“No. This is where I draw the line,” I protest, trying to shrug the sleeves off. “It’s ninety degrees, with about a hundred percent humidity. I’m not wearing a jacket, Theo. I’ll melt before we hit thefirst stoplight.”
“You will wear it. It’s nonnegotiable,” he says, his voice dropping into that authoritative “lead engineer” tone that brooks no argument. He doesn’t wait for me to agree. He reaches out and tugs the zipper up halfway. His knuckles brush against my collarbone in a feather-light touch that feels like a low-voltage spark through the heavy leather.
I reach for the helmet myself, determined to reclaim some shred of my autonomy. I pull it over my head and manage to click the chin strap into place on the first try, despite my hands shaking. I look at him through the visor, expecting a critique on my form. Instead, his brow quirks, and a look of genuine amusement dances in his eyes.
He doesn’t say anything about it, only directs me to climb on.
I do as I’m told, sliding onto the seat. It’s narrower than I expect—a sliver of leather that feels entirely too small to be safe. For a split second, I’m convinced one wrong shift will send us toppling onto the asphalt. Then Theo swings one leg over and settles in front of me, the bike steadying instantly beneath his weight like a ship finding its anchor.
“Lean forward,” he instructs, voice calm through the helmet. “And don’t let go.”
Instincts take over as I wrap my arms around his midsection, my fingertips grazing the edge of his soft shirt. “Come on, Minami, you’ll fall off if you hold me like that. I’m not made of porcelain. I won’t break.”
Flames rocket up my cheeks. I scoot closer. The seat leaves me no choice but to press against him and tighten my grip.
His body is solid under my arms. For a man who works the hours he does, I can’t help but wonder, when does he find the time to work out? And just what is he hiding under that dressshirt?
Whoa.Get it together, Kaori. Where did a thought like that even come from?
I need to remember the hierarchy here. He’s the big boss. I know how this works. He’s off-limits. My current train of thought is a one-way ticket to an awkward HR meeting. I worked too hard to get here. I’m not about to jeopardize it all.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the engine growling to life. The vibration rolls through his body and straight into mine, up my arms and into my chest, until I can’t tell whether the pounding in my ears is the motorcycle or my own heartbeat. My grip tightens.
“Here we go,” Theo calls back.
The motorcycle surges forward. A twinge of fear shoots through me, followed by sparks of exhilaration that spread like wildfire. Because this isn’t atallwhat I expected.
It feels like... I’m riding a coaster. The hum of the engine becomes theclick-clickof a chain lift. The lean of the bike into each turn becomes a perfect banked curve. My pulse doesn’t race from panic, but from thrill-seeking adrenaline. For the first time since I met Theo Riverton, I’m not bracing myself against him. I’m moving with him.
The city blurs into streaks of neon and headlights. I hold on tighter as we peel off the highway and thread through surface streets. As the wind softens against my cheeks, I recognize where we are—the Disney resort area. The pastel hotels, palm-lined boulevards, and carefully sculpted lawns are impossible to mistake. It’s the one part of Florida I’d visited a few times before moving here.
Theo navigates a maze of resort signs and restaurant turnoffs before finally pulling into a private garage beneath a high-rise hotel. The engine cuts off. I remove thehelmet, and my hair springs free in a staticky mess. My legs wobble slightly as I climb off.
“How was it?” he asks, climbing off and taking the helmet from my hands.
My heart is still performing a frantic percussion set against my ribs, and my skin feels like it’s humming. I want to tell him it was the most terrifyingly amazing thing I’ve ever done. For the past twenty minutes, I felt limitless. But I decide instead to play it cool. “It was... good.”
“Brilliant.” He nods. “Come on. This way.”
We step inside the elevator, and when the doors open, all I can manage is “oh.”
The rooftop is an oasis. It is strung with butterfly-shaped lanterns that sway gently in the evening breeze, each casting a pool of warm gold light over the white linens of a table below it. Beyond the glass railing, the silhouette of Cinderella’s Castle glows softly against the velvet-black sky, its spires looking like a dream made of light.
I’m impressed. Okay, that’s not accurate enough. I’m floored. This place is ahhhhhhmazing. My inner Disney nerd is currently doing backflips.
I grew up in a palace. I’ve visited quite a few other castles and equally impressive estates during my life. But there is something about seeing Cinderella’s Castle that is on another level entirely. Real palaces are built for defense or ceremony, but this is a fairy-tale castle. It’s engineered magic, if that makes any sense.
“Hello and welcome,” a hostess says from behind a polished wood podium. “I’m afraid we’re fully booked for?—”
“We have a standing reservation,” Theo cuts in. “Excelsior Parks.”
Recognition flickers across her face, followed by a faintflush. “Of course, Mr. Riverton. I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize you.” She reaches beneath the podium and produces a small key. “Here’s the key to the executive terrace. I’ll let the maître’ d know you’ve arrived. Would you like an escort?”
“That won’t be necessary. We know the way.” He takes the key and turns to me, nodding toward a quieter corridor off to the side. “Come on, Minami. We don’t have much time before it starts.”
“It?” I echo, hurrying after him as we pass floor-to-ceiling windows framing candlelit tables and glasses of wine.
“The fireworks.”
