“Jesse needed it.Come on, I promise I'll go slow.”
I growled under my breath but conceded, straddling the bike with a lot more ease than the first time.He made a point to grab my arms and wrap them tight around his waist—and I made a point of ignoring the shocks that ran through me when his thumb brushed over mine.
“Hold on,” he murmured, and minutes later, we were on the road.
My hands were gripping his jacket, his back warm against me, the city lights streaking past like falling stars.Begrudgingly, the ride wasn't so bad.He kept his promise and drove carefully, only picking up speed on the highway toward the bridge.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled into Cicero Landing, the little strip right off the Kingston Bridge.We weaved through the people crowding the bricked street until we came to a stop.String lights draped from tree to tree, glowing like suspended fireflies under the night sky.
Jaxon cut the engine and slid off before turning to help me off.“Been here before?”
I shook my head, taking it all in.
“In that case”—his voice softened—“welcome to Cicero Landing.”
The moment he pulled the helmet away, the lights seemed to flare brighter.The atmosphere was warm, festive, and inviting.Music spilled from open patios, laughter rose from clusters of strangers, and the air smelled like fried street food, cinnamon, and spiced beer.
It was… beautiful.
“Used to come here all the time with my sister.”There was a flash of something tender there, something rare, before he cleared his throat and tugged my hand.“Come on.Let’s eat.”
I expected him to drop my hand, but he laced our fingers together instead.My pulse tripped, eyes dipping to our hands, then to him.Jaxon didn't even seem phased; it was as if this was the most natural thing in the world for him.He didn’t look at me, just guided us through the crowd like he’d done it a hundred times.
Two shirtless men shimmied their way toward us trying to drag us into their dance; I laughed and shook my head as Jaxon shielded me effortlessly, steering me through the flow of people.
The further in we went, the more inviting it felt.Colorful accent lighting paved the way for us, illuminating the foliage on the right along with the bricked pathway.I could see the water from here, and the people walking along the waterfront.
We wandered beneath a canopy of crisscrossing lights until the path opened into a small food bar made from repurposed shipping containers.Dark turquoise stacked over burnt-orange metal steel, both washed in waves of neon—magenta spilling down one side, cyan tracing the seams like soft electricity.
It was loud and alive: laughter spilling from benches, people leaning over rails, passing bites from flimsy paper trays, music humming from a speaker tucked in a corner.
Jaxon stepped up beside me, palm settling at my lower back with easy familiarity—as if he'd been doing that for years.My body followed his lead, though, and I felt myself slowly relaxing to his touch.He angled me toward the chalkboard menu overhead.
“What are you feeling for?”
I scanned the colorful scribbles, squinting at the pun-heavy names while the couple before us finished their order.
“The Feck and Deck?”I muttered.
He huffed a laugh.“Their take on fish and chips.They get creative.Last week they had ‘Cluck Off’ chicken bites.”
The couple walked away with their trays.The server leaned forward, pen poised.
“What can I get ya?”
Jaxon looked down expectantly at me.
“Um—” I peered past her shoulder at the hotdogs on the roller.“I’ll take one of those.No mayo.”
“Make that two,” Jaxon added, pulling out his wallet and handing over a twenty dollar bill.“Mine with the works.And the Donny fries.Two sodas.”
I folded my arms.“I can pay for my own food.”
“I know you can.”He shot me a sideways look, half challenge, half heat.“Just not when you're with me.Boyfriend 101, sweetheart.”
My heart did a very unreasonable flip, and I tried to hide it by staring intensely at the roller.
“You’re letting that title go to your head,” I said as the trays slid across from us.
