Page 75 of How to Love a Rockstar

“In a manner of speaking.” I glare at him. “What?”

“You’re being deliberately vague.”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I gave it away.”

Darn it. He’s right. I pick up a pair of tennis shoes. “These okay?”

“Yep.”

Tennis shoes are okay, I muse as I put them on. We’re obviously not going to a fancy restaurant. Where could we possibly be going?

“Do I need my purse?” I ask once I’m wearing the appropriate footwear.

“Nope.”

Dylan grasps my hand and leads me out of my apartment and down the stairs. “May I cover your eyes?”

I bounce up and down. This is so fun! “Yes.”

“Here we go.” He holds a hand in front of my eyes and steers me outside. We don’t walk far. Maybe a few feet before we stop. “You ready?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.”

He chuckles as he removes his hands. “Ta-da!”

There are two bikes standing next to one another. One is pink with tassels on the handlebars and a white basket up front. It’s cute and exactly what I wanted for my sixteenth birthday.

My eyes itch and I sniff. Dylan pulls me into his arms. “Do you not like it? I can return it. No big deal.”

“You are not returning my bike!” I shout loud enough for the entire state of Colorado to hear. “How did you know?”

“I asked Indigo.”

“You’re cheating but I’ll allow it this one time because I have a pretty pink bike.”

“How am I cheating?”

“You just are,” I declare before rushing to the bike –mybike. I run my hand along the frame.

“You like it?”

“I don’t like it. I love it! Thank you!” I throw myself at Dylan. I don’t worry about him catching me. I trust him. He’ll always catch me.

I trust Dylan? When did this happen? Nope. I’m not worrying about it. Not today.

Dylan holds me tight. I usually enjoy his arms around me but I squirm to get away. I want to try out my new bike.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

I don’t wait for his response before jumping on my bike and pedaling around the parking lot. I’m a little unsteady at first. It’s been years since I rode a bike. But I quickly get the hang of it.

“Come on, slow poke,” I yell at Dylan when he merely stands there.

He climbs onto the other bike and together we bike out of the parking lot.

“Where should we go?” I ask.

“I have a route planned.”

---