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I pull on my jacket and tug my black boots over my fluffy socks.
“I’ll have her back by eleven,” Carter says, looking only slightly intimidated.
I pat Stanley on the chest and I laugh when he hands me my mace spray which I tuck into the front pocket of his shirt. “I’ll be fine.”
“Ten,” Stanley snaps looking me up and down. He doesn’t know I’m in my pajamas because of my jacket. I imagine he’d tell me to get dressed otherwise.
“Ten thirty,” Carter haggles and I can’t believe he did that. Neither can Stanley whose thundering gaze only gets scarier. “Okay, ten. I promise.”
Stanley nods and I tense when he tugs on my twisted hair and utters a gruff, “Stay out of trouble, kid.”
Carter leads me from the house and to his bike.
“When you said bike, I thought you meant a motorbike. Where’s your car?” I look at the bicycle and press my lips together.
“Funnily enough, it’s in Stanley’s body shop for a tune up and new tires.”
“Right,” I breathe and continue staring at the matte black frame. “I don’t have one, so I can’t ride with you.”
“That’s fine, you can hop on the handlebars.”
“What?”
He grins and swings his leg over the seat. “I need the exercise; the extra weight will help. Get on, you can trust me.”
“If we crash or fall, I will kill you.” I have no idea how to do this.
Somehow, with his help, I maneuver my ass onto the bar of the handles and hold tight with a panicked squeak. He laughs and starts to move along the bumpy driveway, kicking the ground first for speed.
We start off a bit wobbly, but when he gains pace, we level out and I start to breathe again.
“This is insane,” I yell, cheering with glee when we go downhill. My cheer becomes a scream and his laughter gets louder in my ear. My back presses against his chest and between his strong arms as his legs pedal and push us onwards. The wind whips across my face, making my eyes water, and his smooth cheek rests against my own. It’s the only way he can see where he’s going.
His breath comes out in sharp blasts, it’s minty and sweet. Like he’s been chewing gum or Mentos.
“This is fun,” I call out, “but it’s starting to bruise my butt. Are we nearly there?”
“Nearly,” he takes a sharp turn down a secluded road and my heart starts to race.
“Wait,” I say and he slows slightly. “Where are we going?”
“To my place,” he answers, smiling against my cheek. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. I have a studio in our old barn. Hasn’t had livestock since my granddaddy’s last cow Betsy made her way to his dinner table. My pa went into computers, so we had no need for it.”
“That’s so sad. Poor Betsy.”
He chuckles in my ear and we finally come to a clearing where a large A-frame house sits in the middle of a vast expanse, lit up like the Fourth of July.
“Are you going to introduce me to your family?”
“They’re not in. They just leave the lights on in case of burglars.”
“That’s smart,” I admit as he bikes towards a dark barn.
We get off the bike, scale the fence, though he leaves his bike on the other side. Then we pull open the large doors and he flicks on the light. He was right when he said this is a basic dance studio now. The barn walls are like any typical wooden barn, but the place is well lit, there are large mirrors on the left and right side, and the floor is solid but padded with blue like the one in school. There’s a mini fridge, too, full of water I soon learn when he twists the cap off a bottle and drains half of it in a few gulps.
“Fuck, that was a rush,” he breathes, pouring the rest of the water over his face and shoulders.
Then he starts to strip, removing his jeans and shirt so he’s only in his boxer briefs and wife-beater. “I can’t train in denim and I can’t be bothered to go and get my joggers.”
“Did you not consider that before coming for me?” I murmur, but truth be told, he is really nice to look at. Alice was right when she said his dick is huge. Just his bulge is intimidating. I wonder what it’s like hard. Then I shake that thought loose and think of other things.
“I wasn’t home when I decided to come for you, I was with Presley.” He yanks on my collar. “Take off your jacket.”
I do as I’m told and drop it by his clothes.
He stretches, bending forward until his face touches his shins. He’s so flexible, like me, maybe even more so. It’s incredibly sexy and surprisingly a lot more masculine than people usually think. The strength of his body is evident in every groove of every muscle that’s visible, and trust me when I say all of his muscles are visible and defined.
