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Good was relative. Grandmas were good. Twenty percent off sales on my favorite shade of lip gloss were good. Collin was good — at being bad. There was a major difference.

“Sure, Mom. Now, can I go? He’s probably already waiting for me.”

Her lips twisted in uncertainty. I shot her a pleading look, pulling out the puppy dog eyes. That seemed to do it. With a laugh, she threw a fortune cookie at my head and gestured toward the door.

“Fine, go. You’re nearly an adult, anyway. It’s not like I can control you for much longer.”

“As if you could ever control me,” I replied with a grin, relieved to no longer be getting the third degree. I never was any good at interrogations.

“You’re right.” Her smile faded into a far-off gaze of remembrance. “But I’m sure going to miss you when you leave me.”

Her words hit me right in the gut. I paused at the door, taking in the image of my mother sadly staring off into space and Lexi obliviously eating her fried rice on the other side of the table. While my newly appointed position on the cheerleading squad seemed to have cheered Mom up a bit, I still caught her in moments like these. Moments where she’d be lost thinking of happier times. It killed me to see her like that. It was like her face was crumpling in on itself.

“I won’t be late,” I said softly, grabbing my purse to strap it over my shoulder. “Love you.”

She snapped out of her trance and smiled at me. “Be careful, sweetie. Love you, too.”

I held onto her words as I left the apartment building, my concerns about Collin and the plans he had for me a distant worry at the moment. At least, that was until I heard the roar of a motorcycle and witnessed a figure speeding onto my street dressed in a leather jacket and helmet. Right on time.

Collin slowed to a stop by the curb, put down his kick stand, and pulled off his helmet. “Ready to go?” he shouted, grinning at me.

I gulped, all sorts of strange feelings bubbling back up in my stomach. For some reason, I was as nervous as if this had been a first date. In fact, it’d taken me nearly an hour to pick out my wardrobe for this mysterious event. My jeans and soft cotton tunic top with the lacy hem had felt right at the time, but now I was second guessing myself. Should’ve gone with the leather leggings. Leather leggings went with anything — even a bad boy on a motorcycle.

“Where are we going?” I asked, inching toward him. My family’s apartment building was close enough to a few shopping centers, a couple restaurants, and the library. I’d been wondering all day where he would take us.

Reaching behind himself, he pulled out an extra helmet and turned back to me. On his lips he wore a grin that held a bit of a challenge in it. His brown eyes flicked over my body and then came back to rest on my face. The intensity in his gaze made warmth spread over my face. “Get on. You’ll see soon enough.”

My stomach dropped into my feet. There was no way. No way that I’d get on the back of his motorcycle. Was he crazy?

I hugged my purse closer to my chest. “We can’t just walk there?”

He laughed. “Not if you want to get there and back before midnight. Come on, we don’t want to miss our time slot. We’re on a very strict schedule.”

Chewing on my lower lip, I glanced up and down the street. Lexi would’ve snatched up this opportunity as the perfect reason why Mom should get us a car. If I’d had a vehicle of my own, I wouldn’t have been forced to get on the back of a boy’s motorcycle. Still, the reckless part of me wondered what it would be like. I’d seen plenty of girls ride on the back of Collin’s motorcycle. They all seemed to be alive today. Maybe it was safe enough.

“Fine.” I tugged the helmet out of his hands and shoved it on my head, tucking in the stray strands of hair that pressed against my neck. “But follow the speed limit and no wheelies. Got it? This better be worth it.”

He chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Deal. Now get on before you change your mind and chicken out.”

Obviously, he could read enough of my mind to know what I’d been thinking. Hopefully, not enough to know exactly how much my body thrilled at the prospect of being so close to him. Swinging my leg carefully behind his torso, I straddled the bike and gripped the seat.

It was my first time on such a motor vehicle. Usually, I preferred the concept of four walls surrounding me as I hurled down an asphalt strip at neck-breaking speeds. The idea of riding this death contraption was beginning to make me sweat.

“You have to put your arms around my waist,” Collin said over his shoulder, pulling his helmet on. “Don’t want you falling off the back.”

I gulped, feeling a surge of nerves. Maybe from the threat of falling off the bike or possibly from his suggestion to touch him, I couldn’t tell. But my arms wrapped gently around his torso and I kept them loose. As if he could read my mind again, he grabbed both of my arms and tugged me firmly toward him until my chest was pressed up against his back and my arms tightly encircled around his waist.

“Don’t let go,” he yelled, before kicking the starter.

I was pretty sure I couldn’t have let go even if I wanted to. The moment that engine roared to life, my heart jumped into my throat. My arms tightened involuntarily even more around Collin and I buried my face in his jacket.

Despite my initial freak out, the steady movement of his abdomen against my arms as he breathed steadied my nerves. I tried not to marvel at the feel of his hard muscles beneath my hands, the scent of his cologne heavy in the air, or the utter lack of space between us. It was all making me feel very light-headed and I refused to swoon off the back of his bike.

We shot forward and I suppressed a squeal. Weaving effortlessly through traffic, Collin directed us toward the outside of town where farm land and urban sprawl blended together. On the very edge was a shabby old wooden building with a blinking pink neon sign that read Dwight’s. Collin pulled into the busy parking lot and rolled us to a stop, once again putting out the kick stand. As soon as I could, I released my death grip on him and whipped off the helmet.

“How was that, raccoon girl?” he asked, as he took off his helmet to reveal effortlessly cool tussled hair. “Admit it, you liked it.”

“Maybe.”

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