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Kent and his allergy to tourists. Does he look at me as one? Or did I become an exception the moment I spat ugly words at him after accepting his free funnel cake? I still feel bad about that. “Sounds kinda scary.”
“It isn’t if I’m with you.” Kent lifts his chin, his chest puffed out in such an adorably cocky way. I hate to say it reminds me of Adrian and his overconfidence, but it does, and I’m not entirely sure it’s a bad thing. “I’ll protect you.”
“You’d better. I want to get my full dart’s worth out of you tonight.”
The corner of Kent’s lips curl up, a dimple popping out of his cheek. He is such a sight for sore eyes, it’s practically impossible to believe he’s really here for me. “So? How does that sound, Jonah? Want to come and see the real treasure of Dreamwood Isle?”
I feel like I’ve already found it: he’s standing right next to me. “Yes,” I answer. “I’m ready to see everything.”
Chapter 12 - Kent
A group of teens are loitering in the parking lot of the arcade where I left my bike. I throw a leg over, then hand my helmet to a bewildered Jonah, who says, “Wait a sec. You ride a motorcycle?”
“Motorbike, or motorcycle … whatever you wanna call him. He’s a small beast, but he’s my beast.”
“I love the paintjob. Silver with a lightning-blue streak across the sides. Is it far, where we’re going?”
“We could walk there, but … I thought you might like to go in style.” I give him a wink.
He pops the helmet on, then seems unsure how to get on the bike. He awkwardly thrusts a leg over behind me, then nearly falls off as he situates himself on the seat. “Uh, okay, but … how exactly do I—?”
I take hold of his hands and pull them around my waist like a seatbelt. Then I peer at him over my shoulder. “Like this,” I answer him. “Just lean with me when I turn, and you’ll be alright.”
If helmets could blush.
Then the bike comes to life, roaring between our legs, and I take off.
Jonah’s grip tightens considerably.
Fuck, I love the feeling of him pressed against my back.
Whatever the teens were talking about is interrupted as they look our way, watching us leave the parking lot. I rip the engine as we tear down the road and cut around the corner. I hear Jonah howl with excitement in my ear, like I’ve got a little werewolf clinging to me, and I laugh.
His hands move slightly, and I feel every bit of them. I know he’s just trying to keep hooked onto me to prevent himself from falling, even though I totally wouldn’t let a damned thing happen to him. But the more he moves his hands, the more my mind can’t help but drift. His fingers are just an inch—if that—above my cock, stuffed away in my shorts. Every time he shifts his hands or squeezes tighter, I feel like he’s skirting closer and closer to just hanging on to my dick for the whole ride. I don’t think any part of me would object to that.
The trip is short. Once we make it halfway down the long street that leads to the north pier where Hopewell Harbor and the fair is, I slow down and pull off the road, edging onto a path that cuts through the brush. It’s dark, but my headlight reveals the way as we move down the dirt path. Soon, the town seems far behind us, and we’re surrounded on all sides by nothing but trees, rocks, and an aisle of light from my bike.
The unkempt brush opens up to a narrow, hidden beach, sandwiched between two tall misshapen rocky formations that I hesitate to call cliffs, though that’s pretty much what they are. Atop the left one is a lighthouse all by itself, where the path continues to lead. I cut off the dirt path and head to a patch of gravel where an old truck is parked by a thick, knobby tree that looks like it has no business growing there, with a swing dangling from one of its branches. I park right next to the old truck, shut off the engine, and kick down the stand.
He pulls off the helmet I gave him. “Where are we?”
“You like it so far?”
“This is the secret you were telling me about?”
I nod. “Cottonwood Cove. Best-kept secret on the isle. When I’m overwhelmed with life and need to just … get the hell away from it all … I find my peace again here. Been coming here since I was a kid. Even my brothers don’t come here. Feels like the whole thing belongs to me at certain times of the day.”
“Wow.”
The glow from the moon and the stars is our only company. “This is the corner of the island you probably don’t read about in brochures.”
