I study it for a moment, trying to decide just how much danger I’m in right now. And before I can talk myself out of it, I place my hands on his strong shoulders and straddle the bike behind him.
The bike roars to life beneath me, the thrill of it outmatched only by the feeling of being pressed against Zane as I wrap both arms around him.
He takes off, guiding the motorcycle away from the marina.
With every passing second, the feeling of freedom grows within me. Heart-pounding, soul-stirring joy as I sit here with my arms wrapped around the boy who stole my heart all those years ago.
Though I’m finding quickly that adult Zane is even more of a threat to my heart than the boy version of him was.
I lean with him as he guides the bike along the coastal road toward his mom’s house. The sun has already dipped beyond the horizon, but the rays of color are still there, one final show before night takes over.
When I was a kid, I dreaded the second that night fell. Because it meant there were no more reasons for me not to return home.
The library closed, so no more studying.
The grocery store shut its lights off, so no more late-night food runs.
Zane’s curfew hit, so no chance he could rescue me.
It became a fight to survive every time the sun went down. But tonight, I relish the feeling that I have nowhere to be except right here…with Zane Knox.
He guides the bike down a residential street, then parks in front of his mother’s house. Ryker’s truck is here, as is Anastasia’s car. Nerves overtake the freedom I’d felt with my arms wrapped around Zane, but there’s something else there, too.
Something awfully close to happy.
I climb off and remove my helmet, though I can still feel the rumbling of the bike as I do. Zane does the same, then sets his helmet down before taking mine. “Looks like she has company, too. You okay?”
“I am,” I reply, surprised that it’s true.
Zane’s hand falls to my lower back as he guides me up the steps. Heat swirls in my belly at the contact, and I fight the urge to lean back into it. Into him.
The door opens before we reach it, and Anastasia’s smiling face swims into view. “It’s about time!” she jokes.
“I didn’t even know we were coming until five minutes ago,” Zane defends.
“Excuses, excuses,” Anastasia jokes.
We move into the house, and she closes the door behind us. Ryker is in the kitchen with Linda, as is Sawyer. The latter is sprinkling something on top of what looks a lot like a cobbler, while the former is stirring something that smells absolutely delicious.
My stomach growls despite the cake Zane and I had only an hour or so ago.
Linda turns toward me and smiles widely. “Happy birthday!” she exclaims.
“Thank you,” I say, tears burning in my throat. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
“Nonsense.” She waves it off and turns back to whatever she’s prepping on the counter. “You go ahead and relax. Dinner will be ready in a few.”
I don’t deserve this. Those four words echo in my mind, so loud they might as well be accompanied by a drumline.
I left her son at the altar.
I lied.
I’ve stolen.
I don’t deserve any of this.
With Zane’s hand on my lower back, I can’t run, so I remain where I am. Weston shakes Zane’s other hand and offers me a smile, while Garrison crosses over to stand in front of me.
