“Why? I won’t hurt you, angel. I don’t have it in me.”
“Until Star, I lost every single thing that I loved. And every facet of what made me me began to disappear with each fading memory. I’m not scared you’ll hurt me, Ambros. I’m scared I’ll lose you, and in turn lose even more of myself.”
“Then let me fill you up…Okay, I admit that sounded much dirtier than I intended it to.”
She cracks up laughing, her eyes shining with mirth as I slip my fingers in her visor and tug her closer until our helmets are pressed together. “I’m talking about letting me help you fill all those empty spaces. I never want you to wake up a single day and feel lonely. I want you to open your eyes and taste me on yourlips, smell me on your skin, and feel where I’ve been inside you—and I don’t just mean with my cock. Because if you let me, I’ll bury myself inside you so deep you’ll never dig me out.” I let out a sigh, wishing we didn’t have the helmets separating us.
“I understand fading away. I watched my sister fade away for years as she fought like a fucking warrior in a battle she had no chance of winning. She didn’t give up, though, and as much as I’m so fucking proud of her courage and tenacity, it gave me false hope. I honestly thought, right up until the end, that she’d be that miracle that beat the odds. But then she was gone, and I was so fucking lost.” I press my lips to her visor before pulling back so she can read the truth in my eyes.
“Then there was you. I was dying right along with Ella, and yet you refused to let me go. You breathed life back into me, first with your letters, then with your phone calls. You were the one to catch me on the worst day of my life. How the hell can I not want to do the same for you?”
“So you feel obligated?”
“No, not at all. Did you feel obligated to help me because I carried you out of that house?”
She thinks over my words before shaking her head, her shoulders relaxing before she answers. “No. I just didn’t want you to feel alone.”
“Exactly.”
We stand there for a moment, absorbing each other, completely locked in each other’s orbit, which feels somehow both fragile and indestructible.
“Take me home, Ambros,” she whispers huskily.
I wink at her. “Yes, ma’am.”
It takes us a couple of tries to get her on the bike and find her balance. I hold back my chuckle when she gets frustrated, sliding my hand up her thigh and giving her a reassuring squeeze as I rev the engine. She wraps her arms tightly around me, whichI take as confirmation that she’s ready, and head back home. I take one of the back roads I know will be quieter. It might take a little longer, but less traffic means dealing with fewer assholes, and as I have special—albeit drunk—cargo, I’d rather take it easy.
It doesn’t take us long to get back. Though her hold has loosened, she’s still gripping tight enough for me not to worry that she’s fallen asleep. When we pull up outside her place, I park next to Havoc’s bike and shut off the engine. I hold out my hand to steady Citi so she can climb off. She gets off far easier than she got on, making me wonder if the cool evening air helped sober her up a little. The second I let her go, she sways and hiccups, making me laugh. I guess that’s my answer. I climb off, take off my helmet, and hook it to the bike before unfastening Citi’s and placing it on the seat.
“How you feeling, angel?”
“Awesome.” She taps my cheek. “Why are you so pretty?”
I grin, leaning down so my nose slides down hers. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”
She huffs before spinning around and stumbling over the curb. I catch her before she face-plants into the concrete.
“Okay, drunko. Let’s get you inside before you knock your teeth out.”
“It wasn’t my fault. The curb jumped out and attacked me. You saw that, right?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll avenge you.”
“Well, thank you, kind sir.” She startles when the door opens and Nevaeh stands in the doorway tapping her foot. “Who put a mirror there? Wow, I really need to wax my upper lip,” she mutters,
Tink gasps. “You bitch. I do not have a hairy lip.”
“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the hairiest of them all?”
I laugh as Tink stomps toward us, Havoc appearing in the spot she just vacated with an amused grin on his face.
“Wait, is she drunk?” Tink looks at me before turning back to Citi, who holds up her fingers in a pinching motion.
“A teeny, tiny bit.”
Nevaeh narrows her eyes at me. “You got my sister drunk?” she yells.
“Not on purpose. But Citi’s a grown-ass woman, Tink. She’s allowed to get drunk.”
