He coughs. “Take it easy with my gut, would ya?”
“Oops, sorry!”
“Anyway, don’t panic. Just a little further, then I’ll pull over.”
The motorcycle swerves around a few more curves and slows by a parking area, which overlooks an embankment. At a complete stop, Dax pats my clasped hands, asking, “You good, Sassy?”
I break my hands apart and peel myself off his back. “Super good.”
He chuckles. “That’s what I like to hear.”
I slide off the bike and take in the view. “Is this another one of your favorite spots?”
Dax throws a leg over the bike, reefing off his helmet. He smooths a hand over his scruffy mop of hair and shakes his head. “Nope. It just seems like a good spot for you to take over.”
“What?” I yelp.
He laughs, patting the handlebars. “Come on, admit it. You want to take the lead and drive me around.”
My heart leaps into my throat, and I remove my helmet. “Umm, no. That’s crazy.”
Dax takes my helmet, hanging it on the opposite end of the handlebars. He then digs into his jacket pocket, sliding out his pack of cigarettes.
“Wait,” I say in a wounded tone. “What about the patches?”
He winces, lowering the cigarette pack. “I dunno. You just kinda threw those at me. I need to work up to the idea.”
I frown, edging toward the motorcycle locker. “Won’t you just try one? They’ll still give you a nicotine hit.”
Dax frowns, eyeing the pack in his hand. “Not exactly the same, though, is it?”
“Please?” I tap my fingers against the top of the locker. “Won’t you try?”
Dax huffs, shoving the packet back in his pocket.
“Yay!” I squeal, clapping my hands.
Dax lifts a hand, halting my joy. “Not so fast. I want to make a deal.”
I swallow hard. “What kind of deal?”
He wiggles his eyebrows, smirking. “I’ll put on a patch if you take the bike for a spin.”
“What kind of deal is that?” I protest. “The patches are an attempt at saving your life. What you’re offering could end mine.”
Dax splutters a laugh. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Isn’t it enough that I ride with you?” I counter. “Believe me, it’s the most daredevil thing I’ve ever done.”
Dax leans an elbow on the handlebars, with one leg crossed behind the other in an irresistible James Dean kinda way. “I’m just asking you to up the ante. Can you understand why it’s difficult for me not to light up? I just don’t think a patch will be enough.”
“But it could be?”
Dax smiles in the most delicious way. “And you might just freaking love steering the bike.”
I look up at the sky, letting out a groan. “Okay, I’ll try.”
I look down as Dax pushes off the motorcycle and steps toward me. His arms wrap around me. “That’s my girl.”
