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“Did you say Dove?”
He frowns down at the phone, then puts it back on his nightstand.
“Seth,” he says.
I nod. I’ve heard him mention his friend before.
I wonder why the name Dove made me feel so weird just now. Maybe I’m just tired and delirious.
We go to sleep together. The next morning, we go into town on his Harley—me wearing the helmet he gr
abbed me the other day—and look at the studio again.
“What do you think?” he asks me with his big hands in his pockets.
“I like it. It’s in a good location.”
I go use the restroom and when I come back, he’s hanging up with Mallorie.
“I’m making an offer.”
I squeal and he swings me around the empty space.
“You want to ride bikes home?”
“Um…huh?”
“You told me you used to love to ride your bike. When’s the last time you had a bike?”
“I don’t even know.”
“Let’s get some. On me.”
I laugh. “That’s crazy?”
“And?” He grins and kisses my nose. “C’mon. Any color you want. There’s a bike shop half a block away.”
“You and your GPS.”
“You think it’s hot,” he teases.
I giggle. “I totally do.”
Holding hands, we walk down the block and exit the bike shop with matching royal blue Giant bikes. Barrett’s got a charcoal helmet; mine is lime green.
“You think we should ride these home?”
He laughs. “Gwen. How else will we get them there?”
“We could stash them in the studio?”
“The one we don’t own yet?” My heart leaps a little. “We.”
His fingers grip my chin loosely. “I know you’re not scared of a little bike ride.”
“It’s on a big road. What if someone hits us?”
“There’s a wide bike lane. I looked. I’ll ride on the outside.”
