I yanked the release and leaned against the fender while he fiddled with a flashlight.He muttered under his breath, metal clanging, before slamming the hood shut again.
“Not starting tonight,” he said flatly.“You should’ve called someone.”
That jab landed sharp.I lifted my chin.“Who, exactly?Ghostbusters?”
“Me.Your dad.Hell, even Junior.Not sit out here like bait.”
“Bait?”My laugh was bitter.“You do remember I lived fourteen years on my own, right?No club watching my back, no one hovering.And I managed just fine.”
He stepped closer, and the shadows deepened the lines of his face.“That was then.You’re back now.Things are different.”
“Different for you maybe,” I shot back.“Not for me.”
Silence stretched between us.My pulse hammered in my ears, but I didn’t look away.Neither did he.
Finally, Mason reached up, unbuckled his helmet, and held it out.“Get your bag.I’m taking you home.”
I stared at it, then at him.“You’re bossy, you know that?”
“Helmet, Adley.”His voice was low, steady, and impossible to argue with.
I snatched it from his hand and muttered, “Fine.”I grabbed my purse, locked the car and buckled the helmet onto my head.
The leather seat was cool under my jeans as I swung on behind him.My knees brushed his hips, and I didn’t know what to do with my arms until the engine rumbled to life and he said, “Hold on.”
I did.
The road blurred under the wheels, and the wind was tearing at my hair.My chest pressed against his back with every curve and bump.Heat radiated through his cut, and no matter how I tried, I couldn’t ignore the way it felt to be that close again.It had been years since I was on the back of a motorcycle.I had missed it.
Not even ten minutes later, the familiar glow of my parents’ porch light cut through the dark.Mason slowed into the driveway, and gravel crunched under the tires.
The light flicked on, and there he was, Dad.Slayer.Arms crossed, shoulders wide, and eyes sharp as blades.
Perfect.
The Harley went quiet, leaving only the tick of cooling metal.I slid off, tugged the helmet free, and my hair stuck out in every direction.My cheeks burned, not from the ride but from Dad’s stare.
“Everything alright?”Dad’s voice was low, even, and carried across the yard.
“Her car broke down,” Mason answered before I could.His tone was calm, but his hand flexed on the handlebar.“I brought her home.”
Dad’s gaze lingered on Mason, then flicked to me.“That so?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, clutching the helmet to my chest.“It just died.I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
Mason held his hand out to me and I gave him the helmet.“Next time, call,” he muttered, and his eyes locked with mine.
I swallowed hard.“Noted.”
He gave Dad a short nod, then cranked back up the bike.The roar filled the driveway, then dwindled as he disappeared down the road with his taillights shrinking into the night.
I stood there, pulse still racing, and wondered if my dad could hear my heart beating.
Dad tilted his head, voice softer now.“You good?”
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile as I walked past him toward the door.“I’m good.”
“I’ll get your car figured out tomorrow,” he promised.
