I roll my eyes. “I finally looked it up today when you called me amor and your sisters gave me a look. It means love. You don’t have to pretend you love me, Mateo. I only want you to call me that if you mean it, not as part of our farce.”
Our eyes meet and I can’t look away as a soft smile tilts the corner of his lips up and makes the dimple in his cheek appear. “As you wish.”
That one is almost as bad, but I’ll let it slide. He’s been unbelievably attentive since he picked me up from Momma T’s house.
My hope is high, and although my fears have been assuaged by the hours we’ve spent together, I can’t completely write them off. Mateo thrives here, while I can’t even stand the smell of cows and feeding one.
I don’t know how this is going to work.
I bite my lip, staring at the dirt bike behind him. “Do I have to?”
“Where’s my brave Holly that can shoot down any hot shot A-list actor? She can survive a dirt bike ride, I promise.”
Ugh. It’s unfair how often he knows the right thing to say to help me feel better. I glare at him, which just makes him smile, but he’s cute, so I’ll let it slide. “Fine. But when I die from this thing, you’ll have to tell Alex it’s your fault I’m dead and that I’m haunting you from beyond the grave.”
Mateo’s eyes twinkle. “I’ll practice my ghostly communication skills right away, just for you.”
I shake my head and Mateo smirks as he hands me a helmet. I put it on and lift my chin as Mateo instructs so he can tighten the strap for me. Hisfingers brush the skin on my neck, and tingles erupt, sending goosebumps racing down my skin, chasing away my nerves with the comfort of Mateo’s touch.
Mateo puts on his helmet and climbs on. It turns on and he revs the engine, making me startle. He holds his hand out and I grip it tightly as he talks me through climbing on behind him. He coaches me on where to put my feet as I swing my leg over, straddling the death bike. I sit on the very small seat and wrap my arms around Mateo’s waist.
I am a baby koala. Nothing will pry my arms away from Mateo. I tilt my helmet-covered head to the side and rest my cheek against his back, pulling myself as close to him as possible.
There is nothing holding me to this bike. No seat belts. No cords. Nothing.
This is totally not safe.
I hope he never buys a motorcycle.
Mateo revs the engine again and we lurch forward, exiting the barn doors.
As he drives down a dirt path I try to focus on everything except my fear.
The first thing I notice are the chuckles I feel rumbling through Mateo’s body.
Nope. Can’t get distracted by koalaing him. Definitely can’t get distracted by the abdominal muscles I can feel through his shirt. Nope, nope, nope.
Focus on the scenery, Holly.
Even if Mateo should be the scenery.
The wind whistles through my helmet, cooling my cheeks despite the afternoon heat. I focus on the fields we pass, letting the smell of dirt and hay fill my senses.
We’ve reached the foothills and Mateo turns onto a path that leads upward. I hug him tighter as he leans into turns, driving up the switchbacks. Without him, I would have fallen off on the first turn. He will never hearme admit it, but this is kind of fun.
He will never know.
I regret the thought of enjoyment when we hit the rocky portion of the trail. It’s bumpy, and my stomach churns as we drive up the last portion of the hill.
The five percent of this ride that has been fun has been lowered to four percent.
Mateo slows the bike as we crest the top of the hill. We stop, and dust billows around us. Mateo pops the kickstand on the bike. I don’t move.
He turns his head, but I don’t loosen my grip. “Hey Hols, it’s easiest if you get off first.”
I groan. This is not going to be pretty.
Mateo holds out his hand, and I grip it with mine as I scoot to the side of the seat. I reach down and get the tip of my toes on the ground. Mateo holds me steady and I swing my other leg over, avoiding the exhaust pipe, as I bring my leg down.
