He makes this deep sound.
Not quite a laugh.
Not quite a groan.
Something in between.
And for some reason, my entire body responds.
God, help me.
The man hasn't even kissed me, and I'm already acting like a fool.
Maccon City slides past around us.
The lights from the shops.
Families walking along the sidewalk.
Teenagers laughing.
Music spilling out from open restaurant doors.
We take a long, winding road past sand dunes and tall grass, and then, suddenly—the ocean.
Moonlight dances over dark waves.
The boardwalk glows in the distance.
And I can't help smiling.
“Like it?”he calls over his shoulder.
“Very much!”
I laugh as he turns the bike in a tight circle and stops.
“It’s beautiful,” I sigh as I take off the helmet.
He’s got his head turned around, and he’s just watching me with those crazy eyes of his.
“Damn straight.”
“No,” I say and shake my head, “I meant the view.”
“Me too,” he replies.
Now, I snort—because yes, ladies and gents, I am that classy.Do not be jealous.
“The ocean's nice, too,” he says and offers me a hand so I can extricate myself from the bike.
I stumble a little, but he tightens his hold.
His shoulders shake, and I turn around ready to sass him.
But then I see his expression, and he’s not making fun of me—he just looks happy.
“What’re you laughing at punk?”I ask, and his grin turns positively feral.
