Zayn:I could treat that Lambo to the drive of its life and you know it.
Vaxan grinned at me, then typed rapidly.
Vaxan:It’s a boy. Lucius.
Zayn:You named your car? Love it!
Winter:He calls his bike Vulcan.
I chuckled.
Evira:Makes so much sense.
Zayn:You like, icicle?
Evira:Love.
Zayn:Damn. Told you, Win. Should’ve named yours too. Evira, wanna ride Vulcan while I drive Lucius and blow his mind?
I shot from my seat. “Crap, you need to get down there. Now,” I told Vaxan.
He chuckled, then came to me and grasped my hand.
And then we were teleporting out.
For our too long awaited date night.
It was finally here.
10
~Vaxan~
Utterly frivolous.
Chaotic.
Playfully reckless.
That was what I’d called Zayn’s suggestion to spend a portion of ourdate nightin this manner.
With great affection, I might add.
Adate nightthat had been untimely and awfully delayed.
Now, however, here we were.
And it was all those things I’d accused—and absolutely wonderful for being so.
It was invigorating.
I didn’t drive my magnificent beauty of a car for the thrill of it, for an adrenaline rush like Zayn and Winter clearly did with their motorcycles as I had witnessed in full tonight. It was a smooth drive, something I sank into when I needed to clear my head, didn’t wish to teleport to every given destination, or to use my magic, days in which I wished to perform tasks the mundane way.
It most definitely appeared that I had been missing out.
Because as I tore down the backroads, allowing discipline and responsibility to give way to fun and exhilaration, the rush was all-encompassing.
Winter rode beside me to the right, working his Ducati Panigale hard to keep pace with me. Zayn was to my left on his Triumph Speed Triple. The thunder of their engines collided with mine, creating the sweetest aggressive symphony, as the world whipped on by in a fury—yet one rooted in a sense of peace, if that made due sense.
