“I wasn’t worried. I rode with Dad a few times, back when he still raced.”
Ash gave me a half-smile that only made the flutters worse. “Only a few?”
“He was always busy. Mom drove me most places. I like bikes, though. Cars are just more practical for what I need.”
“What do you need?”
His eyes found mine, steady, like he had all the time in the world. He made no move to start the engine, and I didn’t mind. At home, he’d vanish into his room, I into mine, and days could pass without us speaking.
I wasn’t ready to admit—even to myself—how much I liked talking to him. Living with two people who barely noticed me left me starved for company.
“You know what?” Asher asked after the silence stretched too long. “Why don’t we go somewhere before heading home?”
Did he actually want to spend time with me? I told myself not to get excited, but it was too late—my mind had already conjured images of us strolling through the park under yellow streetlights, and warmth bloomed in my chest.
“We could,” I said. “But where?”
Ash exhaled. “Shit. You’ll have to help me out, peque. I don’t know this village well enough yet.”
“Hey!” I punched his bicep—hard and solid. “Stetbourg isn’t a village.”
“Isn’t it? How many people live here?”
I adjusted my backpack straps. “I’ll tell you in the park. That’s where I want to go. It won’t be crowded this late.”
Damn it. That sounded like I wanted him to take me somewhere private. Lucky for me, he didn’t notice—or pretended not to.
Ash put on his helmet, and I strapped on the one he’d given me.
After fastening mine beneath my chin, I watched him swing his leg over the bike. “Okay,” he said. “Sit behind me and wrap your arms around my waist. I won’t go fast, but I’d rather you didn’t fall.”
Crap.
Now I had to bridge the distance between us and touch him. Swallowing the knot of nerves, I climbed on. His muscles tensed when I hugged his waist—probably too tightly. If I didn’t rein in my nerves, this would get awkward fast.
Once I explained the way, Asher started the bike, and we merged into the heavy evening traffic. My body hummed with the vibration of his back pressed to my front, his heat seeping through the layers between us.
He wove through cars with practiced ease, leaving them behind. Barely ten minutes later, we pulled into the park and climbed off his Kawasaki. I wouldn’t have minded riding longer.
“So,” he said as we strolled down an empty path, “why a car instead of a bike? And what’s Stetbourg’s population?”
I tucked my cold hands into my coat pockets. “Well, a car has a trunk.”
“You scare me, peque.” His eyes narrowed. “Whose body are you planning to hide?”
A laugh slipped out. “Yours, if you don’t behave.”
His lips twitched as he nudged leaves aside with his foot. “I’ll behave.”
“¿Me lo prometes?”Promise?
He stopped short. “Wow. Your pronunciation’s amazing. How come my mother never mentioned you speak Spanish so well?”
I shrugged. “She doesn’t know.”
Asher stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “But you’ve lived under the same roof for five years.”
Another shrug, and I kept walking. The crunch of leaves underfoot and our breathing filled the quiet.
