Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Hold on tight, spider monkey
REED
She ate the burger. And all the fries. Had a bite of my pasta too.
I know I was heavy-handed. But I remember those conversations on the couch all those years ago. Her thoughts about her figure are fucked up. I just couldn’t stand it anymore. Once I saw her practically drooling over Kenzie’s plate, I snapped.
“You think my sister will reimburse me?” I joke, tucking my debit card back in my wallet.
Lila sighs, the sound sexy as hell. “I told you I’d pay.”
As I slide out of the booth, I grasp the bag containing Lila’s salad and the extra burger we ordered for my headache-faking sister. “No way. I asked you on the date, so it’s only right I pick up the check.”
“It wasn’t a date,” she chides through a syrupy smile, her eyes flicking to my offered hand.
“Are you sure? Felt like a date.”
After a beat, she slips her delicate fingers into my palm, allowing me to help her to her feet. Heat travels from my hand to my chest. When she stands, I don’t drop back a step like I probably should. It brings her right in front of me so we’re nearly chest to chest.
She makes no move to free her hand from my grasp, which suits me perfectly fine.
I fucking love the feel of her skin. Always have.
Her lashes flutter as she demurely glances at me. “It was supposed to be a friendly meal for the three of us. Mostly, I was hoping you’d catch up with your sister. I was happy being the third wheel.”
With greedy eyes, I study her face, noting the light dusting of freckles on her cheeks. The rosiness of her petal-soft lips. And the richness of her chestnut irises, holding me captive for several seconds.
“Do you think I bought Kenzie’s bullshit migraine excuse? Come on, Lila. I interrogate people for a living. I usually know when I’m being lied to.”
Which reminds me—I’m here for a specific purpose. One that doesn’t involve looking this deeply into her eyes and kissing her until we’re out of breath.
Retreating to give us both some space, I keep hold of her hand and lead her out of the restaurant.
And she lets me.
We’re miles away from all those rejections she’s been flinging at me.
Once we get to my motorcycle, I release her hand to tuck the doggie bag safely in the storage compartment and get the extra helmet I stowed just for her.
Her face loses its rosy glow, growing paler as she stares at my bike. “Uh. What kind-what kind of motorcycle is this? Looks fast.”
“A Ducati Multistrada. And it is very fast, but I won’t drive fast if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Then I won’t. We’ll go nice and slow.”
Her hands visibly tremble as I pass her the helmet. “Promise?”
With wide eyes, she studies the inside of the helmet, shakily pulling the chin strap out.
Instead of watching her fumble with it, I take over and put it on for her.
All the while, her breathing steadily accelerates.
She tries to clasp the buckle under her chin, but her hands aren’t cooperating, so I handle that too.
Unable to resist touching her, I let my knuckles brush down the column of her throat when I’m done.
“Th-thanks,” she stammers, eyes blinking wildly.
Holy shit. She’s really fucking nervous about this.
Starting to feel guilty about that. I don’t want her upset.
Steadying her gently by the upper arms, I lower my face so I’m level with her. “Easy, Lila. I’ll be careful. I swear it’s safe.”
Her apprehension eases by a fraction. “You didn’t promise yet.” She wraps her fingers around my collar, widening her eyes and yanking my face downward. “Say it, Reed. Even if your promises don’t hold water, I still need to hear the words. Promise me. Right now.”
My gut twists at her slight, but I comply with a smile. “I swear on my honor that you’ll be safe. I’ll take good care of you.”
She gives me another yank—sadly not in the way I’d like her to yank me. “And you won’t speed or drive too fast, right?”
I release one of her arms to put my palm over my heart. “I promise I won’t drive too fast.”
Gaze raking over every inch of my face, she nods, the movement growing more vigorous until the helmet bobbles on top of her head comically.
Shouldn’t have put the helmet on so soon. I can’t kiss her through the visor opening, and I’d fucking love to kiss her right now. To help her calm down or give her something else to focus on. And for absolutely no other reason.
Mental Morgan Freeman clears his throat. And now our hero has returned to his natural state of being a delusional asshole.
Dammit. He’s back.
I widen my eyes at Lila. “You ready?”
She exhales a puff of air and rolls her shoulders back. “Yep. Let’s do it before I chicken out.”
“Atta girl.” I turn away slowly. “I’ll get on first and start her up. Then you climb on behind me. Toss your leg over the back.”
“Duh, Reed. Although I’m terrified of motorcycles, I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen movies.”
Adorable. Especially when her saccharine facade breaks.
I get my girl humming—the bike, not Lila. The vibrations rumble through me, giving me that familiar thrilling spike.
This is my joy.
Despite the earlier innuendo in the restaurant in response to Lila’s question, riding is what I do to enjoy life.
It’s probably stupid macho shit, but I don’t give a fuck. Controlling this powerful machine makes me feel alive. The wind whipping across my skin. The electrifying hum of the engine that I hear and feel. Using my entire body to lean into each turn, almost becoming one with the bike.
It’s freedom. And I fucking love it.
