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“You have a point.”
She nodded, smiling wide, because she knew she’d already won me over. With an offered hand, she said, “I have one more thing I think will help me make things up to you.”
I took her hand—the nerves in my palm were on fire, running up and down my forearm. When our fingers interlocked, Sage gave me a gentle squeeze.
“You don’t have to do anything,” My voice sounded dreamy. What was happening? How did I switch from wanting Sage to fall off the face of the Earth to needing her to never let me go, no matter the impracticality?
“I want to,” she said. “Besides, it’ll be fun. I’ve never ridden on the back of my own bike.”
I blinked, quickly coming back down. “What?”
Her eyes danced. “I’m going to teach you how to ride my bike.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sage
It's possible I’m not always the best judge of character. With that logic, my blind spots would extend to guessing what people would and would not like.
Ever since the Art Center, I’d seen Noah eyeing my bike. She’d never been interested enough to ask questions, but the intensity in her staring led me to one conclusion: she would be interested in driving it. As soon as we got to my bike in the parking lot, though, I realized I'd made a mistake.
Noah’s hand was still in mine. I didn’t know if she realized it, but her nails started to dig into my skin.
“You’re not into this?” I asked, unable to mask my surprise.
She frowned and looked at me, then the bike, then me again. “No. Driving that thing? Not at all. Why would you think I’m into it?”
I laughed a little, trying hard to keep my tone light-hearted. I was serious about making her feel safer around me. Step one in that process would be to realize when to jeer and when not to jeer. The process would be long and difficult. I’d give it everything I had, though, because whatever was happening between us felt good, better than art had in a while—and damn, did I hate even thinking that. I’d never been overly emotional or expressive when it came to romance. There were no “melting into puddles” or “heart-shaped eyes” in my inner world. But even if the feeling in my belly wasn’t poetic or all-consuming, somehow, I knew it was as important as any of those things.
“You’re always admiring it,” I said with a shrug.
Noah laughed. “No, I’m not.”
“You stare at it any time I pull up.”
“I’m staring at you, Sage. Not the bike.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip, trying not to get too cocky. “I didn’t realize.”
“I can’t drive a motorcycle,” she said. “Do you know how anxious I am? And how dangerous they are?”
“Yes, and yes.”
She gave me a look.
“What? I do.”
“Then why would I get on one, Sage?”
“Because they’re fun and I own one and I’m willing to teach you.”
She huffed out a laugh. “With my luck, I’ll crash before getting out of the parking lot.”
“Come on. You'd at least make it to your first stop light."
Noah scoffed. "Encouraging."
“I won’t try to convince you to drive." I let go of her hand, missing its pressure as I went to my bike. "But will you be my passenger?”
