“C’mon. Let’s switch.”
I kick down the stand and hold up my hand to help him dismount.
His movements are jerky as he climbs down and swings around, his soft fingers pinched between mine—why am I wearing gloves again?—and his lithe body coming to a stop next to my knee.
His thigh bumps into me and I swear my heart stutters in my chest.
“What if we crash?”
“We might.” His fingers twitch.
“What if you get hurt?”
The already tight skin around the splits in my brow stiffen under his gaze.
“I’ll survive.”
There’s a flare to his nostril as he sucks in a breath, those sweet eyes of his wandering all over my face, stopping at each of the wounds marking my skin. They aren’t much. I’ve definitely had way worse, but right now they seem huge. Like he’d feel better if they weren’t there.
I’m gonna clean them up better when we get home.
“C’mon, bubbles.” I flex my fingers around him and scoot back in the cradle. “At least sit with me. Get a feel for it.”
Those honey irises meet mine and it’s like I can see the resolve build in the way they darken.
Without another word, he hikes a leg over the gas tank and settles his ass right in the crook of my thighs.
My stomach clenches.
“Do you—” my voice cracks and I clear my throat, “remember how to—”
Emmett lifts up and jams his foot down on the kick-starter with all of his weight, then lands right in my lap.
I grunt and grab his hips before he can slide off from the momentum.
He squeaks and goes to lift up again when the engine kicks once and dies.
“H-hang on, bubbles.”
There’s a rock in my throat when I slip him back into his seat, the drag of his ass over my crotch sending a chill over my exposed skin.
“Stay seated, use your leg,” I say low, almost husky. “Kick that fucker like it owes you money.”
“What?”
Snorting, I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “Kick it like it’s the balls of someone you hate.”
He stiffens and I have only half a second to regret saying it that way when he hikes his leg up and smashes it down so hard on the lever that I think he might have broken it.
The engine drowns out anything that comes out of my mouth because it kicks over and stays loud, ringing in the space between us.
I swear I hear Emmett growl before he tosses a look over his shoulder that I only catch part of because of the stupid helmet before we jerk forward. He squawks and throws his hands up at the same time I get my feet beneath us and stop the machine from toppling over.
The engine stalls.
“What did I do?” He’s breathless, sounding half scared and excited. “Why’d we move like that?”
Chuckling, I reach around him and tap the grip. “Gas.” Then the other. “Shifter like a car.”
