She snorts. “I highly doubt you ever struggled with anything riding related. The five of you look like you were born to be on bikes, with your tattoos and bad-boy auras. Can I get up now?”
“Yeah, you can get up.” I guiltily remove my hand from where it was still resting on her chest. I miss the feel of her as soon as I draw back. I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch her again. “I struggled a lot when I started riding. I wasn’t a natural at it like the rest of them were. So, I speak from experience when I say they’re way harder than they should be.”
She sits up and pulls her helmet off with practiced movements. Tugging off her balaclava, she sets both to the side and glances up at me.
“I’m sorry I said that. I know everyone struggles, so that wasn’t fair of me.” Breaking eye contact with me, she looks sadly at her 636. “I’ve had it for a week, and I’ve already messed up the fairings. I’m a horrible bike owner.”
I glance over at the tiny scratches in the paint that happen regardless of how careful you are. I don’t really think they’re anything to worry about, but Lark looks like she’s about to cry.
I panic. I’d honestly rather be tortured for weeks than see tears trailing down the cheeks of the woman in front of me.
“It’s easy to fix, dove,” I rush to reassure her. “I promise. I know quite a few shops in the area that do custom paint jobs. You can also get new OEM fairings on eBay or parts websites, so it’s all very fixable. Getting frame sliders will save your paint from getting scratched up further, too.”
She sighs and rubs a hand over her face. When she drops her hand, she thankfully doesn’t look like she’s about to burst into tears anymore. “Yeah, I know I should’ve had the sliders. Coopalready bought me a set. I just need to find time to take my bike over there.”
Jealousy at Lark mentioning another man’s name roils in me and threatens to awaken the beast slumbering in my chest. I forcibly smother it before trying to steer the conversation to topics that won’t end with me showing Lark more about what I am than I should.
Trying to find something to distract myself, I ask, “How long have you been out here practicing?”
Pulling out her phone, she checks the time, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Two and a half hours, apparently. I thought I had only been out here for thirty minutes or so.”
“Time goes fast when you’re focused.” I bite the inside of my cheek as I debate what to say next. “I know I’d be worn out from practicing that long. You might have better luck with figure eights if you come back to it another day.”
Her shoulders slump. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Not wanting my time with her to end, I rack my brain, trying to think of some reason to keep her from leaving. “If you wanna keep riding, I could show you a pretty cool spot a bit outside of town. It’ll only take twenty-ish minutes to get there.”
I’ve never shown my spot to anyone, not even my flight. It’s the place where I feel most at peace, and I want to share some of that feeling with Lark. I don’t know her hardly at all, but something tells me she could use more peace in her life.
Her gaze bounces around my face so long, I start to think she’s going to refuse. She eventually blows out a breath and says, “I’m probably going to regret this, but, sure, why not?”
I snort and stand up, reaching my hand down to help her up. “Why will you regret it?”
She takes my hand and lets me pull her to her feet. “I don’t really know you, and you’re taking me to some remote spot, where there’s probably no one around to hear me scream. You’llthen proceed to murder me and dump my body in a ditch, which I’ll definitely regret for the brief time I’m alive.”
She says it so matter-of-factly that I gape at her for a moment.
How and why is she so casual about someone taking her life? And why doesn’t it seem to bother her if she is killed?
I sigh, knowing I’m not going to get the answers to either of those questions tonight. So, I wait until her gaze meets mine again, allowing her to see the truth in my eyes. “I won’t hurt you, dove. Have many people have tried to murder you that you assume that’s what’s going to happen?”
She tilts her head back and forth as she thinks. “I mean, more than I’d like. I’d really rather the number of people who have tried to off me be at zero, but that’s not how it’s shaken out.” When she notices me looking at her curiously, Lark ducks her head and turns back to her bike. “Welp, we better get going. Secret places to see and all that jazz.”
Lark hastily puts her helmet back on before I can ask her any of the questions that were on the tip of my tongue. Like who tried to kill her, what their names are, and where can I find them?
I’ll let her run away from my questions for now, but she won’t always be able to hide so easily from me.
CHAPTER 8
LARK
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe when I get a good look at the swooping forested valleys and towering tree-covered hills. I can even see a hint of the deep indigo mountains in the distance.
As soon as my creature sees the seemingly endless sea of trees, she demands to be let out. I had to promise to come back here on my own before she stopped trying to force me to shift. The last thing I need is Rook finding out what a strange shifter I am.
To get here, Rook led us down some twisty back roads to a small parking area with a couple of weathered picnic tables. Then he directed me into the forest and down a barely visible path.
Ten or so minutes of walking later, we burst through the trees and onto this scenic overlook.
