CHAPTER 06
harley
Ihit the dirt hard, all the air rushing out of my lungs with the jarring contact. The bike reared and flopped over with an awful noise that made me cringe. Hopefully, I hadn’t broken it.
My crashing and eating dirt didn’t stop Maverick from folding over as he laughed at me. With me? I wasn’t entirely amused but rather fascinated with him. His laughter was addictive. That notion was strange to me. Never before had I cared about someone’s laugh.
“Fuck, you suck,” he practically wheezed. He offered me a hand, and I took it, letting him haul me to my feet. As I dusted myself off, he fetched the bike.
“Yup,” I agreed.
“You don’t have to keep trying, you know,” Maverick said, making me scowl. There was no way in hell I was giving up now. We were all in at this point. I was already covered in dirt and sweat. There was no going back. “We can always take the same bike.”
Yeah, right. He had two dirt bikes—his and his brother’s old one. And I knew I could just get on the bike with him to let him do the work, but I was dedicated to getting it right. I wasn’t letting a damn dirt bike get the best of me.
“Just give me the bike,” I told him. He kept it steady for me as I swung a leg over it and settled on it once more. My fingers flexed nervously on the handles. How many more times did I have to fall before I got the hint that I just sucked at this?
To my surprise, the bike jostled slightly, bouncing as Maverick climbed on behind me.
His arm anchored around my chest, and his body pressed against mine.
My heart stuttered. There was no part of me used to being this close to anyone.
Hell, my own parents didn’t hug me. I’d learned young to avoid asking for those.
“Let’s run through it again,” he said. His fingers tapped my left knuckles. I became a little too fascinated with the sparks that danced over my skin where he touched me. “This is the clutch. You pull it when you shift gears. And this…”
He tapped his boot against my right ankle, inciting another blossom of sensations.
“This right here is the rear brake. Be nice to it, or that pretty face of yours is going to look as beat up as mine.”
Pretty. Had he called me pretty?
No one had ever called me that before. At least, not like this.
There were a few jabbing comments about my more delicate features from classmates over the years.
But when Maverick said it, it was different.
Despite the rough edge in his voice, it was somehow softer.
Like he meant it. It made my stomach flip in a way I’d never experienced before—in a way that wasn’t anxiety-fueled.
“No pressure,” I muttered as I tried to shake the feeling.
“Just take it slow, princess. Nice and easy,” Maverick ordered in my ear.
Something weird and wild collided inside me when his breath fanned over my skin.
I blushed with the build of heat inside me, his presence and the pet name doing something to me.
I knew it came from a derogatory place—I knew he was making fun of me—but I still couldn’t bring myself to ask him to stop.
I should’ve, though. What guy wanted to be called princess?
Oh, yeah. Me.
Flustered me did the stupid thing and twisted the throttle too quickly. The bike lurched forward, throwing us both off balance. It toppled and sent us careening into the dirt. Pain lanced through my shoulder, brief and fading quickly.
I groaned, he laughed, and we both just lay there, winded and a little stunned from the crash. I took a long, hard look at the sky as I realized that at the rate I was going, I’d be well acquainted with this view of the world.
Next to me, if Maverick was bothered by any of it, he didn’t show it. In fact, he seemed quite content to just lie there in the dirt and watch the clouds. Who knew? Maybe he was.
Or maybe I’d killed him when his head hit the ground.
I scrutinized him closely, looking for some sign that I’d killed my only real friend.
That stupid, happy grin on his face when he glanced at me told me he was just fine.
It also made my stomach do a ridiculous flip, but we weren’t going to talk about that.
“Do you think we should wear helmets?” I asked.
“Do you plan on killing us?” Maverick shot back.
“No!”
“Then you’ll do better,” he said as he sat up. The words came so simply out of his mouth that I laughed, the sound high-pitched and a little pathetic. He said it like the task was easy, like I could just flip a switch and we’d be fine. He whispered, “Deep breath, princess. I trust you.”
Sitting up, I stared long and hard at him, trying to judge his sanity.
“That’s a dumb idea,” I informed him and enjoyed how he laughed all over again.
My heart pounded wildly as the rush of wind tugged on my clothes. The engine vibrated between my thighs, sending a cascade of sensations over my nerves that I couldn’t quite describe.
Not that I wanted to. I reveled in the rolling waves it offered.
They soothed the ever-present anxiety in unexpected ways, smoothing out the barbed wire in my chest that was usually wound so tight that I could barely breathe.
For once, my thoughts weren’t chasing each other in endless circles.
They were quiet and drowned out by the roar of the bike along the open stretch of road ahead of me.
I chased that high as I sped after Maverick, the distance between us stretching as his expertise made it easier for him to ride. A bubbling laugh spilled out of me, a mixture of excitement and relief. This was reckless and exhilarating—a thing I didn’t know I needed.
I wasn’t thinking about expectations or consequences or the weight of everything waiting for me at home. Out here, nothing was holding me down.
For the first time in my life, I felt free.