Page 93 of Bone’s Choice

I understood now why he liked this.

I smiled inside the helmet. Maybe Wisconsin wasn’t so bad.

We’d been riding for what had to be close to an hour when Bone slowed for a curve and his left hand left the handlebar.

I assumed he was going to adjust something. Instead, he reached back, and his hand landed on my knee.

I froze.

There was no reason for it. He didn’t need to steady me. Didn’t need to tell me anything.

My arms tightened around his waist and his thumb moved once against the inside of my knee.

Barely anything, but my breath caught anyway.

Then his hand disappeared.

Both of his hands returned to the handlebars, and the motorcycle accelerated.

I stared at the back of his head.

Yeah, I’d definitely felt that, and there was no way in hell I’d imagined what it meant.

Eventually, I started recognizing things. A turn. A stretch of road. Trees I’d stared at from my front porch. Then Pink’s house appeared with mine right beside it.

He pulled into my driveway and killed the engine.

Silence rushed in, and for a second, neither of us moved.

“Wow,” I breathed.

Bone looked over his shoulder. “Good?”

“Good?” I laughed. “That was amazing.”

His mouth curved. “Told you.”

“You didn’t tell me anything.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

I reluctantly loosened my arms from around him. “Absolutely.”

I carefully climbed off the bike, and the second my feet hit the driveway, I felt like I was going to tumble over.

Oh God.

I managed to steady myself and pulled the helmet off. My hair had been tied back when we’d left Bing’s, but over the past hour, it had escaped my hair tie and was now a rat’s nest. I ran both hands over it, trying to tame it. “Don’t look at me.”

Bone turned. “What?”

“I probably look insane.”

His gaze traveled over me. Slowly. “You still look good.”

I stared at him.

Bone rested his forearms against the handlebars.