Of all the places that are appropriate for a breakdown, a motorcycle dealership currently overrun by mobsters isn’t one of them. Sucking in a fortifying breath, I try to shove down everything I feel and smooth out my expression.
Before Hal can ask about the emotions that were flitting across my face, I turn around and head for a big neon-green bike.
Hal follows closely behind and comes to a stop next to me. “You probably don’t want to start on that one. It’s a race replica liter bike. It has a lot of power for a beginner.”
Glancing down at the nameplate, I realize he’s right. Even though Charlie thinks I could start on a bike with a 1000ccengine, I’d rather not have a two hundred horsepower beast that can go over two hundred miles per hour as my first bike. That seems like a recipe for disaster.
While a motorcycle accident probably wouldn’t kill me, since I’m a shifter, it’d still hurt like a bitch to crash going that fast.
It takes a lot to kill a shifter. Only major injuries to the head or heart that overwhelm our naturally faster healing can kill us. Vampires are pretty much unkillable, fae are fairly hard to kill, and mages are almost as vulnerable as normal humans. Shifters fall somewhere between fae and mages on the killable scale.
Sighing, I glance around the dealership, trying to figure out which bike to look at next. While they have a great selection here, having so many bikes to choose from is overwhelming, even with all the research I’ve done.
Wondering if he has any ideas, since he seems to know a lot about the bikes I’ve looked at, I turn to Hal. “What bike would you suggest, then?”
“What experience do you have?” Hal shoves his hands into his suit pant pockets and rocks back on his heels as he stares at me thoughtfully. “And what type of bike are you looking for?”
“I rode dirt bikes as a kid. I’ve been practicing on my friend’s MT-07 and KTM 390 Duke for a couple months. I’m leaning toward a sport bike, but I’m open to a naked bike as well.” I like the aggressive riding position of sport bikes and the added wind protection of the fairings, but I’m not super set on it one way or another.
Hal tilts his head from side to side in thought for a moment before grabbing my free hand and tugging me along behind him. His hand is warm and so much larger than mine, able to fully engulf it.
He comes to a stop in front of two bikes, one black and one bright green. “Either of these should work well.”
“What’s the green one?” I can’t help the urge to go over to the fluorescent lime bike. Green of any shade is my favorite color. Judging by its signature paint scheme, it has to be a Kawasaki of some sort.
I free my hand from Hal’s and instantly miss the feel of him. My eyes widen at my thoughts.
No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not fucking happening.Men are off-fucking-limits. Even stupidly hot ones.
Clenching my fist, I walk over to the bike to get more distance from him. Stepping up on the foot peg and lowering down, I get adjusted in the seat and set my helmet on the gas tank before looking up at Hal again.
He walks over to the bike and rests his hands on the handlebars, just inches from me. I have to squash the temptation to brush his fingers with mine. “It’s a Kawasaki ZX-6R. It’s a 600 class, so it has a ton of power at the upper rev ranges. As long as you have good throttle control, it’s a fine bike to start on in your case. Since you have some experience, a starter 400 would probably be a little small for you.”
I give him a small nod before trying to assess the bike critically.
But who am I kidding?
I love it. It’s green, has good power, and isn’t too uncomfortable. I’ve even picked out the perfect name for it.
It’s silly to get sentimentally attached to this specific bike because I doubt Dave or the other guy will sell it to me.
Sighing, I reluctantly get off the pretty bike. I give it one last affectionate pat before looking up at Hal and trying not to pout. “Well, thanks for helping me find one.”
He tilts his head as he looks quizzically between me and the bike. “Do you not like this one?”
“No, I love it. But I doubt the salesguys will sell it to me, unfortunately. I’ll find someone else with one like it.” Myshoulders slump at the prospect of having to do this all over again at another dealership. I doubt the salespeople will be any better somewhere else, if I’m being honest.
“Don’t be silly, wild girl. They will definitely sell it to you.” Hal flashes me a bright grin that doesn’t match the anger simmering in his light green gaze. “How much do you want to pay for it?”
“What do you mean? Like, it’d be great to pay three grand for it, but I’m pretty sure MSRP is much higher.” Based on similar bikes I’ve looked at, I’d guess it’s around thirteen thousand dollars, which is at the top of my budget. But I can make it work.
He tilts his head like he’s thinking for a moment before grinning down at me. “Hmm, the highest I can go is two thousand five hundred, and we have a deal.”
“Um, sure?” My voice rises at the end because I have no clue what’s going on. I don’t know why he’d be authorized to sell it to me or to negotiate on price. Not that he’s very good at negotiating.
“Awesome! What’s your full name? I’ll go fill out the paperwork, inspect it to make sure everything’s in good shape, and meet you out front in a few minutes.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a notepad and pen. Then he jots down information from the bike’s tag.
“Lark Josephine Sparrow.”
