I stuff some shoes into one of the bags he’s holding. “Did it work?”
“Mostly.” He glances at me. “Still can’t sleep great. But now when I can’t sleep, I paddle out at five in the morning and watch the sun come up, so it’s a better problem to have.”
I think about the specific shape of the thing he’s describing—the need to move, to do something physical with the weight of what you’ve been carrying. I know that shape. It’s why I was in the water at six thirty this morning on my own before coming in for some breakfast and heading back out.
“Anyway, if you ever want, I can show you some tricks in the water,” he offers.
“I’ll take you up on those lessons,” I say. “If we get the chance.”
“We’ll get the chance.” He says it like it’s settled.
“You’re very confident about the future for someone who met me this morning.”
“One of us has to be.” He chuckles as I take the now-full bags from him and do one last check that I haven’t left anything behind.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him drift around the front of the van, slow and casual, like he’s just giving it another once-over. I step down properly and catch him crouching briefly near the front tire, his hand disappearing under the body for a second before he straightens again.
Then he just strolls on, heading over to where Koa has reappeared with a clipboard in hand.
They talk quietly for a minute. I can’t hear any of it, but Koa makes a note, nods once, and Luca heads back toward me.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yep.” He takes the bags from my hands, then closes the van doors gently.
We head back around to the bike, and he pops open the compartment under the seat. It’s somehow bigger than it looks, because both bags fit inside without a fight.
I stare at it. “That is deep.”
He glances up. “What is?”
“The fact that your ridiculous murder-bike also has practical storage.”
That gorgeous smile returns. “No one gets on this bike but me. Ever.” He says it like that explains everything.
I take the helmet he hands me. “And yet here I am.”
He watches me turn it over in my hands. “Consider yourself exclusive company.”
“I feel incredibly honored,” I murmur. “I’ll add it to my résumé.”
He swings one leg over the bike and looks back at me, amused. “What would that even say?”
“Trusted by large Alpha with a motorcycle,” I say. “Very niche credential. Highly transferable skills.”
That gets a real grin out of him. Sunlight catches in his eyes, and for half a second, I just stare at him. Honestly, it’s irritating how handsome he is.
“So,” I say, because staring is not a hobby I should be indulging in. “You and the guys. No Omegas?”
“Not currently.” He settles his hands on the bars. “We’ve dated but nothing stayed.”
I tip my head. “Interesting.”
He glances over at me. “That judgment?”
“Nope. Observation.”
“Mm-hmm.” He keeps staring at me. “Get on.”
