Gio slows, pulling off to the side. We stop. He doesn’t even seem surprised. He pulls off his helmet with one hand, shaking out his hair like this is a damn photo shoot.
I climb off behind him, helmet still on.
A cop approaches. "License and registration," he says firmly. He glances between us. His eyes linger on me, then shift back to Gio.
Gio doesn’t move. He just smiles lazily. "Evening, officer. Was I speeding?"
"You were weaving lanes like it was a video game. Again."
"You caught me in a good mood."
I want to punch him. "Gio," I hiss. "Just give him the damn license."
He sighs like I’ve just asked him to donate a kidney, but finally pulls out his wallet and hands over his info.
The cop takes it and walks back to the car. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I snap under my breath.
"Relax. He’s just doing his job."
"You were driving like a maniac!"
"You were holding on tight. Thought you liked it rough." "You think this is funny?"
He smirks. "A little."
I shove him. "You’re unbelievable."
"Aw, come on, baby. I got us here already."
"Barely."
The cop comes back a minute later, hands the papers back.
"Watch the speed, ragazzi," he says. "And wear that helmet properly."
He looks directly at me. "He’s reckless."
Tell me something I don’t know.
Once he leaves, I turn on Gio again. "You could’ve gotten us arrested."
"But I didn’t."
"You really think just because you smile like a fucking god you’re invincible?"
He leans in close. "You think I smile like a god?"
God, he is so delusional.
"Fuck you, Gio," I mutter.
He chuckles and gets back on the bike. "Come on, golden boy. Party’s waiting. Don’t wanna be late, right? Wouldn’t want people to think we’re riding each other."
I hesitate, then get on behind him again, pissed but burning. His voice comes low as he starts the engine.
"Next time, hold on tighter. Might save your life."
And we speed off again.
