‘Keep your feet here,’ he says, giving my ankle a firm squeeze. I nod as his hands reach for mine next. He places them firmly around his waist. My front is entirely flush with his back and he turns to look forward.
‘Hold on tight, and don’t fucking let go!’
I nod and nuzzle into him, feeling the cool leather of his jacket on my cheek. He revs the bike and the vibration shakes my entire body. The back wheel fishtails and we race down the street. Just as I think we’re away, he does a complete turn, racing back to Erik. My heart surges into my throat as we get closer, my stomach in knots. I hear Ryker laugh and notice he’s flipping Erik off, who’s scowling as we circle around him, leaving a cloud of burnout smoke.
Erik points at us. ‘You’ll fucking regret this!’
Then Ryker hammers down on the throttle and takes off. My body jerks and I yelp, squeezing my eyes shut. He runs his hand over mine.
‘Tighter,’ he bites out. ‘Like in the art room.’
I do as he says and hug him tight. My heart pounds and my stomach turns, but I’m confused by this flood of emotions. I can’t work out if I like this or not. If I do like it, it’s because of Ryker. Even armoured in leather and with danger around us, he still draws me in. I feel his warmth and rigid muscles, and I nestle in closer.
Yes, I definitely only like it because of Ryker. I feel safe with him.
We race over the top of the hill behind the open fields of the college. We zip over a dip in the road that makes my stomach vault skyward. I gasp and hold him tighter, burying into his back, breathing the leather and bergamot. He veers right, then left. Our bodies tip from side to side. It feels as if I’m going to fall, and I scream.
Instinctively, my hands leave his sternum, but Ryker grasps my fingers and wraps them back around his body, letting his thumb thrum against my skin a few times.
‘You’re safer holding here,’ he yells back, holding my hands against his chest.
When he’s satisfied I won’t let go again, his arm reaches around and caresses my left thigh. Even with the terror, a rush of heat and energy swirls around where he touches me.
I close my eyes to feel the wind. When I open them again, instead of seeing a blur of trees and ocean, it’s like time slows right down. I see how dusk filters through the trees above us, a whirling canopy of colours. Beautiful and fluid.
‘See this next turn?’ he asks, slowing the bike.
Ahead, there’s a sharp left turn in the road that leads to the lookout at Point Black. I inhale the first slow breath I’ve taken since getting on his bike. It feels different. Free.
‘Move with me. Lean left,’ he says, and when he leans on the next turn, I follow. But it’s too scary, so I pull back, recentring myself.
‘You gotta trust, Gianna,’ Ryker says. ‘We’ve got one more. Try and trust.’
I sneak a look forward where the sharp left turns into an S-bend. He starts the turn and I release my breath as I lean with him, giving in.
We feel seamless. Effortless. Smooth.
As if we’re one.
‘Yeah!’ A cheer leaves his lips. ‘That’s it, Gianna!’
My shoulders relax, and now I feel the air. How it cuts around us and carries us. I no longer feel like I’m falling; I feel like we’re flying.
Note to self: paint this feeling later.
I squeeze him, letting my hands run down and across his body. Something awakens in my tummy and I clench my thighs together, feeling Ryker’s hard body between my legs.
He groans, a rumble that seeps into my bones. ‘You’re driving me fucking crazy, Gianna.’
Heat rushes to my neck and spreads up to my cheeks. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this with him before. A crush, sure, but this feels … intense.
Ryker guides the bike to the top of the steep hill behind the grounds of ECU, known as Black Point, and hits the kill switch. Adjusting to hearing nothing but the faint crash of the ocean takes a moment. He offers his hand to help me off and doesn’t let go of me. He loops his fingers through mine, leading us to stand at the edge of the cliff. He reaches under my chin, his fingers brushing my neck and leaving sparkles of electricity in their wake, and he removes the helmet. I’m on such a high that the cool air feels like a drug.
The crisp breeze carries the scent of saltwater and the noise of the waves breaking below. The lights of every beach house along the shoreline below glimmer and turn into tiny bokeh points.
‘Why’d you follow us?’ Ryker’s smooth voice is filled with curiosity. He picks up a few small rocks and throws them one by one over the ledge, their pitter-patter a reminder of how far down the drop is.
‘I just … I …’ I do the same, dropping a pebble. ‘I was sick of telling myself “Could you imagine if …?”’
