I nod.
“What if we race?” She knocks my hand off her wrist. “If I win, you leave me alone. If you win, you take me anywhere you want.”
Her eyes lock on mine through the mask.
The game is on.
I cross my arms over my chest.
There is no way a little chipmunk like her can beat me. I ride every day. She got the bike yesterday.
“F-fine,” I manage, my tongue tripping over the word.
“Fine?” She lifts a brow.
We walk toward the bikes. She pulls a key from the small pocket of her dress and swings a leg over her pink Yamaha. I only notice now the pink helmet hanging from the handlebar.
I scratch at the top of my hood, watching how she barely reaches the ground. Her sneakers skim the road, her toes doing most of the work, touching the ground.
I move to my bike. I turn away, slip the mask off, and pull my helmet on. I shove the mask into my backpack and swing it back to the front as I sit.
We roll forward together. She looks at me and slides her visor down, all business now.
“Ten seconds,” I laugh.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
She twists the throttle and launches before I can even answer.
Fuck. This girl will be the end of me.
Her red dress snaps against her ass as she tears toward the road.
Fuck.
I twist my throttle and surge after her. I don’t even look at the arrow on the dash. I just chase her.
She is faster than I expected.
Fucking challenge.
My grin stretches under the helmet as I lean in and push harder, slipping past her. I glance over my shoulder. She is right there, hips lifting off the seat, moving her ass in the air, trying to throw me off.
The bike wobbles as I weave left, then right. I lose the balance just for a second. I grab it and accelerate as the distance narrows.
She points down the road.
The finish line.
We drive side by side, our bodies leaning low, our eyes locked on the end of the stretch. She inches ahead. I open the throttle and slip past her at the last second, cutting the air first.
I stop hard and turn, back tire skidding a little. She pulls up in front of me, facing me.
She says nothing.
I lift a finger and wag it in the air.
Don't even think about it.
