“What? I just wanted to say Em can ride my bike if he wants.”
That makes me jolt for a different reason.
“He’s never ridden before.” The image of him laid out on the bathroom floor flashes in my mind and a cold chill rushes over me. “No.”
Hatley raises a brow and steps closer. “What do you meanno? You brought him here to ride, right?”
Sucking in a breath, I reach up to secure the strap beneath my chin. “Just …no. He can ride with me.”
“You good?” Hatley asks and I grit my teeth hard.
“Will be,” I answer honestly because I’m not sure at all if I am, but I know that I will be. Eventually. Somehow. Maybe. “You?”
His head bobs with a grin that almost reaches his eyes. “It’s like I can feel the oil fueling my veins.” He inhales a deep lungful of thick night air. “Smells like diesel anddaydreams.”
My laugh cracks on its way out and I nod. “Sure, bro.”
Hatley clicks his tongue and takes off, leaving me alone with Emmett.
Who’s staring at me, the black and green helmet in his hand, the neck of his hoodie pulled up and trapped between his lips.
“Hey, bub,” I call out over the rev of passing engines with a grin and slide back on the saddle. Just far enough that I’ll still be able to reach the handlebars. “Let’s ride.”
Honey eyes meet mine, wide and terrified.
His grip on the helmet trembles and the hoodie drops from his mouth.
His throat bobs with a swallow.
But then something flashes over his features, and he pushes the hood back. Pulls the helmet on and tightens the strap under his chin. Steps up next to me and hikes a leg over the gas tank like he’s done this his whole life.
And when he settles into the seat, into the crook between my legs, I nearly groan.
This is not a great plan.
He’s so close that his sweet scent is finding its way through all of the fuel and burning oil that fills the air and smacking me right in the face.
Because it’s not just him … it’smine, too. My shampoo. My detergent. My, my,mine.
What the fuck am I doing?
Shaking my head, I reach around him on both sides and fist the grips. Yell over the sound of the track for him to prop his feet up on the frame and hold onto the inside of the handlebars, or me. He’s so thin that he easily folds over but ends up shoving his ass farther back into my crotch.
“Em,” I half groan, and clear my throat. “You ready?”
His nod is all I get as an answer, and I kick the engine to life.
Chapter 23
Emmett
The bike rockets forwardand I slide back into the cradle of Tristen’s legs. There’s something hard pressing into my lower back, but the seat is weird and stiff and none of that matters when the air hits my face through the open mask of the helmet. He twists the throttle like he showed me before we got on, thrusting us through the parking lot, which is really just a bunch of cars taking over the grass. My grip on the handlebars doesn’t hold when he curves us around an errant car and a yelp escapes me when I start to slide sideways.
We straighten, and I slide back into place with my heart in my throat and Tristen’s wrists in a death grip.
“Holy shit.”
I barely hear his chuckle over thebrrrnnnggof the bike.
