My stomach drops.
Jesse stands.
He reaches for a helmet resting on the seat.
“Oh,” I say faintly.
He turns back to me, something like amusement dancing in his eyes now. “You ready?”
I stare at the motorcycle. At the helmet. At him. My brain scrambles to reconcile the scene with everything I thought I understood.
“You’re… a biker.”
“Motorcyclist,” he corrects gently. “But yeah.”
All of the pieces suddenly fall into place. Biker. Motorcyclist. I take a closer look at him, squinting to give myself champagne goggles.
“You’re may date,” I say under my breath. “I thought I was meeting up with a?—”
“Cyclist?”
“Clearly.” I gesture helplessly at my outfit. “I’m not dressed to ride on… that.”
His lips twitch. “You look great.”
“That is not the point.”
He chuckles, stepping closer. “Mindy… you said you won your date at a bachelor auction, right?”
“Yes.”
“And that your date told you to dress for the ride.”
“Yes.”
“Well, then…” He lifts the helmet slightly. “Looks like we’re each other’s date.”
My heart slams against my ribs.
“Oh.”
I look from the motorcycle to Jesse.
Holy crap. I am absolutely, completely in over my head.
But what can I do? I did win a date with the guy.
TWO
JESSE
I’ve been on my share of first dates.
Plenty of them have been set-ups.
Dates my sister set me up on. Dates friends insisted would be “good for me.” Dates that started with awkward handshakes and ended with polite excuses and zero desire to ever do it again.
None of them prepared me for Mindy.
