We were just two people on a bike on a nice day.
That should’ve felt wrong, instead, it felt like the first full breath I’d taken in weeks.
Anchor turned right at the next intersection, heading toward a smaller county road lined with trees.The ride slowed a little, and I finally moved my hand back to the grip, though McKayla’s arms tightened briefly like she’d noticed.
We rode for nearly forty minutes, looping along back roads where the pavement was smooth enough to let the bikes hum and the fields rolled out in every direction.Shay pointed at something once, Pearl leaned into Anchor through every curve like she’d been born for the back of his bike, and McKayla kept finding things she apparently thought I needed to witness.
Horses.
An old barn painted red.
A tiny farm stand with a crooked sign that said SWEET CORN.
More cows.
The woman liked cows.Good to know.
When we finally looped back toward town, Anchor slowed at a stop sign.Straight ahead led toward the bridge back to Skull Island.Left led toward the ice cream place.
Pearl leaned around Anchor’s shoulder and pointed left.
Anchor’s head turned slightly.Even from behind, I could picture his face.
Annoyed.
Resigned.
Completely whipped.
A second later, his blinker flashed left.
I laughed under my breath.
McKayla leaned closer to my ear.“Are we stopping for ice cream?”
“Yeah.”
“But he said no stopping.”
“He also loves Pearl.”
“So we are stopping for ice cream because Pearl wants ice cream?”
“Yep.”
McKayla’s arms tightened around me, and I heard her laugh through the helmet.“I like her.”
“Most people do.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“She seems good for Anchor.”
I watched Anchor turn into the small ice cream shop parking lot ahead of us, Pearl already looking pleased with herself before he even cut the engine.
“She’s his weakness,” I said.“And his strength.”
