He lets go of my hand and puts his jacket back on, zipping it up and snapping the buttons at the top and bottom. Sam grabs the other jacket. “Turn around.” His voice is gentle, the way one speaks to a frightened animal.
I do as he asks. He helps me put on the black motorcycle jacket, then spins me around and zips it up. He zips up the sleeves, making them tight against my wrists, and fastens the snaps on each one.
“Where did you get this?” Testing out the jacket, I find that it's snug, but in a way that still allows me to breathe. I feel the built-in protective pieces throughout.
“I bought it for you this afternoon. Along with the helmet and gloves I have for you downstairs.”
“Wait. You bought these for me?”
“Kat, I used to love riding, and I can’t imagine you being in my life and not having you ride with me. My backpack.” He winks at me.
I don’t remember him wearing a backpack when he came in, but I look around anyway.
“Missing something?”
“Your backpack. But I don’t remember you coming in with one. Where did you set it down?”
He starts to laugh but quickly reins it in when I look at him quizzically. “No, little menace.” Sam lightly tugs on my braid. “Thepassenger on a motorcycle is a backpack. And tonight, I’m very much looking forward to you being mine.”
I’m still confused when Sam adds, “It’s because you’ll sit a little higher than me and hang on to me. Nice and snug against my back. Like a backpack.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and then pulls me out of the condo and down to the street, where his motorcycle is.
I stare at the two helmets on the seat and wonder where he stored the one for me when he drove over here. He drops my hand again and picks up one of the helmets. He lifts the visor before helping me put it on.
“This should be a pretty close fit. You want it to be snug, and it shouldn’t move when you shake your head.”
He gestures for me to test it, so I shake my head, and the helmet stays in place.
“You shouldn’t feel any pressure points, and you shouldn’t feel like you’re going to bite the inside of your cheek. Does it feel ok?”
“Yeah, it feels a little strange, but it’s comfortable enough.” He helps me fasten the chin strap before stepping back to examine me.
“Good.” Sam hands me a pair of gloves, which I take and put on. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of me, pockets his phone, and then reaches for his own helmet. “You look too cute not to take a pic.” He winks at me before securing his helmet.
Once his helmet and his gloves are on, he straddles the motorcycle, gesturing for me to climb on behind him.
When he sees I’m looking a little confused, Sam points down to a small peg. “Step on this with your left foot and swing your right over. There’s another peg there. You keep your feet on those the entire time, ok? Put your hands on my shoulders for balance as you swing your leg over.”
I nod and climb on behind him.
“When I lean into a turn, you’re gonna lean with me. Try to relax your body against mine, and don’t be afraid to lean into me during the ride or when we stop. Try not to move too quickly.”
A nod is my only response again. I’m too nervous about this to talk.
Sam reaches behind him and grabs ahold of each of my hands, bringing them around his waist. “Snug, like a backpack.” He closes his visor, and I follow his action, closing mine, too. I feel the bike shift under us as he takes the weight of the bike onto his feet, and lifts the kickstand.
I tighten my grip around him while still allowing him room to breathe and feel a pleasant rumble in his chest.Did he just groan?
I’m terrified but also feel hot in all the places our bodies are touching. I turn my head and lean my helmeted head against his back.
“Is this uncomfortable for you?” The sound is muffled with the visor down. The helmet is so bulky that it feels weird to rest it on his back.
“It’s the most comfortable I’ve ever felt.” Sam pats my left hand with his before adding, “Now, hang on.”
I tighten my grip as he starts the motorcycle. Sam’s body shakes with laughter that I wish I could hear over the roar of the engine. He checks over his shoulder to make sure it's all clear and drives off.
The longer I’m behind him, the more my body starts to relax. I’m still holding onto him like my life depends on it, but I’m not as nervous. Each time he stops at a streetlight, he pats my hand or reassuringly rubs my knee. It takes about 20 minutes before I realize where we’re going.
Ethan, Sam, Liv, and I used to come here a lot as teenagers. Liv and I usually sunbathed while Sam and Ethan surfed. Sometimes we would come with a group of other people and have parties along the beach.
