only would I get impatient, but Jace would get even more cranky, making him think I was trying to 'baby' him. "Go."
"Yeah, yeah," I said with a snort, making sure I wasn't going to pull out into traffic and end the night with our bodies smeared on the road. I'd already courted death enough times in my life, I didn't want to invite the bastard all the way in. Once I could see it was safe, or safe enough anyway, I pulled back on the throttle and roared onto the road. I thought I heard a noise of complaint from Jace, but other than that, his arms tightened, and I felt him press against my back as the bike began to move.
