25. Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Blake
I know Hunter is just messing with me about my driving, but I still can’t escape my embarrassment from the entire situation. I have been driving since I was sixteen. It’s not like I don’t know how to drive.
“You keep calling me Crash, but if I remember correctly, you were the one who hit me.”
He scoffs. “You came out of nowhere, therefore it was your fault.”
“I was driving straight on the highway, how is that out of nowhere?”
I chuckle. He is not going to let this go. I relent and look back at Charlie. She seems perfectly content riding in the back with her sticker activity book.
As I turn back to face forward, I catch the flex of Hunter’s arm and find myself entranced by his tattoos. They snake up his arm in flashes of color and disappear beneath the top of his sleeve. A large phantom starts on the top of his hand and continues onto his forearm. Suddenly, a question pops into my head. “How many tattoos do you have?”
He glances at me with a smirk. “It would be easier to tell you how much blank space I have on my body.”
“Oh.” I find myself wanting to find all of his tattoos.
“Basically, as you can see, I have two full sleeves. My back and chest are covered, along with my legs, and I have another tattoo that you might get to see if you play your cards right.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“There are little ears listening. You do not want me to answer that.”
Oh, it must be somewhere dirty. Does he have a fucking tattoo on his dick? Maybe on his butt? “Okay, can you at least tell me what it is?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. I’ll leave it a surprise.”
My checks heat at the thought.
I let out a huff and turn toward the trees again. It really is pretty out here. We travel farther away from the city and more toward the hills. The farther we get, the more open land we start to cross.
Viper rides ahead of us with his leathers whipping in the wind and his loud bike roaring over the hills.
I have only ridden a motorcycle once, and that was when I was in my rebellious teenage years. A boy from my high school had one and asked me if I wanted a ride home. I fought it at first because I knew my parents would hate me on the back of that bike, but my curiosity won me out.
It was one of the best and the worst times of my life. It was freeing, the wind against my face and my hair blowing behind me, but it cost me the entire school year of being bullied. The kids poked fun at me for the rest of the year about how fat I looked on the back of that bike. I came to find out the guy had only invited me on a ride because he thought it would be funny to see me on it.
As much as their words hurt, I tried to remember that their words mean nothing. But it never truly worked.
“What is on your mind?” Hunter's voice comes from the silence.
I shake my head. There is no point in talking to him about my childhood nightmares. People are assholes. I’m sure he knows this already. “I’m just watching the trees and the open road, is all.”
“Your forehead is creased, so I thought maybe you were upset.”
I laugh. “Nah, I was just thinking about my first time on a motorcycle.”
“You ride?”
“God, no. I have only ridden once.”
“Well, we will just have to change that, now, won't we?” His devilish grin does something to my lady parts, and I squirm in my seat.
Imagining myself behind him on his motorcycle with the rumble of the engine and my arms around his waist, snuggled so close. Something about that image just feels nice.