Somethin' About That Boy

“Your mom works here. How can you not catch a ride with her?” he asked, sounding less pissy now that Vance was gone.

“My mom has to cook breakfast for all those kids that don’t get food at home in the morning. She has to be here by six-fifteen.” I scrunched up my face in disgust. “And nine times out of ten, I don’t get up early enough. Which means that I have to walk. Which also means that I have to still get up early. And it’s really not a big deal. We don’t live that far away.”

He looked over at me with a grin on his face. A grin that quickly fell away when a vehicle accelerated so fast that we heard it for what was a good thirty seconds. “I’ll pick you up if I survive this trip to your house.”

I winked at him, making his frown not so ferocious.

“I think that you’ll survive,” I teased as I looked at his bike. “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before.”

He handed his helmet over.

“If my mom ever, and I do mean ever, asks you if I gave you my helmet to allow you to have one and me not have one, you lie. I don’t care what you have to say. Make me sound like an asshole that didn’t give you the helmet. Okay?” he paused. “Because that was literally the only reason I was allowed to bring this to Texas with me. She made me promise to always wear the helmet.”

I pushed it back at him. “I’m not lying to your mother!”

He grinned. “Don’t think about it as lying. Think about it as you saving my life.”

I snorted and tried to refuse it one more time, but he reached over my flailing hands and put it securely on my head.

“I’ll go borrow one from my brother tomorrow,” he said. “My sister-in-law’s pregnant and won’t be using hers for a while.”

“Your brother rides?” I asked curiously, watching as he looked at his backpack, then mine.

“You want me to hold both?” I questioned.

He shook his head and put his backpack on the front of him. “Tomorrow we’ll figure something else out,” he said. “In the meantime, we’ll just do this. Hop on.”

I did, and not gracefully either.

My legs were wobbly from my multiple workouts, and I was definitely feeling the burn.

Not to mention I’d never actually climbed onto a motorcycle before.

I mean, I knew the logistics. Those were obvious, but it was much tougher than the badass guys I’d seen do it made it seem.

He laughed when I nearly fell into him and had to put my hands onto his shoulders to catch myself from face planting.

“It’s awkward with a backpack, okay?” I lied.

He snorted and waited until I was situated before he said, “Now scoot as close as you can get. Leave as little room as you can.”

I scooted.

“Closer.”

I scooted some more.

“Closer.”

More.

“Are you scared to touch me or something?” he teased.

I narrowed my eyes and got as close as I possibly could. Which meant that my entire body was practically plastered to his from chest to crotch.

“Better?” I asked, a bit of acid in my tone.

He grinned at me over his shoulder. “Best.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop the elation that poured through me as he started the bike up.

“Wow,” I said as it vibrated underneath me. “I can feel the power.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Hold on.”

I latched my hands around his stomach, holding onto my left wrist with my right hand.

He gassed the bike, and all of a sudden we were shooting through the parking lot at a speed that I’d never experienced before in my life.

I wouldn’t say that I was a completely cautious driver, but I definitely didn’t speed. I didn’t see the point.

Until now.

Now, feeling the wind in my hair, I realized the attraction to speed.

But just as quickly as the acceleration began, it ended.

“As much as I want to show you what this thing’ll do, I can’t,” he said as he pulled out onto the street. “I want your dad to actually like me. I plan on hanging around a lot.”

I smiled against his back, my eyes focused on the road as he bobbed and weaved through traffic.

At one point he took a curve so low that I could’ve reached out and touched the pavement.

“Eeep!” I said as we moved, keeping my body in line with his. “This is so fun!”

But, just as quickly as it started, it was over.

We pulled up into my neighborhood ten minutes later, and wouldn’t you know it, but my dad was out watering his plants.

“Son of a bitch,” I heard muttered.

I grinned and got off the bike, handing the helmet over to Banner before I turned to my dad who’d been the one to make that comment.