Page 72 of Keep Me

My eyes trail up and down her body as she approaches me, making me tighten my grip on the handlebar. She’s wearing those ripped jeans I love so much, the ones her ass looks phenomenal in, with a Beatles graphic tee and our school’s ball cap on her head.

When she’s close enough, I lift off the bike and pull her into me, kissing her hard.

Camille falls right into it, her hands resting around my neck as I palm her ass with both hands.

“Hi,” she says once we part, silvery eyes sparkling.

“Hi, you ready to get out of here?”

“That’s kind of my thing, running away. So yes, more than ready.” Camille giggles at herself, making me smirk as I shake my head.

She’s too fucking cute.

I help her with the helmet, making sure it’s secure and safe. Once I’m seated on the bike, I hold out my hand for her to get on, and she takes it as she lifts her leg and straddles the back of the bike with ease.

This time, she scoots closer of her own accord, her front nestled to my back as her arms wrap tightly around me.

“Hold on, princess,” I yell over the rev of the engine.

“Always,” she yells back.

We pull up to my mom’s house, a small cottage-style home. It’s all my mom and I ever needed, enough space for the two of us and a backyard I could practice throwing a baseball in. I’m going to miss this place once she moves in with Paul, Aurora’s dad.

She bought it after my dad left because she wanted to start our lives anew, and that meant a new house. One she loved, unlike our previous one that she had no say in. My dad was a dictator, always wanting things to go his way, never meeting my mom halfway.

We made a lot of memories in this house, and I’m grateful he’s never tainted the walls with his harsh remarks.

I kill the engine and we dismount, removing our helmets.

Camille’s brows pinch, looking at the house in curiosity. “Where are we?”

“This is my house.” I guide her toward the steps and unlock the front door.

“Wait.” She stops. “Am I meeting your mom? I would’ve worn something more presentable.”

I pull her toward me and slide my hand up her waist, stopping with my fingers under her chin. “She’s not home, but even if she were, you look amazing. You always do.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to her forehead, then pull away with her hand in mine as I lead her toward the backyard.

“What are we doing here? I thought we were escaping?”

“We will, but there’s something I thought you might like to do first,” I say, surprised at the nerves ratcheting inside me. I stop once we’re in front of a bed of dirt, with various packets of flower seeds beside it.

Camille stills, her eyes bouncing from the flower bed to the unplanted seeds. “Ryker, what is this?” She chokes on the end of her words.

I wrap my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on the top of her head. “It’s your own garden. You mentioned missing gardening, so I thought this would make you feel better today.”

Her body vibrates underneath mine, and I worry I did something wrong as she turns in my arms with tears strolling down her cheeks. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Better than your brother breaking you out of your own country?” I joke, trying to make her smile while I wipe away her tears.

It works and fuck, the rush of joy I get from seeing it should be bottled up and sold as a top tier drug.

“Yes, this is amazing. But you seriously want me to garden here?” she asks, looking for the reassurance I’m more than willing to give.

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t mean it. My mom is too busy to get one started and I know she’d love it. You’re more than welcome to come over and take care of it whenever you want.”

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