Page 18 of Surviving You, Scotch and Sammy 1

I don’t answer with words. The bike is too loud anyway, instead I bravely move my hands from their death grip on his stomach and I squeeze his hips. I put an inch or two between our bodies and I smile at the exhilaration of my hair flying in the wind behind.

“I knew you’d love it,” he shouts over the wind. We slow down for another turn, then like a rollercoaster, he speeds up and we take off flying and spitting dirt and rocks behind us.

I bravely lean back further, and then letting go of all sanity completely, I take my hands from his hips and lift them in the air. I scream with exhilaration as Sam speeds up a little more and my hair whips in a million different directions.

I love being on his bike. I’ve never felt so free in all my life.

He keeps us moving steadily forward for a long minute, allowing me the freedom to keep my arms skyward. My smile hurts my face, my eyes water from the wind, my hair whips my skin almost painfully; but I’ve never been so happy in my life.

I grab on tight and press my chest to his back a minute later, then we just cruise around at high speed on well-worn dirt roads for a little while longer. Thirty or so minutes later, my entire body has melted into his and my head is resting against his shoulder blades. I’m so relaxed with the silence of the world beside the white noise of the bike’s engine, I could actually fall asleep. I’d fall asleep with my arms around Sam’s body any day. I trust him completely.

Eventually, we have to head back to town, but before we enter the town’s limits again, we stop on the side of a narrow tarred road. Sam cuts the engine, then sitting up straight, his fingers stroke mine at his stomach. “Did you like that?”

I pull his heavy helmet from my head and rest it on my knee. My smile can’t be dimmed. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt as happy as I am right now. “Can we do that again soon? On the weekend maybe?”

His face turns as far toward me as he can manage while still sitting front on. His beautiful blue eyes meet mine, and I barely stop myself from fingering the curls that catch in his lashes. “We can do this every day for the rest of our lives, Ricci. Every single day.” He puckers his lips in invitation, so I lean forward and let him kiss me sweetly. “You have my number. You just text me any time and I’ll be there. Any time. No matter what.”

“Thank you.” I brazenly kiss his shoulder. I’ve kissed his lips before, and he’s kissed about every inch of my entire face and neck and shoulders, but I feel like kissing him so causally in a non-usual spot feels different. Intimate. We’ve gone from nothing at all, to this, in such a short amount of time. I’m terrified. I’m thrilled. My emotionally charged teenage brain and heart says I’m in love.

I was so worried of my willpower faltering when it came time to escape this town next year. I told him this was a bad idea, but one single week with the sweetest and kindest and most gentle man in the whole world, and my creative and emotional teenage heart is already screwing me over.

“Come on, Ricci. It’s nearly four. Time for work.”

“I’d rather stay here with you.”

He smiles so sweetly and turns on the bike until his bag is almost touching me. His hands come up to cup my face and his lips press down over mine. “We’ll come back, I swear.”

“Okay.”

“I still love you. You think I’m being silly, but I’m not. I mean it with my whole heart.”

I don’t say it back. I can’t say it without meaning it, and I can’t mean it without giving up my dreams of escape and working with children. I feel it, but I refuse to admit it today.

In less than one week of being with him, I’m already being forced to choose between him and the plans I’ve been making for years. I knew this was a bad idea, yet it feels so good.

Dammit.

“Come on, Sammy. Put your helmet back on. I have to go practice with the guys. They’re already calling me a slacker.”

“Thank you for this. It’s been so much fun.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime you wanna ride, just call me.”

“I will. I promise.”

– Scotch –

Arrival of The Snitch

“So it’s going well then?”

I stop on the spot as I walk into my parent’s garage, and I smile at the band. They’re all here, already set up and waiting for me like they have been all week. I’ve been so slack, trading any spare minute I have, even at the expense of the guys, and willingly studying simply because my new tutor is beautiful and lets me kiss her every time I get a correct answer.

“I’m sorry, guys.” I walk to the back wall and toss my school bag to the floor, then I grab my guitar and flip the strap over my head. “We can just start. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Luc chuckles from his seat behind the opal white drum kit. “I asked you a question, jackass.”

I turn back around to face him. “What?”

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