“Would you take this if I wasn’t here?”
“No, I’d walk.”
“Then let’s walk.”
“Get on, Rebel.”
“Why have you started calling me that?”
I always called her that in my head, but I could never say it out loud.
“Because you’re stubborn as fuck and you don’t do what you’re told. Let’s go.”
I get on, and she slides on behind me, and I immediately regret my life choices. Because for the second time in one day, Lena has her front pressed to me, and she rests her cheek in the center of my back.
It’s intimate.
It’s too fucking much.
So I hop off and grip her by the hips, scooting her forward.
“This is the gas,” I tell her. “This is the brake. It’s easy to steer, and you don’t have to shift gears. I’ll meet you there.”
“I can—”
“Go.” I take off at a jog, not glancing back to see if she’s going to drive the stupid thing. If she gets off and goes inside, I don’t care. I’ll tell Willow that Lena was tired or not feeling well.
But the engine revs, and a few seconds later, she comes inching up next to me.
She doesn’t pull away from me, keeping pace as I run faster than she ever could, stretching my muscles and lungs, finally getting a good workout in for the day, even if it is a short half a mile.
When we reach the farmhouse, I cut the engine on the four-wheeler, and Lena hops off, frowning at me.
“Were you trying to make me feel like shit?”
“About what?”
“About how fast I can’t run. Jesus, who are you, Captain America?”
I can’t help but laugh at that, and Lena’s face softens as she laughs with me, breaking the tension between us.
“I can’t do that with you,” she says, shaking her head sadly. “Not even once I get used to the altitude.”
“I have longer legs than you.”
“Yeah, and you must take your Flintstones vitamins too.”
Lips twitching, I gesture for her to climb the stairs to the front door. “I take two a day.”
“I knew it.”
I open the door and find Willow already walking our way.
She’snotsmiling.
Fuck, this could be bad.
“Hello, I’m—” Lena begins, but Willow cuts her off.
