I needed to do this.
“Can you pick me up?”
It was even more audacious than saying I would come over. But…
“Sure. At your place?”
No, no, that could not happen. But that wasn’t a difficult problem to overcome.
“There’s a 7-11 right down the road from my neighborhood. I’ll head over there now.”
I didn’t need Brock to answer to know that he’d be coming. I grabbed my phone, stuffed it into my jeans, and headed out of my house.
* * *
Brock arrived at the same time I did to the 7-11. I felt like a teenager sneaking out of her parents’ house, only I was six years past being a teenager. Shit, I really did need my own place.
When Brock pulled up, he was wearing a black leather jacket, dark, tight jeans, and a white undershirt. He looked at me with those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, and I almost kissed him right there. It wasn’t like we had any more pretenses.
“Ready?” he said.
I couldn’t speak. I was… this was…
Yeah, I was.
I didn’t say a word. Brock reached under him, lifted an extra helmet out of the seat, and handed it to me. I put it on, my fingers shaking. I walked over to Brock, put my hands on his shoulders, and swept my leg left leg over the back of the bike.
“Be gentle,” I mumbled. “I’ve never done this before.”
Brock nodded.
“It’ll probably feel scary at first, but just hold on tight. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what.”
I believed him. More than anyone else in this world, when Brock said something, I believed it. He might not have been the classiest man or the most “by the book,” but he got shit done.
“Last chance,” he said.
I shook my head.
“Again, hold on tight, and whatever you do, do not let go.”
I nodded.
The engine roared to life.
It felt like a raging bull had kicked to life between my legs. My stomach sank as my nerves overpowered me. What, seriously, what the fuck was I doing? This was so dangerous! People died daily in motorcycle accidents, and—
Brock drifted out of the parking lot. He wasn’t going fast, but already, I felt like I was on something uncontrollable. The beast between my legs vibrated and putt-putt-putted, and I was on the ascent of the world’s most dangerous roller coaster. I could not get off, and I hadn’t even hit the hardest part yet.
At least I had my helmet on. That way, I suppose if the worst happened, and we got into a wreck, I, uh… I’d be paralyzed, but I wouldn’t get a concussion?
“Here we go!”
And the bike screamed to life. We pulled out of the parking lot, and I held onto Brock for dear life.
That was not hyperbole. I literally felt like if I loosened my grip, I would die. I had never gone so fast in my life. All that separated me from the road beneath me was just a few inches. If Brock swerved too hard…
Jesus Christ!
