Page 23 of Old Habits

“Nobody,” he says. I raise a brow. “Jovie, I swear, nobody has worn that thing but you.”

“The strap is wrong.”

He pauses. “What?”

I hold it out to him. “I made a notch in the strap to easily secure optimum snugness for my head.”

“So?”

“So, now, it’s moved.”

“I move the strap when I clean it.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Jovie...” he smirks, “just put it on.”

I sigh and adjust the strap to its proper place. “Fine.” I push my hair back to keep it from getting caught as I pull the helmet onto my head. “Smells like a nightclub in here…”

“Who knew you were the jealous type?” he chuckles.

I stare through the shield. “So, where are we going?” I ask, sliding onto the seat behind him.

“Lucky’s?” he suggests.

“Sounds good.”

He revs the engine again, sending a flurry of delightful vibrations through my core.

“Oh, baby...” I say again.

He glares over his shoulder at me.

“Who knew you were the jealous type?” I parrot back as I slam the shield down.

We take off at top speed through the neighborhood. Wind rushes past and I rest my hands on his waist to hold me up. Fire and lightning shoot up my arms the moment I touch him. I flinch and hope to God he doesn’t notice my quivering fingers.

Will, Jovie, and the Bolt. I can’t begin to guess how many times the two of us rode through town like this, swerving through the empty streets in the middle of the night. No one around. Nothing to stop us. Of course, if we rode in one place too long, the sheriff would show up, but we usually managed to stay ahead of him. We had our regular haunts. The quiet places where we could pull over and sit beneath the stars.

My heart slams in my chest.

It all comes back so quickly…

We ride into the parking lot of Lucky’s bar at the far edge of town, just off the highway. The lot is mostly deserted, as it usually was on a weeknight. Will and I didn’t exactly spend a lot of time on the inside of the place before, what with the lack of legal drinking age, but we got to know the dark, abandoned corners of the parking lot very well.

Will packs our helmets into the seat before we head inside. My ears fill with that soft twang of country music and I recoil from the stench of cigarette smoke but neither irks me as much as the dozen pairs of eyes burning holes through my skull right now.

Every drinker and pool player, every bartender and waiter, Lucky herself included. They all come to a grinding halt as if my mere existence offended them. Hell, it probably does.

“Uh-oh...”

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