Chapter 2
The bike rolls down the dirt lane to my house, and Chase lifts his feet. He calls over his shoulder with his face shield still up, “You’ll need to hold on tighter than that.”
But I don’t. My fingers won’t do it.
I’m chanting, “Nope. Nope. Nope,” as I press my feet down on the pegs and rise.
“What are you doing?” He maintains the slow speed, but I feel the bike tip a bit to one side as my weight shifts.
The alarm bells in my brain clang loudly, and before I know what I’m doing, my ass is off the seat, and I’m swinging my leg over the back of the bike. All my weight is on one peg, and before I can stop, I jump. I hurl myself off the back of the moving motorcycle.
My brain doesn’t protest. In fact, it’s still chanting NOPE NOPE NOPE like I’m doing something sane.
I drop to the road while scream-giggling and hop on one foot as the bike rolls away for a beat. But my balance is gone. I can feel gravity pulling me down, so I lean in and pitch myself into the tall grass on the side of the road.
Chase stops the bike, flicks the kickstand out with his boot, before setting the machine in place. Engine still running, he yanks his helmet off, tosses it aside, and rushes over to me. “What happened? Are you okay?” And then, “Did you jump off?”
He’s on his knees next to me, looking me over. When he sees my face, a smile spreads across his lips.
I’m laughing so hard, tears are rolling down my cheeks. I’m curled into a ball on my side with little prickly burrs stabbing me through my jeans.
When I can finally speak, I gasp, “Holy fuck! I jumped off!”
“I saw. Not the typical reaction.” He says it deadpan.
I’m not sure if it’s from the conversation before, but it doesn’t matter because the statement makes me laugh so hard it hurts. I double up, knees to chest, unable to stop laughing.
Chase sits next to me, grins, and chuckles with me for a few moments. He shoves my shoulder gently, playfully. “You are such a…” He pauses, looking down at me.
I roll onto my back. My eyebrows inch higher, toward my Crayola hair. “A what?”
“Not what I expected. Come on. I think it’s Hyundai time.” He stands and holds out a hand to help me up.
I push up off the ground, shaking my head. “No way. I can do this. I already did the hard part.”
“Getting off?” He grins at me.
I nearly choke and then slap his arm. “No! Yes!”
“You’re so decisive. Tell me, Miss Bree,” Chase asks, his blue gaze flicking up to meet mine before he asks, “which vehicle will we be riding today? Or should we just roll around in your driveway and get dirty?”
“You’re dirty!”
“Me?” he asks, confused, pressing a hand to his chest. To that light blue shirt with the white buttons. There’s not a designer brand on this man, yet he holds himself like he is the label. It’s alluring. He’s alluring.
“Yes, you.” I hold his gaze for a moment before looking over at the motorcycle. “And I want to try the bike again.”
Chase nods slowly, walks over to fetch his helmet, then to the bike before he reaches for the keys and kills the engine. The smile falls off my face as my heart sinks. He’s going to insist on the car.
Chase turns back around and pauses. Looking me straight in the eye, he sounds completely serious, “As long as you don’t get off without me again. You need to wait. That was a little rude.”
The innuendo is too much. I can’t hide my smile or choke back my laughter. “I’ll stay on. Promise.” I beam up at him and grab his hand.
“Good,” he adds dryly, “because there’s a survey at the end.”