His body trembles as he laughs quietly. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
He kicks once and the bike roars to life. I clench my fingers into his shirt as the bike vibrates beneath us. He hesitates for all of half a second after I grip him before he revs the ever-loving shit out of the beast between our legs and pulls away from the curb.
“Shit!” I scream, flying backward with the speed of the bike. I grab blindly at Aidan, my heart thumping wildly as I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face into his back as much as my helmet will allow.
Shit, shit, shit!
He could have warned me about this!
Shit, shit, shit!
Some crazy, high-pitched noise makes my throat buzz, but I don’t know if it’s in protest of my body being pressed so firmly against his or if it’s about the ridiculous speed he’s driving this thing at. Oh my god, is this even legal?
The bike. The speed. Being pressed so hard against Aidan Burke. Although that could probably use a law or two. Like, a don’t-fucking-do-it law.
Dear Mr. Senator, can you have this bill passed? Maybe, like, now?
I tense up as he takes a left. Oh my god, I’m gonna fall off this. Oh my god. Oh my god. I knew he couldn’t be trusted. Why did I do this? Holy crap. I should have walked. Oh no, why is he going right? What kind of crazy bastard is he? Can’t he go straight? Can’t this thing be driven on sidewalks? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
The bike comes to a stop, and I do my best to ignore the shaking of his body and his obvious amusement when he kills the engine and says, “We’re here.”
“Thank fuck,” I breathe, exhaling on a whoosh. I yank the helmet from my head and swing my leg over the back of the bike, slamming the helmet down on the seat so harshly that he has to reach back to catch it before it falls to the ground.
“I’ll wait,” he calls.
“Get comfy,” I yell back, slamming the gate after me. I have zero desire to get on that freaking machine ever again. Either he drives back and gets a car or a truck or something or I’m not going anywhere with him.
“Is that—” Sas starts.
“Yes, and Dad, sit on her!” I stomp up the stairs, ripping my shirt off when I reach the hallway. I throw it into my laundry basket, ignoring it when it falls out, and pull a clean tank top from my drawer. I change out my black pants for ripped denim shorts and my black ballerina flats for white ones to match my shirt. After dousing myself with deodorant and a little perfume and letting my hair down, I go back downstairs and groan.
My sister is pinned against the window, face squished against the cold glass and her hands flattened against it. I bet she looks like Chewbacca or something from the outside.
“Uh, what the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to see him.”
“You’re so freakin’ weird.” I roll my eyes and scoot out the door before she can escape. Dad locks the door behind me, and I pause on the top step.
Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to get back on the bike?
Aidan and his bike or my sister and her Dirty B. obsession.
Oh, Karma . . . Why must you screw with me this way?
I take a deep breath and, closing my eyes briefly, take a moment to think. To just consider what the freaking hell I’m doing standing on my doorstep when Aidan freaking Burke is outside my house waiting for me. To consider what the hell I’m doing considering getting on that asshat’s bike again.
Jesus—I need therapy to deal with him.
The sound of an engine rumbling is followed by a high-pitched shriek from inside my house. I glance at the front-room window and my eyes widen when I see my sister. Holy shit.
She’s no Chewbacca. But she’s the ugliest damn pug I’ve ever seen.
“Dad! Get her away from the window!” I shout, storming down the path to the gate. I can see Aidan’s bike over my mom’s bushes, and damn it all to hell. My sister and her over-the-top obsession have me slamming the gate open and climbing on the back of his bike.
“Think you can make this one without screaming?”
I snatch the helmet and shove it on my head. “Sure. Can’t promise I won’t bite though.”
“Go ahead,” he says quietly, his rich laughter rumbling. “I might like it.”
“Ugh.” I wrap my arms around his waist and snuggle in close before he starts the engine.
Aidan
Holy. Shit.
I’m never, ever fucking putting this chick on the back of my bike ever again.
If her arms around me isn’t bad enough, it’s her tits pressed solidly against my back and the fact I know her pussy is rubbing my ass. Fuck. And in the tiny shorts she’s wearing right now? It’s a mega mindfuck.
In fact, it’s a fuck, fuck, fuck, kinda situation.
As in why the fuck did I kiss her this morning? Why the hell did I bring her close just to shut her ex up? I shouldn’t give a shit. I should’ve taken the damn coffees, paid, and gotten the hell outta Dodge. But no. I had to plant some fucking seeds in Dodge, didn’t I? And then I had to water them by telling that douchebag that I’m her boyfriend.
I have the funniest feeling that ain’t gonna go down well.
In fact, I’m almost certain it’s gonna go down like a shit ton of loose bricks in an earthquake.
Still, though—I can feel her arms wrapped around me tightly, holding her body flush against mine, and it’s different than I thought. She’s so damn soft, so gentle, yet her grip on my shirt is ironclad and her hands are trembling with fear from the bike.
She thinks she’s hard to read.
She isn’t.
Reading Jessie Law is like Einstein reading a picture book.
I turn off the main road and weave down a woody path. Jessie’s fingers tighten against my stomach as we ride over loose sticks and rocks, but she holds on tight until we reach a clearing overlooking a slow-running stream. I kill the engine, and after a second, Jessie pulls her helmet off the way she did at her house, except this time she shoves it at me.
I take it from her, removing my own as she walks toward the small creek, wrapping her arms around herself. The sun glints through a break in the trees and reflects off her bright hair, glowing down onto her arm, her tattoos bright and detailed, yet oddly so perfectly her.
“Who,” she breathes. “The hell do you think you are, Aidan Burke?”
“You answered your own question.” I hang both helmets from the handlebars and kick the stand down, making sure the bike is steady before I dismount.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Jessie turns to me, eyes roaring with anger. “Rolling into the place I work and pulling the stunt you did.”
I hold my arms out. “You were the one whose body was screaming for him to get away from you.”
“And I’m not a damn damsel in distress! This may come as a surprise to you, but some women can fight their own battles, and I happen to be one of them. I was dealing with my fuckturd of an ex just fine until you came along!”
“Yeah? Is shaking like a leaf ‘just fine’?” I question, stepping toward her. “You didn’t look ‘just fine’ to me, sunshine. In fact, you looked fucking petrified.”
“I don’t see how it’s anything to do with you.”
“You’re right. It ain’t. But apparently I have a hero complex.”
“Even with people who don’t need saving?”
“Obviously.”
Jessie folds her arms defensively, her lips pursing. “Take your hero complex and shove it up your ass. I don’t know what the hell you told that piece of shit I dated for too long, but you can tell him it was all lies.”
“Believe me, if it were that easy, I’d be calling his sorry ass.”
“How isn’t it that easy?” She stalks toward me, attitude emanating from her, red hair fluttering across her shoulders. “Dial a number, Aidan. I’m sure even you can work that out.”