His grin faltered just enough to show he heard the truth in it. Then he held out the helmet. “Time to live a little, then.”
I hesitated, fingers brushing the cool metal before I took it. “You sure this is safe?”
“Nope,” he said, voice dropping to that low rumble that always hit deeper than it should. “That’s the point.”
He fastened the strap for me, his fingers grazing my jaw. The touch was barely there, but it struck like a spark hitting dry tinder.
“Climb on,” he said.
I did—awkward, unsteady at first—my hands hovering before settling on his sides. Heat seeped through the leatherlike it was alive. The engine rumbled to life beneath us, a deep, steady growl I felt in my ribs.
“Hold on,” he said, glancing back with a grin. “And if you start to fall, scream loud, I like a woman who warns me before she lets go.”
I rolled my eyes, but tightened my grip anyway. “Just drive, Chain.”
He laughed, and the bike leapt forward.
The wind hit hard—hot, wet, alive. Charleston blurred past in streaks of neon and shadow. My pulse matched the engine’s rhythm, a wild, reckless beat that felt like it belonged to me.
For so long, I’d lived small. Quiet. Contained. My world had been built on rules, don’t speak, don’t run, don’t want. Every step measured. Every breath monitored.
But this—this was unchained.
The road stretched endless in front of us, and I leaned into the turns without thinking, hair whipping across my face, the night clawing at my skin like it wanted to claim me. A laugh burst out of me before I could swallow it, loud, real, pulled from a part of me that had been silent for years.
Chain must’ve heard it. He glanced back just long enough for our eyes to meet, his grin flashing under the streetlights before he gunned the throttle again. The bike roared. I clung tighter, my heart slamming, my blood roaring louder than the wind.
I felt wild.
Free.
Untamed.
Everything they tried to burn out of me.
When we finally slowed, turning down the quiet road toward the clubhouse, the air around us seemed to hum right along with my body.
Chain coasted to a stop, the engine ticking as it cooled. “See?” he said over his shoulder. “Told you you’d like it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He twisted just enough for me to see the grin. “You didn’t have to. I could feel it.”
I slid off the bike, legs unsteady in a way that had nothing to do with the ride. “Maybe it was the wind,” I said, pushing the helmet off.
“Maybe,” he said softly. “But wind don’t make your eyes shine like that.”
He reached like he might touch me, then stopped short, his hand dropping away. A choice, not hesitation.
“You did good today, Lark.”
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, quieter than I meant to.
“Anytime.”
He watched me head up the steps, the night thick between us. I didn’t look back. But for the first time, I understood the kind of freedom that terrified and thrilled in equal measure. And deep down, beneath the vibration of the engine still echoing in my bones—I wanted more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
