AllFreeNovel
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Someone bangs on the door. “We gotta clear the building, man.”
“On my way,” Griffin yells back. “Can’t stay here, Sunday School.” Is that my nickname now? I hate it. Little dove was much better. “The venue is closing up.”
He moves away, and I miss his heat. My fault, I guess. “Thanks for...” I don’t even know what I’m going to say.
“You ever been on a bike?”
“Like a bicycle?”
Big scary rock star glowers at me, his eyebrow raised. “Motorcycle, Mallory. Have you ever been on one?”
“No.” I can’t even imagine it.
“Let’s go.”
“Don’t you guys have to go to the next city or whatever?”
“Usually, yeah. But tonight was our last show for a while. Most of the guys are staying in the hotel and flying home tomorrow.”
He hustles me out the back where someone is watching his “bike.” Oh God. I can’t get on it. No way. Motorcycles are dangerous. My parents will kill me if the motorcycle doesn’t.
“What if I get hurt?”
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He hands me a helmet and takes off his leather jacket, putting me in it.
It feels like being held by him. His scent wraps around me like a warm blanket. I feel safe and protected, but also dangerous and wild.
“My skirt,” I say, referring to my pencil skirt, which is not conducive to straddling a bike. Or the hips of a man kissing you against a wall, but he made that work, didn’t he?
“Hike it up.”
Hike it up?
As Griffin revs up the engine, I hike up my skirt, the leather seat cold against my thighs when I straddle the seat behind him. I wrap my arms around his waist, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. The wind whips through my hair as we speed down the empty road, the city lights a blur around us.
This freedom is exhilarating, but it’s also terrifying. I’ve never felt so alive and yet so close to death at the same time. Griffin’s body vibrates against mine, and as the bike leans into a turn, he shifts his weight and my breasts press against his back.
The adrenaline rush is incredible, and when we finally stop, I’m surprised to find that my fear has completely vanished. We have arrived at a park, and Griffin helps me off the bike. My legs are shaking.
He takes my hand and leads me to a bench. We sit for a while, not talking, just enjoying the night. When he finally speaks, it’s a little startling.
“Do you still want to get to know me?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He takes my hand and I know I’m in trouble.
“I was born in—”
“The stuff I can’t read on Wikipedia.”
“Jesus, woman. So you just expect me to open a vein on this park bench?”
I laugh. “No. Not necessarily. But, also, yes.”
He looks out at the night for so long I start to think he isn’t going to answer. “I haven’t been able to write music in over a year.”
Does he mean writer’s block?
“Why not?” I ask, curious.
