‘AJ, this must have been so expensive.’
‘Well, we can’t have you on the back of my motorcycle not being safe, can we?’
I turn my head toward his. He dips his chin, presses his lips to my shoulder blade and trails gentle kisses along my skin.
‘I’m coming riding with you?’ I ask.
‘Uh-huh. Only if you want to.’
‘I want to.’
‘Then, let’s go.’
I quickly change. AJ holds my hand all the way back downstairs. It’s the first time he’s done so in public.
‘This is a different bike to before,’ I comment, because the butterflies have been replaced by full-on nerves at the thought of riding with him again.
‘This is myothermotorcycle,’ he says with a lop-sided grin. ‘I have two. This one is better for riding two-up.’
‘What is this one?’
‘Kawasaki Ninja. When it comes to engineering accuracy, the Japanese kick ass. Their technology is cutting-edge.’
I reach out and run my fingers over the saddle. I’ve always admired how comfortable AJ is around bikes. But to me, they’re unfamiliar. ‘Remind me what I do again?’
He squeezes my fingers. ‘Do exactly as I do. Sit close to me. When I lean, so do you. No sudden movements. It’s a lightweight bike. I’ll go easy on the throttle.’
He helps me with the helmet, taking time to check that it fits me properly. A thrill goes through me when I watch him start the engine, and the bike bursts into life. When I climb on the back, I slide my arms around his waist, only for him to place a hand over my arm and squeeze it in reassurance. The moment he does so, I feel my heart flip over in my chest.
When we’re out on the road, I love the feel of the bike beneath me, the way AJ takes control. A shiver travels the length of my spine when we reach the highway, and suddenly it feels as though we’re flying.
The sun is already low on the horizon when we reach our destination. When AJ switches off the engine, I remove my helmet and take in the scene: a field, overgrown with long grass, with a single oak tree.
I dismount from the bike. AJ follows suit and removes his helmet. He’s come prepared, with a blanket for us to sit on. He parks the bike, then lays the blanket out at the base of the oak.
I take a seat, leaning my back against thick, sturdy bark. The sky is dappled with orange and purple streaks as AJ comes to rest between my legs, his back pressed into my chest.
‘Is this all right?’ he asks. ‘Figure I like riding with you behind me.’
I grin and wrap my arms around him, in the same place as they were throughout our journey. ‘I like riding with you too,’ I say.
I have to check myself, more than once. Because AJ is between my legs. His entire body leans into me for support. My head rests against his shoulder and my fingers caress the base of his hairline. He seems relaxed. Happy. We’re so close I can feel him breathing.
For a while, we sit in silence and watch the sky. The wind rustles the long grass.
‘When have you been out here before?’ I ask.
It’s a long while before he answers. He seems to tense up before he gives a heavy sigh. ‘When Mo died, I used to come out here on my own. I used to talk to him, like he was still here.’
We’re silent for a moment, listening to the sound of the grass swaying.
‘How long ago was this?’ I ask.
‘Little over a year.’
‘What would he have said to you back then?’
‘Would prolly have told me to move on. That him not being here shouldn’t stop me from living my life.’
