I pop the seat and pull out the spare helmet.
The smaller one. It’s been there since the day I bought the bike. Clean. Untouched. I don’t know why I kept it, only that I never got rid of it. Never needed it. Until now. “This one’s yours,” I say, holding it out.
She eyes it. “You just carry a second helmet around?”
“Yeah,” I answer easily. “Just in case.” That’s not a lie. Not really. I step closer. “Hold still.”
My hands slide to either side of her face, careful, deliberate. I guide the helmet down slowly, making sure I don’t catch herhair. My knuckles brush her jaw and I feel her inhale at my touch.
“Comfortable?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says, voice a little breathless. “I think so.”
I tilt my head. “You think, or you know?”
She swallows. “I know.”
Good answer. I fasten the strap beneath her chin, tug once to check it, then tap the side of the helmet. “There’s a comm system built in. You’ll hear me the whole time.”
Her honey hazel eyes lift to mine. “The whole time?”
I smile. “Every second.”
I step back and grab my own helmet, sliding it on and locking it into place. The world shifts, sound muting just enough to sharpen everything else. I flip the switch and hear the faint click as the system connects. “You hear me?” I ask.
There’s a pause, then her voice comes through, close and clear. “Yeah. I hear you.”
“Good,” I say. “Now listen carefully.” I swing a leg over the bike and settle in, grounding myself before I look at her again. “When I tell you to get on, step on the peg, swing your leg over, and slide up behind me. Don’t rush it.”
She nods, focused now. Serious. She follows instructions like she means to get them right.
“Once you’re on,” I continue, “I want you close. Closer than you think you should be.”
Her breath comes through the speaker, soft but unmistakable.
“Put your hands around my waist,” I say. “Or hold the grab bar if you need to. But if you choose me, you hold on tight.”
“Lucky,” she murmurs.
“Yeah?”
“I’m trusting you.”
Her words do something crazy to me. “You should,” I say. “I’ve got you.” I tap the tank once. “Alright. Go ahead.”
She mounts the bike carefully, exactly how I told her to. When she settles behind me, there’s a beat where she hesitates. I feel it. The space she hasn’t crossed yet. “Slide up,” I say quietly through the helmet. “That’s it. Don’t be shy.”
She moves, pressing in until I feel the heat of her through my jacket, her body fitting like it was always meant to be there. Her arms come around me, tentative at first, then firm. “Like that?” she asks.
I exhale slowly, steadying. “Perfect.”
Her helmet bumps lightly against mine as she nods, and I smile to myself. “Ready?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says. “I think so.”
I grin, rolling the bike upright. “Good.”
I start the engine, the vibration humming through both of us, and I don’t miss the way she tightens her hold. “Just stay with me,” I tell her. “I’ll do the rest.”
