“Well,” I mumble, fishing behind the door frame where I keep the spare, “I usually never have anyone with me.” I turn and hold out the matte black helmet. “Wear this.”
Her nose wrinkles as she stares down at it. “What?”
I jerk my chin toward the curb. “This.”
She follows my gaze and gasps.
My BMW S1000RR gleams under the streetlamp, with black matte shimmering beneath the light, and a leather seat worn from years of rides that always ended with me alone.
Her hand flies to her chest, eyes wide. “Reed Hayes. You ride a motorcycle?”
“Yeah,” I say simply, pressing the helmet into her hands.
“Oh my God.” She laughs, the sound bright and bubbling. “That’s-that’s hot. I did not expect that.”
Warmth spreads up the nape of my neck. I look away, hoping she doesn’t catch me blushing, and slide on my gloves. “Put it on.”
She fumbles, her cheeks flush as she gets it settled. Then she tilts her head at me, a smile tugging at her lips. “What about you? Aren’t you supposed to wear one, too?”
I stand near my bike, my boots solid against the pavement, and meet her gaze head-on. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”
Her grin falters, softening into something different, something that makes my chest crack. She blinks, and I really look at her, noticing the way the inner corner of her eyes swells with the faint hint of tears, but she quickly brushes that off.
Silence stretches between us, and for once, I don’t mind it as long as it’s with her.
I take her in, analyzing her as she fixes the helmet on her head.
The helmet looks too big on her as she fumbles with it. She laughs softly, trying again, hair spilling around her shoulders. Sunshine incarnate, sitting on a cracked Ruby Ridge sidewalk, making even the asphalt seem worth smiling about.
“Got it,” she announces, tugging the helmet on fully, and all I can see are her crystal blue eyes.
I don’t trust my voice, so I nod, swinging my leg over the bike, and settle onto the worn leather seat. My bike roars to life as I turn the key, vibration crawling up my arms.
Layla steps closer, tentative for the first time tonight.
I glance over at her, steadying myself as I reach out myhand. She hesitates before grabbing mine. Once our hands touch, it feels like her hands were always meant to be intertwined with mine.
She swings her leg across, climbing onto the back of me. The duffel rests awkwardly between us until she adjusts, pressing closer.
Letting go of my hand, she readjusts until both her arms wrap around my waist.
The air leaves my lungs all at once. My scars flare under my flannel, but the warmth of her touch cuts through it. Her chest presses against my back, her legs bracketing mine, and I swear I can feel her heartbeat pounding through both of us.
She leans in close, her helmet brushing against the back of my shoulder. “Okay, Reeed,” she yells, mumbling over the rumble, “don’t kill me, alright?”
The laugh that escapes me is quiet, buried in the roar of the engine. “You’ll be fine.”
She gasps dramatically. “Fine?That’s not very reassuring!”
I can’t help it, I smirk as I twist the throttle, the bike growling low. “Hold on tight.”
The tires grip the pavement as we move forward, the night air rushing cold against my face. Her grip tightens instantly, her arms wrap around me as her body presses close to mine.
Cool wind whips, tugging at her laughter when it escapes, muffled through the helmet but loud enough to wrap around me. She points at the stars with her hand before clutching me tighter again, squealing when I take a curve.
Every bump in the road pulls at my scars, pain eruptingin jagged lines. But I barely notice, not when she’s holding onto me like I’m the only steady thing in the world.
Her head rests briefly against my back, and it unravels me. The weight I’ve carried for years feels just a little lighter, like she siphons some of it away without even realizing.
