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And I want to see what it is.

I nod. “Okay. Let’s go.”

He releases a breath and stands from the table, gathering our paper plates and carrying them over to the trash can a few yards away. When he turns back to me, he holds out his hand and I take it, lacing my fingers with his. We had the two kisses earlier today and the peck before I got on the bike but I’m still surprised by how easily we slipped into this comfortable rhythm.

The way he holds his hand out to me and I eagerly take it without a thought.

The way it just feels so damn easy to be with him.

There is no pressure, no expectations, and I can’t help but think that he’s exactly what I need right now.

When we reach his bike, he hands the helmet to me and I take it, frowning down at it in my hands.

“What is that look for, baby?” he asks and I meet his eyes.

“Where is your helmet?”

He smirks, taking the helmet from my hands and putting it on my head. “Currently, it’s on you.”

“I don’t like that,” I tell him and he lets out a laugh.

“Why?”

“What if we crash and you’re not wearing a helmet?” I ask, my concern for his safety increasing. He scoffs and presses his hand to my cheek.

“Lennon, if I crash this bike and in any way cause you harm, I hope I’m dead.”

I jerk back and my brows furrow. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. There is a gravity in his gaze that wasn’t there a moment before and I can see that he truly means that. Hurting me, even unintentionally, would devastate him. I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know what to say. So I say nothing, instead reaching up on my tiptoes and pressing my lips to his. With one hand still cradling my face, he wraps his other arm around my back and pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.

I’m lost.

Every time this man kisses me, I lose all my senses.

A whistle fills the air and we pull apart. Dalton glances over at the food truck where the owner is fanning himself and pretending to swoon.

“Shut the fuck up, Nero,” Dalton calls, trying to sound mad but holding back a laugh.

“Miralo,” Nero continues, laughing from inside the truck. “Todo enamorado.”

“And now we’re leaving,” Dalton says, shooting a glare at Nero who lets out another loud, boisterous laugh. Shaking his head, he turns back to me and grabs the straps of the helmet, clipping them under my chin. “Go climb on the bike, babe.”

I shake my head at Nero, who is still making a scene inside the truck, as I walk over to the bike and climb on just like Dalton showed me. Once I’m seated, he swings onto the bike in front of me and I immediately wrap my arms around his waist. My hands flatten against the ridges of his abs and I barely resist the urge to drool. I haven’t even seen his body yet but it feels fucking impressive beneath my hands. And I love being pressed up against him like this as we ride.

The rumble of the engine vibrates through my body, settling right between my legs. Between that and being glued to Dalton, it’s enough to fill my head with indecent thoughts.

Not that I’ve had any trouble getting there all afternoon.

Ever since that kiss in my apartment, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way he felt against me. The way he made my body come alive in a way I’ve never experienced from just a kiss before.

It’s intoxicating.

He’s intoxicating.

“Ready?” Dalton asks over the growl of the engine and I nod, giving him a little squeeze. He pulls out of the parking lot and out onto the street. It didn’t take me any time at all to understand the appeal of riding on a motorcycle.

The rumble of the engine.