For tonight only, I get to share it with a woman who’s been implanted in my head for what seems like ages.
I beckon Lila over with a tip of my head. “I’m all ready for you, cookie.”
Dutifully, she trudges over, grumbling to herself with each step. “Why didn’t we pick a restaurant within walking distance?”
An idea hits me before she slings her leg over, so I stop her. “Do you have your phone on you?”
Not sure why I asked. Who leaves home without their phone anymore? Nobody, that’s who.
“Why?”
“I’ll connect our helmets so we can hear each other while we drive. Make it discoverable for me.”
Eying me with intensity, she drifts her hand toward the slim purse slung across her chest to retrieve the device. I just grin at her. Eventually, she lowers her eyes to swipe across the screen.
Before she turns on the Bluetooth, she cuts a glare at me. One totally at odds with her typical sweetness. “If you’re trying to do some secret FBI hacker stuff, I’ll never forgive you.”
I put my hands up. “I’m not. Honest. Just want to talk to you through the helmet to keep you calm.”
However, I wish I’d thought of that earlier so I could have set something like that up. Probably would have if I were more focused on the mission.
She taps the screen once more. “Fine.”
On my screen, I search for her device. Once it comes up, a braying guffaw races up from the depths of my gut.
“Zip it,” she huffs, stomping the rest of the way to the bike.
My shoulders are still quaking as I tap connect.
Her phone is labeled with a single emoji. Not her name or other descriptor. Not Lila’s Phone. Nope.
A cookie emoji.
It’s perfectly Lila.
By the time she’s slung her leg over the bike and settled onto the seat, my laughter recedes. And when she scoots forward, pressing her thighs around my hips, all traces of humor vaporize.
Fuuuck that feels good. Better than my fantasies.
Ten stars? Not enough.
Lila on my bike with me gets infinity stars.
It takes all my fortitude not to reach around to caress her and pull her even closer. And I mean all of it.
Every. Last. Ounce.
If I concentrate any harder on resisting, I’ll pulverize my teeth from this intense grinding.
I swipe my helmet off the handlebars, throw it on, and address Lila through the microphone. “Comfortable enough?”
“Yeah. Shockingly, the seat seems to be handling my size well.”
“Lucky seat.”
Her only response to my quip is a swift whack on my arm.
“You’re gonna have to hold onto me, cookie. Hands on my waist.”
“You’re never letting that nickname go now, are you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Terrrrific,” she drawls, nothing but sarcasm in her tone.
At first, her hold on me is tentative and faint. I can barely feel her through my thin cotton shirt. There’s no doubt in my mind that’ll change soon, which I’m looking forward to immensely.
“Keep your feet on the pegs. Spine in line with mine as best as you can. Try not to wiggle around unless we’re on a straightaway and warn me first if you need to shift your body weight around more than a tiny bit.”
“Oh no. I have to remember stuff?”
Through a grin, I continue. “Metal parts are hotter than me. So don’t touch them.” I rev the engine a bit. Her grip on my waist tightens. “When we get to our first turn, I’ll talk you through it.”
Without giving her a chance to back out, I slowly pull out of the space. “Here we go.”
She whimpers, the sound magnified in my helmet like an echo. Memories of her making that same sound for a different reason assault me.
Stop it, I chide myself.
I’d rather not get hard right now. I promised I’d keep her safe, and that’s exactly what I’ll do. Need the blood to remain inside my upper head for that.
Initially, I drive slowly to give her a chance to get used to the feel of the bike. My first few turns navigating the parking lot are wide and smooth, nothing requiring much movement. Intentionally, I take the long way to the street, hoping to boost her comfort before I have to increase the speed.
Aside from her ever-tightening hold of me—no complaints here—she doesn’t move much.
Breaking at the stop sign at the edge of the lot, I brace the bike steadily with one leg and tap her right knee. “Okay, Lila. I’m gonna take us on the road now. The bike is going to lean when we turn. Don’t fight the lean. “
Her grip on me tightens. “What do you mean? Like don’t punch it?”
My cheeks ache from my uncharacteristically prolonged smile. “Meaning don’t jerk in the other direction. Just move with me. Think of us as one solid person. Okay?”
“You did this on purpose, didn’t you? You think you’re so slick.”
I scoff playfully. “What? Me? I’d never.”
She harrumphs, her hands loosening again. Sadly.
“Here we go. Remember, body with mine. Keep your feet firm on the pedals and squeeze with your thighs, which I know you’re good at.”
“I really hate you right now.”
“Hold on tight, spider monkey.”
With a laugh braided in her tone, she asks, “Did you just quote Twilight?”
I rev the engine. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Our hero is still a liar.
And Mr. Freeman is still an unwanted guest in my mind.
I glance both ways for oncoming traffic. “Here we go, cookie.”
Once we’re on the road, I give it some gas, steadily ramping up the speed.
“Eep!” she squawks in my ear and presses closer to me. Breasts, thighs, and arms. All of her. Flush against me.
Heaven.
This is my joy, indeed.