Wind brushed over Zack’s cheeks, chased through his hair. The scents of summer–fresh-mowed grass, baking concrete, something sweet and floral from the shops–all crowded in. Colton’s presence wrapped around him, solid and unshakeable.
Riding through the heart of town, people did double takes, some stared, a few waved. Being perched behind a man like Colton on a Harley was the opposite of subtle. Zack gripped tighter, hands fisting in the cotton of Colton’s shirt.
They passed the bakery, then the hardware store with its open door spilling cool air. Every pothole in the street translated up through the bike and into Zack’s bones, a low, rumbling reminder that he was out of his element.
Colton’s hand covered Zack’s for a moment, giving a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doing great, Blue.”
Blue. Because of his eyes. The nickname hit Zack right in the gut. Maybe it was the way Colton had said it, gentle but rough, like he cared.
Zack watched the world streak past. The sun hit the bike, bounced from chrome to his eyelids. His knees hugged either side of Colton’s hips, and it felt natural, like he was supposed to be there.
When they hit the last light leaving Main, Colton shot him a look over his shoulder. “You ready?”
Ready wasn’t the word. Ready didn’t cover the thrill that ran through Zack, or the way his thighs quivered, or the hope that his terror didn’t make him look like a total wimp.
But he nodded anyway.
Colton downshifted, rolling through the intersection. The bike’s growl grew lower, more dangerous. The buildings dropped away, replaced by open lots and a line of trees crowding the backroad. Something about the stretch of empty space ahead made Zack’s stomach clench.
“Hold on tight, babe,” Colton warned him, and then accelerated.
The rush hit harder than he thought possible. Wind snapped around them, tugging at his hair, pulling at the shirt plastered to his back with sweat. The engine thrummed through his body, made his teeth buzz and his ears ring. He clung harder, plastered against Colton, terrified to move, convinced that letting go would send him flying into the stratosphere.
The road curved, and Colton leaned into it. Zack tried to move with him, but terror froze his muscles. That first turn seriously made him consider never eating solid food again.
But then the curve straightened and the bike smoothed out, the ride steadier than any car he’d ever been in.
His heart finally slowed, settling into a rhythm. The open air was wild and clean, nothing between him and the sky except Colton’s back and the heat of the engine below.
After a minute, he loosened his grip a fraction. The panic was still there, but it took a back seat to the thrill zipping through him.
“See?” Colton called, voice a warm burr under Zack’s ear. “Not so bad.”
Zack thought about his brother’s warning, about turning into roadkill or skidding out in a fiery mess. None of that felt real, not with Colton in charge. The man moved with total confidence, every muscle saying I’ve got you.
They shot past a field where horses grazed, heads lifting as the Harley thundered by. Off the shoulder, wildflowers blurred purple and yellow. Zack leaned his cheek against Colton’s back, feeling the world rush around them, hot wind fluttering the ends of his hair.
By the second mile, the terror completely faded. Something sweet crept in—a kind of freedom he hadn’t tasted since he was a kid. If he let himself, he could almost pretend he was flying.
Zack had started the ride white-knuckled, fingers locked around Colton’s waist, every curve of the road a small heart attack waiting to happen. But somewhere between one back road and the next, the fear cracked open.
The wind shoved at him, warm from the sun-soaked asphalt, and the world blurred into trees and sky and endless pavement. No shouting. No threats. No brother breathing down his neck.
Just the roar of the bike and the wide open road.
So this is what it feels like to breathe.
He tipped his face into the sun and laughed, the sound ripped right out of him by the wind. That stupid, uncontrollable grin people got when the world suddenly felt wide.
Zack couldn’t remember the last time his chest had felt this light, even though he was flying down a road on a machine that could absolutely kill him… and it was the safest he’d ever felt.
Not just safe—more like his body discovering space it didn’t know it was allowed to occupy.
Ahead, the road stretched on into the haze. Colton slowed, taking it easy, letting the bike glide over the curves. Zack matched his breathing to the rumble of the machine.
God. This was what he’d been missing.
He tightened his hold, and Colton covered his hands again, warm and silent.
