Once we’d ridden off the donuts, Leo pulled the bike back to the curb and sidled up to Spencer’s blue motorcycle.
Since we’d left, Spence had thrown on her helmet and popped open a bag of chips while she watched us. As soon as we came to a stop, Spencer nodded. “Not bad, 15 donuts in a minute.”
Leo lifted her visor. “Liar. I counted 17.”
That familiar smirk of Spencer’s took over her face as she made eye contact with me. “What’d you think of that?”
My grip around Leo hadn’t loosened at all despite being parked, still holding on like I might fall off at any moment.
I couldn’t find the words, just opened my mouth and tried to find something to say.
Looking over her shoulder, Leo tilted her head toward Spencer’s bike. “Why don’t you go show her how you felt about it?”
Of course, I knew I couldn’t really show either of them how I felt. Because if I did, I’d have to spread my legs, let them feelthe slick mess that was forming between my lips. And now was certainly not the time for that.
Especially not without understanding what the fuck these feelings really were.
Before I could move, Spencer rose from her bike. “Actually, I’m gonna go use the little dyke's room.”
“Too scared to beat my record.” Leo called after her. Taking in a deep breath, Leo stood and turned, sitting back down facing me. “So, how was it?”
“Dangerous.” Crossing my arms, I looked up at the sky. Despite the bright lights in the parking lot, the stars were still visible out here. “I promised my dad I’d never ride one.”
“He wasn’t a fan?”
I laughed as I met her eyes, darker now than they were in the day. “The opposite. He loved them. Always working on them when I was little. But he hated the idea of his little girl on one.”
A gentle hand rested on my knee as Leo nodded. “To be fair, I would advise every patient to avoid them. They’re deathtraps.”
Raising an eyebrow, I hoped she would see the irony. But damn if she didn’t look fucking hot on this Ducati.
“Speaking of patients, can I ask you something?” Leo continued. A simple nod was enough to spur her on. “I don’t want to overstep but I’ve noticed a few things and just wanted to ask you about it.”
“Shoot.”
Her eyes were soft as she met my gaze, making sure that I was really looking at her. “The wounds on your hands and the bruises… they took a long time to heal. And I’ve noticed you have significant fatigue when you do physical activities.”
Snorting, I shrugged. “Doesn’t everybody?”
Doctor Leo ignored my light tone. “Not really. Most people don’t experience any pain or prolonged fatigue after exercise. And I also noticed that you’re double jointed.”
“Yeah cool, right?” Immediately, I pulled out my favorite party trick — bending my thumb down to my wrist.
Reaching out, Spencer grabbed my hand and held it. “Kiera, you told me doctors used to tell you that it was just being clumsy. But did you ever talk to them about the pain?”
My brow furrowed, the seriousness of what we were talking about starting to set in. “No, my mom used to tell me it was normal. That her mother used to complain about stairs too. Then she’d yell at me to get back on the treadmill and walk it off.”
“I’m really sorry no one’s ever validated what you were experiencing. But I’d like to do that, if you’d let me.” Pouting, Leo looked soft and warm.
With a nod, I swallowed. “What’s the prognosis, Doc?”
A gentle smile took over her face. “Well, I’m not a rheumatologist but I think you may have something called Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. It’s commonly referred to as being “double jointed” but it really means that the connective tissue in your joints — well, really, all of your connective tissue — is a little bit stretchy, so to speak.”
“Like Elastigirl?”
Chuckling, Leo nodded. “Yeah, kind of. But in some cases it can cause pain and chronic fatigue. Do you feel like that resembles your experience?”
A pit formed in my chest, something hollowing out as I realized that it did. That it was exactly what I’d been feeling my whole life. And it had been ignored… by everyone.
