“Oh my god, you’re relentless!” she seethes, stopping in her tracks and throwing up both hands in exasperation, before burying her face in them.
It’s fun, needling her.
“In more ways than one.” I smirk, spying a sliver of blue peeking out at me between her fingers.
“Listen,” I say, seriousness taking over my tone. “You can either get on the bike and let me give you a ride home, or you can get used to me following you. Because I agreed to be your fake-boyfriend for the night, which means in good conscience, I can’t just leave you out here alone.” I stare down at her, my eyes dark and uncompromising.
She sighs, looking forlornly in the direction that must be home.
“Fine.” She deflates, stepping closer to me and holding out a hand for my helmet. I slip it off, silently handing it to her, and she rolls her eyes before pulling it on.
“So where to?” I ask, watching as she fumbles with the helmet straps.
“Home, I guess.” She shrugs and I pick up on a slight trace of disappointment in her voice. It’s still early, just a little after eleven. She went to Last Call with her friends, probably hoping to have a fun night out, only for her ex to show up and ruin it.
And now she’s stuck with me.
I tilt my head, studying her. “You sure? Do youreallywant to go home?”
She’s quiet for a minute, her fingers still on the straps while she stares down at the pavement, debating whether or not to let honesty win.
“No.” The admission is quiet but I hear it.
Reaching out, I grip under the chin of the helmet, pulling her closer, which brings her eyes flying back up to mine.
I hold her gaze, carefully looping the strap of the helmet through its cinch, and tightening it until it’s snug. Andfuck, touching her again, letting my fingers graze the delicate skin just under her jaw… it’s addictive, this feeling.
“Okay, get on the back.”
She does so without argument, holding onto my shoulders to keep her balance as she swings her leg over. As she settles around me, her hands tentatively snake around my middle, lighting up each and every nerve along the way until she’s fully wrapped around me.
Kicking the bike stand back with the heel of my boot, I’m just about to release the clutch when I feel her tense, her body growing rigid against my back.
“Wait, you’re not a murderer right?” The words race out of her, half panic, half joke. “Like I didn’t just jump on the back of a serial killer’s bike?” She laughs nervously, her grip on my waist uncertain.
I smile quietly to myself. “Serial killer? No.” I reassure her. “Murderer? Only sometimes.” I spin around in my seat so she can see my face, giving her a little wink; she smiles back and a relieved laugh escapes her because she thinks I’m joking.
“So, where are we going?” she asks, settling back in around me.
“Not home.” I smirk, revving the bike and feeling it vibrate excitedly beneath us. A dark thrill shoots through me when her arms tighten around my waist.
“Don’t let go,” I warn, before I release the clutch and speed off into the night.
8
AN OPPORTUNITY
BRIAR
Now
“No dancing,” Remi pouts after I wrestled her into her pink leotard and tutu while hurriedly pulling her little ballet slippers out of her dance bag.The rest of her class is already warming up at the barre. She put up such a fight at Doctor Haven’s office that we’re running late.
Remi hasn’t quite taken to dance the way I wish she would. I was hoping the more she did it, the more she’d love it, but if anything, she’s only grown to hate it even more.
“Yes, dance,” I tell her with a frown. The last thing I want to do is force her into an activity she doesn’t like, so I need to figure something else out, but right now I need Remi inherclass, so I can go tomine.
But when I reach down for her foot to put her slipper on, she rips it out of my hands, throwing it back on the ground with a wicked pout. I pause… I have to tread carefully because wesodo not have time for a Remi-tantrum right now.
