Noah leans on the open door, a smirk playing on his lips. “Déjà vu?”
“Shut up,” I mutter, slumping back in my seat.
“It’s no big deal,” he says, waving at his bike a few parks away. “You can jump on with me. I’ll meet you back here tomorrow with Jasper’s car for a jump start.”
I snort. “You want me to ride on the back of your bike? I don’t think so.”
“Scared?” he teases.
Of how my body will react pressed up against his? Yeah, I’m terrified.
“You don’t have much of a choice,” he points out, gesturing to the emptying car park. “I doubt anyone will hear their phone over the music if they’re already at our place.”
I groan, knowing he’s right.
“Come on.”
I reluctantly follow him to his bike, trying to ignore the quick, uneven rhythm of my heart. Noah hands me a spare helmet with a smirk. He’s loving this role reversal. With a muttered curse, I pull the helmet over my head and fasten the strap, but I’m in no hurry to climb on behind him.
“I’ll go easy on the corners,” he says, misreading my hesitation. Clearly, he’s not affected by me the way I am with him, but our friendship is still finding its footing, and I don’twant to freak him out if I can’t keep my dick in check.
I cast one last look at my car before releasing a heavy sigh. Karma’s a bitch.
Stepping up to him, I hold his arm as I swing my leg over the back of the bike—the seat is narrower than I expected, and the leather’s cold through my jeans.
I do my best to keep some distance between us, but Noah’s muffled voice comes through the helmet, teasing but firm. “You’ll have to sit closer, Kincaid. Unless you want us both on the bitumen.”
My jaw tightens, and I hesitate before shifting forward until my knees are pressing against his sides. The warmth of him is impossible to ignore as it seeps through the layers of clothes separating us.
“Better?” I grit out, gripping the side of his leather jacket.
He laughs, the sound lost under the growl of the engine as the bike rumbles to life, vibrating up through my legs.
The ride’s surprisingly smooth as we pull out of the car park, and my hands reflexively slide around his waist. I tell myself to focus on the road, the wind,anythingelse, but all I can think about is the steady rhythm of his breathing, the heat of his back pressed against my chest, and the uneasy thrum of something else between us.
Ten minutes is an eternity when every bump, every lean, every subtle shift of weight reminds me that he’s right there. Thankfully, my dick behaves, but by the time we pull up outside his house, my nerves are completely shot.
The party is in full swing, with laughter and music floating out to the street every time the front door opens and closes as partygoers arrive.
Noah kills the engine, kicking the stand down, and I scramble off the back, catching myself as I stumble. His shouldersshake with laughter as he swings his leg off the bike with effortless ease. I fumble with the helmet, our fingers brushing when I pass it to him.
The contact is brief, but enough to cause a buzzing in my chest, and I force myself to step back. When I turn away from him, I notice Hannah stepping out of her friend’s car, and guilt flares in my stomach.
Her eyes flick to us, curiosity plain on her face. It’s the same look I’ve seen when she catches me watching Noah, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking.
Completely oblivious to my inner chaos, Noah nudges me forward, grinning and waving when he spots his girlfriend. He swings his arm over her shoulder when we reach her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Great game tonight,” she says, beaming up at him.
“Thanks, babe.” He pushes open the door, the sound assaulting us.
I spot Blake and Everett chatting to some girls in the living room and beeline for them.
Ritter joins us a few minutes later.
“What took you so long?” he asks, handing me a beer.
I grimace. “Flat battery.”
