The bike roared down her street, the vibration rattling through her bones, and Nettie’s grip tightened instinctively around his middle. Tate’s low chuckle was lost to the wind, but she felt it beneath her palms, a subtle rumble that matched the rhythm of the engine.
They hit the highway within minutes. The lanes stretched out like dark ribbons, lights flashing past them in a blur. Nettie’s pulse raced, not from fear, but from the sheer rush of it—speed, air, freedom. Her sweatshirt whipped in the wind, her sneakers pressed harder against the footrests as she leaned into the ride.
The city began to fall away behind them, the glow of storefronts replaced with stretches of black highway and the occasional green road sign arching above. The stars were faint, hidden by the blur of motion, but the night air smelled sharp and clean, tinged faintly with gasoline and fresh asphalt.
She closed her eyes for a moment and felt it. Felthim.His solid back against her chest, the heat of his body cutting through the cold. He was her shield from the wind, her anchor in the dizzying rush. Every bump in the road jolted them closer, every curve forced her arms to tighten, until it no longer felt like she was holding on—it felt like she was a part of him.
“Where are we going?” she hollered again, her words stolen and shredded by the wind.
“We’re not talking, remember?” he called back. His voice was steady, calm, and maddeningly sure of itself. “We’re just existing right now.”
Just existing…
The words clung to her like the air clung to her skin.
Nettie swallowed hard and turned her face into his back, resting her helmet against him. The hum of the engine, the push of the wind, the steady thrum of his breathing—it was hypnotic. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, her chest didn’t ache with that unsettling hollow pain from the unknown ‘what ifs’that silently haunted her.
They peeled off onto a side road, the sudden curve making her gasp and clutch him tighter. His hand shifted briefly, squeezing hers gently as if to reassure her, before gripping the throttle again. She let herself sink into that gesture, tiny and wordless but loud in its meaning.
They passed trees that blurred into streaks of shadow, open fields where the moonlight stretched pale silver across the grass, and small clusters of houses glowing warm in the dark. It was a patchwork of places, familiar and strange, all flashing past too quickly to hold on to. And maybe that was the point.
Because here—on the back of his bike—time wasn’t something she had to measure. It wasn’t days since they had parted badly. It wasn’t hours since she’d last cried. It wasn’t minutes since her doubts had tried to strangle her. It wasjust this. Just motion. Just him. Justthem— losing themselves together.
Nettie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and tightened her arms around his middle, not out of fear this time, but something else. Something closer to longing, a craving, a silent wish straight from her soul. She thought about Shannon’s words, echoing like a ghost in her ears.
Listen to what he’s not saying.
Tate hadn’t said much at all. But he was here. He was showing up. He was refusing to keep the distance between them and reaching out in the one way she seemed to enjoy being around him. He was giving her this helmet, this ride, this escape— with him.
Her heart twisted.
Was this him needing to be closer, or was this him ignoring her wishes again?
The highway stretched on, endless and open. Nettie let her eyes drift closed again, the night rushing past her in a blur of sound and speed, and wished—for just a little longer—that the world could stay suspended like this. She knew it had to come to an end eventually, but until then, she would savor this for what it was.
Him.
Them.
Alone.
Then, as if Karma was listening, she heard the sound of the bike change slightly as they veered off onto an exit. He was turning around, and she cringed, fighting the feeling of loss within her, and clutching him close—only to feel the bike slow even more, a slight dip, and then nothing. They’d stopped.
The magic was over.
He plucked her hands from his middle and hesitated, turning to look over his shoulder at her, and Nettie looked up finally, and did a doubletake.
“Are you hungry?”
“You’re kidding,” she said flatly, staring at him as he flipped up his visor and smirked.
“Live a little,” he chided gently. “Come on.”
“You picked me up, drove me for who knows how long, only to bring me to a Cracker Barrel in the middle of nowhere?”
“That about sums it up.”
“That is the worst first date ever.”
