“Your car’s still at the shop,” he said.“And I’m not letting you stand in the lot waiting on a miracle.”
I opened my mouth to argue and found… nothing.I had totally forgotten that my car was at the shop.“Fine,” I said, even though it sounded a lot likeyes.
Junior glanced at us as we walked out the door and nodded to Mason.“I’ll lock up.”
We made our way over to his motorcycle and Mason held the helmet out to me.“Let’s go,” he said.
I took it and felt my heart flip.
Mason
I was a fool.
Every time I thought I’d drawn a hard line, I went and erased it myself.First picking her up at the house, then taking the long way to the club, now giving her a ride home because I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else giving her a ride home.
I kept torturing myself, and I had no one to blame but me.
The engine thrummed under me, steady as a heartbeat, and the night opened wide around us.The streets of Weston were quiet.Most storefronts dark, and the stoplights blinking yellow in that tired rhythm small towns fall into after midnight.
We rolled up to a stop sign on the edge of town.That’s when she hollered in my ear, with her voice muffled through the helmet.“Take the long way home!”
I turned my head just enough to catch her eyes.She was grinning.Carefree.God help me.
I should’ve told her no.Should’ve told her I needed to get her off my bike right now, drop her at her front door, and never put myself in this position again.
But the truth?That was the last thing I wanted.
Instead of turning right toward her house, I leaned the bike left and aimed us out past the edge of Weston.
The road narrowed, and fields stretched on both sides.Corn stalks lined up along the ditch and stars shined bright in the sky scattered around the moon.
Her arms were locked around my waist, firm and sure.Every shift of her body, and every press of her chest to my back when we leaned into a curve seared straight through me.
I couldn’t think about anything else.Not the rumble of the engine.Not the empty black ribbon of the road unspooling ahead.Just her.Always her.
We rode in silence for half an hour and looped through backroads I could ride blindfolded.Crickets filled the gaps, and every so often a barn light glowed in the distance like a beacon.She didn’t ask where we were going, and I didn’t tell her.I just let the night carry us.
When I finally turned back toward town, it was later than I realized.We rolled down her street with the little houses lined up neat, and their porches dark.Slayer wasn’t waiting on the steps tonight.I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
I cut the engine in front of her house.The sudden silence was deafening after all that wind.
She swung her leg off, stood, and tugged the helmet free.Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, messy from the ride, and her cheeks were flushed.She held the helmet out to me.“Here.”
“Keep it,” I said, still gripping the bars.“You’re gonna need it tomorrow when I pick you up.”
She froze for a second, and her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but then she nodded and hugged the helmet to her chest.
“Thank you for the ride, Mason.”
I dipped my chin once.“You’re welcome, little dove.”I thumbed the starter, the engine rumbling back to life.She stepped back, but I didn’t pull away.“Get your ass in the house,” I ordered.
Her mouth curled into a smile she tried to hide.She gave me a sassy salute, turned on her heel, and headed up the sidewalk.I watched her climb the porch steps, keys jingling.At the door, she glanced back over her shoulder.I was still sitting there.
She unlocked the door, disappeared inside, and the house went dark again.I waited a few beats, then eased the clutch and pulled away from the curb.
Back to the clubhouse.Back to my empty bed.
I’d finally gotten her off the bike, and what did I do?Told her I’d pick her up tomorrow.
