He looks at me, points toward the door as if reconsidering, then shrugs and gives in. He steps onto the railing and allows me to jump first. I land gently in the garden, followed immediately by him. Luckily, it’s not a far drop.
I turn to him, grinning. “Do they know we can just jump out and leave whenever we want?”
Judas shakes his head and presses a palm to his chest.
“Oh, right,” I say. “You’rethe golden child.”
He pinches me under the arm. I squeak as he traps his lower lip between his teeth and grabs me, lifting me off the ground.
“I can walk, Judas,” I say.
He shakes his head and carries me toward the garage anyway.
He lets me down, my feet touching the ground, and walks toward the blue bike. He grabs the helmet and tosses it at me. I barely catch it.
“Asshole,” I shout.
He puts on a balaclava, then his helmet, fastening the strap under his chin. I can’t help staring as his muscles move while his fingers work the metal clip.
Carmen, stop drooling,I think.
He clears his throat, pulling me back, then pats the top of his helmet with his palm, showing me to do the same. I tap the helmet twice and look at him.
His palm hits the helmet as he laughs, clearly because that’s not what I am supposed to do. He pulls out his phone and types.
Put your helmet on, you dumbass.
I blush, my lips pressing together in shame. I put the helmet on and immediately pull the visor down so he can’t see me. He sits on the bike, and I move closer, place my hand on the seat, and lift myself up behind him.
“Ready,” I whisper.
He starts the engine, and my whole body vibrates with it. As he twists the throttle, we roll out of the garage. This time, he doesn’t even bother to close it.
My hands clutch his chest, fingers digging into his hoodie. He notices. Slows just enough to pull me closer until my body is pressed flush to his back.
I smack his shoulder once. He laughs and speeds up anyway as we hit the main road.
It’s strange how fear turns into freedom.
As he eases off the throttle, my hands loosen. They lift on their own, arms spreading as I close my eyes. The wind rushes past me. For a second, it almost feels like flying.
Is this what it’s going to be like with him?Chasing every ride like I’m a bird and this is my last flight. I don’t care. I want it. I want to learn how to ride by his side.
My hands slide back to his chest. I lean forward, resting against his back, almost melting into him, letting myself go.
Every curve pulls me with him. I move when he moves, trusting him completely. Every kilometre per hour feels like more freedom, like the world is loosening its grip.
And if this is what it feels like, then I want all of it.
We ride for about twenty minutes before he slows and turns off the main road. Toward the beach. There is no one around. No cars. No people. No one is watching. When we stop, he swings off the bike and moves his feet on the ground.
His hand brushes the lower part of my back. I gasp. I didn’t expect the touch. He presses gently, sliding me forward until I am closer to the front of the bike.
He crouches in front of me, focused. He lifts my feet one by one and adjusts them on the pegs. First left, then right. He taps each foot, checking their balance, before finally looking up at me.
“You’re taking this way too seriously,” I smiled towards him.
He raises his brow as he stands, then settles behind me. I swallow the lump in my throat when I feel every single muscle as he leans in, arches my body forward. He takes my left hand, then my right, and presses them onto the handlebars.
