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I ran to the smaller framed bike and adjusted the seat to my height. Then I swung my leg over and squeezed the handles in my palms.
Perfect.
Pierce was saying something to Joe out of my earshot, then he turned to me. “Wanna go for a ride?”
“Where to?”
“We can head up the canyon. Joe will stand by with his cellphone in the vicinity in case we are mobbed.”
“What about helmets?”
“Got them covered.” Pierce clicked his fingers, and the guard came forward with two Casco Bells. “Let’s set off before the heat builds up and it gets too crowded. We can spend the rest of the day chilling by the pool.”
I grinned like an idiot. “Sounds like a plan.”Chapter 7PierceI’d ridden a bike as a kid, but only on the rain-soaked streets of London. Riding on a dirt track was way more fun. Hayley had given me some tips, like keeping my body loose so my Kona could move beneath me, reminding me to go easy on the brakes to avoid the bike sliding—which would have catapulted me over the bars and onto the ground—and telling me to keep my eyes fixed on where I wanted to go. The latter instruction sprang to mind as I swept my gaze over Yankee Girl’s ass. Tight jeans hugged her peachy bum as she peddled in front of me up the trail. She’d biked here before, she’d said, and knew the way.
Fuck, she was fit. Physically as well as in the looks department. I prided myself on my endurance and high tolerance for exercise pain—despite the abuse I’d heaped on my body—thanks to weightlifting. But this ride was something else. I felt alive. Healthy. Wellbeing seared every muscle and fiber of my body…I was on fucking fire, and I liked it. The wind whipped across my face. Sweat beaded my brow, and I let out a “Whoop” of pure exuberance.
At the top of the trail, Hayley pulled up and jumped off her bike. I followed suit and we drank from our water bottles to slake our thirst.
“That was cool beyond words,” I said, my chest heaving as I took in gulps of air.
Without warning, my legs bucked, and I reached for Yankee Girl to steady myself. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Need to rest a little.” I glanced around for somewhere we could sit. Somewhere we wouldn’t be noticed by the public. There weren’t that many people about. A few hikers and dogwalkers. If anyone recognized me, I’d have to pose for a selfie, though, and it would mean being thrown back into the reality of my rock star existence.
A reality I’d like to avoid for now.
I indicated toward a narrow path leading a small distance down the hillside behind a rocky outcrop. “Let’s head that way. We can take a break and look at the view.”
We pushed our bikes along the track and found a grassy knoll, where we laid them on their sides.
“I thought the panorama from your decking was amazing.” Hayley removed her helmet, sat and hugged her knees. “But this is even better.”
I parked my bum on the grass next to her and took off my helmet. “We’re higher up here, so we can see further.”
She pointed toward the city. “I grew up there. LA is my home. I love traveling but I also love coming back.” She turned and smiled into my eyes. “Do you miss England?”
The question caught me by surprise, and I had to think momentarily. “Not much. The weather sucks most of the time. And I hate the attention of the tabloid press whenever we visit.”
“How about your parents? Don’t you miss them?”
“I saw them when we were in London two years ago. We’re not close,” My tone was blunt, and I hoped she wouldn’t pursue the matter.
She angled her heart-shaped face close to mine, and I found myself fascinated by the golden lights in her amber irises.
Her eyelashes fluttered and she caught her lip between her teeth.
Fuck, I wanted to kiss her. Would she be up for it?
Only one way to find out.
I leaned in and our eyes locked. Her pupils dilated, and I took that as a ‘yes.’
My lips brushed hers, and I eased her into the kiss, soft but firmly, without hesitation. My teeth toyed with her bottom lip, and I sucked on it. I pressed my mouth down, waiting for her to open for me. When she did, I slipped my tongue inside and captured hers with mine.
God, she tasted good. Our tongues rolled together in a slow dance without rhythm or pace. She slid her fingers into my hair, moaning, and I held her in place with my hand around the nape of her neck while I groaned into her mouth.
She pulled back with a gasp.
“What’s wrong?”
“We can’t do this.”
“It’s just kissing.” I shot her a pleading look. “Didn’t you like it?”
