I move to climb off the bike once Makhi has kicked the kickstand with his boot.
He pulls his helmet off, setting it on the ground beside the front wheel. “Wait there.”
Confused but excited that this is my first lesson in riding a bike, I stay where I am. My confusion grows when he pulls my helmet off, sets it on the ground, and motions at me. “Up.”
Up?
He takes my right hand and helps me to my feet. I throw one leg over the bike, but before I can move away from it, he nudges me back to sit on the seat with both hands on my hips.
I have a very sudden and very vivid flashback to his promise to fuck me on his bike.
“Why do you do that?” he asks.
I blink, surprised. “Do what?”
“Stare into space? Disappear inside your head.”
I push him away, but not for the reason I thought I would. I thought he’d brought me up here for sex. I'd say no to him and push him away. Instead, I do nothing when I think he’s going tofuck me on his bike and push him away when he just wants to talk.
“I don’t know,” I lie.
He doesn’t blink as he takes a small step back and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Bullshit.”
I shake my head. “I don’t?—”
“Youdoknow. I’m calling you on your bullshit the way Nash or Vonn would call me out on mine. Why do you do it?”
“Is this because you feel guilty for firing me and slamming a door in my face?”
“Yes, and no.”
“Why the no?”
“Answer the question, and I’ll tell you.”
I give him a long, probing look, trying to read him. He meets my gaze steadily.
I’m struck by how handsome he is in a black leather coat, jeans, and black boots. It makes me painfully aware of my shaved head and rumpled oversized sweats. I ran out of the house after Makhi so fast that it never entered my head to grab one of the hats that Nash ordered for me to keep me warm until my hair grows back.
And even though it’s cool out here, and my head is naked, I’m not thinking about how cold I am. I’m not thinking of anything.
“You’re doing it again,” Makhi says.
I blink to bring him back into focus.
He’s closer, and I neither heard the scuff of his boots nor saw him move.
He’s right.
I keep disappearing into my own head and I never know what sets it off or why.
I lick my lips. “It’s easier, I guess.”
He cocks his head. “Easier than what?”
I shrug, looking away. “Remembering.”
Feeling. When I’m in my head, I can’t feel anything.
