Page 29 of Naz & Roz

TEN

Naz might have kept driving past the small roadside breakfast truck despite how hungry he was simply because he was loving the way Roz had wrapped her arms around his body, and was squeezing for all she was worth. He didn’t think it was from fear, either. He had comms set up in the helmets, but he’d kept them shut off. So, the drive had been quiet between the two of them. He didn’t really need words when he could feel her, though.

At the sight of the brightly colored food truck parked where it did every morning—never failed—, Naz pulled the sportsbike off the road smoothly. Even as he found a spot to park the bike, shut off the engine, and dropped down the kickstand, Roz still didn’t let him go.

It was only once he tugged off his helmet did her arms finally unravel from around his middle. He stepped off the bike, and turned to help her with her own helmet. Her mess of wavy hair spilled around her shoulders, and a bright smile lit up her face.

Naz laughed. “Fun, right?”

Roz made a noise. “I mean … scary might be a better word. At first, anyway.”

“I thought you weren’t scared of the—”

“I wasn’t.” She poked him right in the middle of his chest, making Naz laugh when she mock glared. “And then you had to go and pop up on one tire twice.”

“I had to hit the fuel! You know, to get the fuck out of the way of people trying to cut in front of us.”

She gave him another one of those looks. Naz only shrugged. He actually wasn’t lying. That was the thing about driving a bike on the highway. Fucking nobody looked for a bike. They just merged without looking, and a bike rider had to be careful.

Dress for the fall, not the ride.

There was a reason that whole saying had come about, after all.

“They don’t look for us, is all,” Naz said. “So, defensive driving it is.”

Roz sighed, and smiled but still looked away from him like she didn’t know what she wanted to do with him in that moment. Naz didn’t blame her. Half the time, he didn’t know what in the hell he wanted to do with himself.

So was his life.

Reaching out, he caught one of her stray waves of hair between his forefinger, and thumb. He curled the strand around his finger just because he could. Damn. He hadn’t realized how soft and silky her hair was. He had the strongest urge to just thrust both of his hands into those waves, grab tight, and fucking kiss her.

He didn’t know what she would think of that.

He settled for tucking the strand behind her ear, and then he pulled away. But not before letting his fingertips drift over the shell of her ear, and then across her cheek, too. It pulled a sweet, soft smile from her lips as her sky-blue eyes turned back on him again. Her teeth cut into those pink lips as she watched him for a moment.

“It was fun, though,” she murmured.

Naz smirked. “I know. Anytime you want a ride, baby, you let me know.”

He hadn’t realized how the words could be taken in different ways until they left his mouth, but hey, it was out there now. There was no fucking taking it back. Besides … it wasn’t a goddamn lie, either.

Roz’s cheeks pinked with just a touch of color. “Will do. So, are we taking a break for a minute before we get back on the road, or …?”

“Nope.”

“No?”

Naz turned so he could rest against the bike while Roz was still straddling the back seat. He pointed to the food truck just across the road from where he had parked. Famous for its sugary breakfast treats, the truck—one of several across the United States for this company—only made food from five till eleven in the morning, and then they shut down for the day. They were so popular, and the food was so good that they had a social media following that rivaled celebrities.

Already, there was a line of people for the truck going all the way down the road. People didn’t mind waiting to get their fill. Some even traveled quite a ways just to get a taste of whatever the food truck made.

And this particular truck?

Well … Naz knew the guy.

Old friends.

Roz gave him a look. “I thought you were taking me out somewhere to eat.”