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A hundred and ten.
One twenty-five…
I couldn’t see because it was too windy. Leaning my forehead against his back, I closed my eyes and held on for dear life.
A sharp right.
Left.
Right again.
My heart pounded out of my chest as he tried his best to lose them. He tapped on my thigh, and I opened my eyes. He silently gestured for me to stand with him, and I adamantly shook my head, immediately mouthing no. It wasn’t until he signaled toward the front of him that I realized why he wanted me to stand with him.
For a split second, I surrendered all control and handed it to him. Squealing as loud as I could, I stood at the same time as he did. Seconds later, he popped a wheelie. I shrieked and locked my arms around his stomach harder than before. I hid my face in his broad, muscular back, praying that we wouldn’t crash. The precision he needed to wheelie the bike through two narrow buildings was a rush of adrenaline I didn’t know I had in me. The sound of the cop slamming on his brakes echoed off the buildings, but he was too late, crashing into the concreate structures.
I looked behind me and shouted, “I think we lost him!” over the roaring motor of his bike.
He nodded and tapped my leg, urging me to sit back down.
He didn’t slow his speed, sharply turning the corner into what appeared to be a hidden back alley. My heart hammered harder against my chest.
What if he was going to hurt me?
Fear crept deep into my pores as he came to a complete stop. The high I felt didn’t let up. One turbulent emotion rolled into another, and I simply reacted, jumping off the bike first. From that instant, he watched my erratic behavior as I backed away from him with my arms out in front of me.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I blurted.
He didn’t say anything as he cocked his head to the side and leaned back against his seat, staring at me through his chrome helmet. I still couldn’t see his face, and the longer he stayed like that, the more my insecurities took over.
However, my rationalization quickly overcame my distress, and I felt bad.
Shaking my head with embarrassment settling deep in my bones, I apologized, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that… I’m just… I’ve never… I mean, I don’t know… Wow… I suck at this.” Inhaling a deep breath, I rambled on, “I’ve never been to a street race before. Or on a wild goose chase with the cops. Not to mention, on the back of some guy’s bike I don’t know.”
He didn’t speak a word.
“If my parents found out I was there or here with you right now, they’d probably never let me leave my house again. I guess what I’m trying to say and failing at is, you really saved my butt back there. I thought I was going get trampled or arrested, and to be honest, I would have taken getting trampled over my parents finding out I lied to them about where I’d be tonight.”
Still no words.
He just sat there all stealth-like.
“You know the longer you just sit there with your helmet on, the more I’m freaking out, right?”
His demeanor didn’t change as he continued to watch me.
“Okay … good talk,” I sarcastically mocked. “Is there anything I can do to thank you for rescuing me?”
I mostly said that to get some sort of reaction out of him, so when he lifted off his helmet, revealing his identity, I instantly regretted my question.
“I can think of a lot of things, but why don’t you start with actually saying thank you.”
“You!” I seethed, feeling foolish.
“If you don’t want to say the words, then I can think of other ways you could show me your appreciation.”
My mouth dropped open, shoving him as hard as I could. “It’s you! Oh my God! You couldn’t have just told me that! I thought you were going to hurt me! Screw you, Tristian!”
“Screw me?”
