Page 5 of Oops! I Fell for the Biker Next Door

Zoey shifts her weight, her breath hitching. "Um, I don't know..."

She tries to sound cautious, but the bite of her lower lip betrays her. Her eyes lock onto mine, flickering with curiosity. She isn't terrified—she's tempted.

Maybe she isn't as innocent-hearted as she used to be.

"I've been riding for a long time, if it makes you feel any better. I'm just going for a quick ride, maybe grab a bite?" Catching myself trying to make my offer sound tempting, I hit her with a smirk. "I'll go slow if it gets too scary for you."

She senses my challenging tone immediately. I can see it in the way her brows lift and her mouth parts. Knowing her response can go two ways, I prepare myself for the rejection. What I don't expect is her to answer by heading toward her wooden steps.

Holy shit, she's going to join me.

Zoey takes no time to close the space between us before she floods me with the smell of autumn and pumpkin spice. Must've been something she put on her skin because it's everywhere, making my mouth water instantly.

Cradling my helmet in my hands to keep them busy, I take in her long blonde hair and picture it flowing behind us. It's a good image.

Approaching her, I enjoy how silky it is against my knuckles as I carefully put my helmet on her. I've never found a need to own two helmets, but now I'm going to have to grab another some time in the near future. That is, if I can convince this beauty to join me more than once.

Clearing my throat as I catch her staring at me through the small gap of the helmet, I can't help but notice the way the tops of her cheeks glow in a pinkish hue.

I give her my back to get on my bike and tap the seat behind me, eager to feel her weight on it.

She doesn't move at first. "How do I...?"

"Grab my shoulder and throw yourself over. I'll warn you, I don't typically have passengers, so it may take me a moment to adjust."

Ever so slowly, she nudges closer. Probably feeling the same wave of fear most riders experience for the first time, her hand finally makes contact with my shoulder. "I was a little surprised to see you alone. Does that mean..."

She doesn't actually ask if I'm single, and that makes me grin. Now I'm getting it. She's as curious as I am.

"No, Zoey. I haven't dated in a long time. Not seriously, anyway." I probably shouldn't tell her about my flings, especially with these damned feelings resurfacing ever since I saw her again. "I didn't see a ring on your finger, either."

She gasps as she sits down, and I can't tell if it's my comment or the movement that brought the reaction out of her. Do I tell her I noticed right away? That part of me demanded I clock such an important detail?

"No," she confirms softly, doing damning things to this thing in my chest. "None of them have wanted to stick around for long. Guess we're the same."

"Mine was by choice," I promise her, a frown forming on my lips at the confession that she's actually been with anyone since I left. She's not mine, so I've got no right to start getting jealous now. "Guess you must've met up with dumbasses then."

Her scoff at my words is drowned out by the firing up of my bike. I rev the engine, giving her no time to question my words as I give her a reason to hug me tight. Shooting out of there, and probably disturbing the entire community with the growl of the engine, a grin splits across my face when the beauty behind me calls the worst name in her dictionary.

"You jerk!" She clings on for dear life, not realizing I wouldn't let an ounce of harm come her way. "What happened to going slow?"

"Well," I call out over the rush of wind, "you're already on. What are you going to do, jump off?"

It's a joke, of course. I ease back on the throttle before we hit the bend, leaning into the turn so she feels the bite of the road without us going airborne.

Her complaints and gasps eventually wane, turning into less fear and more of amazement as the greenery around us melts away into a blur. By the time we reach the base of the mountain, her gasps of wonder lift the hairs on the back of my neck as she looks out at what's in front of us.

When we hit the first red light, I feel her press closer. "How do you not freeze to death on this thing?"

Fuck me, I was too distracted by the idea of getting her behind me that I didn't even think about the cool weather.

"Hold on," I grunt, kicking myself as I change my destination to pull in somewhere to fix this problem right away.

By some miracle, Zoey doesn't run away at the first chance we get when we hit a parking lot. She's too busy watching me dig around my saddlebag for an extra pair of gloves. A leather pair is tucked away at the bottom, faded at the knuckles.

They've made enough contact with assholes' faces that they're a bit worn. I hesitate at the idea of her wearing something that's paired with the history of violence. At the same time, everything I own is the same, so there's no point in trying to avoid it.

Offering them over, she hesitates this time. As if she doesn't expect me to give her anything, her eyes linger before she finally grabs them.