He shrugs. "A couple times. Nothing special."
I smirk. "That’s because you haven’t been on mine yet," I say while putting my gloves on. "The last guy who rode with me said it was the best he ever had."
He doesn’t answer. But his silence is loud.
I rev the engine. I feel him shift. "Hold on," I say.
"I’m fine."
"Rava," I mutter, "hold on."
"I said I’m—"
I reach back, grab his wrists, and pull them to my waist. Clip his hands together like a seatbelt.
"God, you’re so fucking stubborn," I mutter. And then we’re off.
The road flies past in streaks of gold and black. The city lights blur. This is fucking living. I feel him tighten behind me. His arms lock just a bit more around my waist.
We hit a long stretch of open road and I open the throttle just enough to make it interesting. His hands don’t let go. And then, at a red light, two other bikes pull up beside us.
Older, bigger guys, with loud engines, the sexy type, and loud music.
Wait... I know these guys!
One of them nods at me. "Yo, Gio."
"Hey," I call back casually. Rava leans close. "Who the hell are they?"
I grin. "Just a couple guys I race with sometimes."
He goes quiet. I don’t turn around, but I swear I can feel the judgment radiating through the helmet.
I laugh. "They’re not murderers, Rava. I promise. You’re safe."
He doesn’t answer. The light turns green. I let them speed ahead. I don’t need to show off tonight.
Not to them, anyway. To him? Maybe.
I don’t know if it’s because I know how annoyingly critical he is, but yeah, I feel thisinsaneurge to flex every skill I ever learned on two wheels.
I could do so many things right now. A tight lean through traffic. A sharp overtake. That stupid little trick where I lift the front wheel just an inch.
I could make him scream if I wanted. But… yeah.
Who’s gonna listen to the lecture afterward? "I trusted you," "You’re reckless," "You almost killed me," blah blah blah.
I can already hear it.
So I drive clean. Like a gentleman.
And it’s hilarious, because he’s still scared. I can feel it from the way he’s holding me.
Relax, baby. If I wanted to scare you? You’d know. But I won’t.
Unless you ask.
Finally, I turn off onto a dirt path and pull into a gravel lot lit by strings of flickering lights.
