Page 44 of My Dream

I swung my leg over my bike, settled onto the seat, and gripped the handlebars. The familiar feel of the bike beneath me was like home. Fallon stepped up behind me, slid onto the seat, and wrapped her arms around my waist.

Her body molded to mine, and her warmth seeped through the layers of leather and denim. This—right here—had become the number one reason why I liked riding. Having Fallon pressed against me like this was fucking perfect.

Yarder pulled out first, and Poppy held on tight behind him. I followed, Fallon’s arms firm around me as we joined the line. Behind us, Fade and Adalee brought up the rear, with the camera crew’s van trailing at a safe distance.

On the ride here, the crew had been getting roller shots, with their cameras capturing us from every angle. I had to admit, even I thought that was pretty cool. Watching them maneuver their equipment and coordinate the shots while keeping pace with us on the road was impressive.

The hum of the engine beneath me and the wind cutting past us drowned out any lingering doubts or frustrations from earlier. This was where I felt most at peace—on the road, with Fallon holding on like she’d never let go.

The ride back to the clubhouse wasn’t long, but I enjoyed every second of it. This morning had been Fallon’s first ride on my bike, and she loved it.

Now, there was only one more thing she needed to ride to really become mine.

When we pulled into the lot, everyone parked their bikes in near-unison like we had done this a thousand times before. Fallon climbed off first and pulled off her helmet to shake out her hair.

“You like riding, babe?” I asked.

“We’ve only gone about fifteen miles total, but I freaking love it.” She smiled wide, her cheeks flushed from the wind. “Do you think we can go for a longer ride later?”

I nodded and reached out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Soon,” I promised.

The rest of the crew dismounted, and Yarder clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “I think it’s time for a drink.”

Fallon held up her hands. “Um, I think I am going to stick to lemonade today.”

I grabbed her hand and threaded my fingers through hers. “How about a spiked lemonade?” I suggested.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Compass?” she laughed.

“Just one drink to loosen you up.”

Chapter Eighteen

Fallon

“Are you sure you don’t want another one?” Dove asked and quirked an eyebrow as she leaned on the bar.

I shook my head with a laugh. “I’m good with two,” I said and nodded to my empty glass of water. “Though I’ll take one more of those.” I had learned my lesson.

Dove grinned and grabbed my glass, then turned to the sink to refill it. She set the refill in front of me and smiled. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” I said and took a sip.

Dove studied me for a moment, her gaze softer than usual.

“Um, can I ask you something?” I ventured, hesitant. I still felt like there was a wall between us—a small one, but there nonetheless.

“Hit me, girl,” she said and tilted her head with a small, encouraging smile.

Now, I kind of wished I’d gone for a third drink to help with my nerves. I fidgeted with the glass in front of me. “I, uh…” Yeah, this was going great.

“My dad?” Dove said suddenly, her voice low but steady.

I blinked, surprised. “Um, yeah. How did you know that’s what I wanted to say?”

She chuckled softly and shook her head. “Because I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the same thing.”

That threw me off balance. “Oh,” I said quietly, then cleared my throat. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t hate me because I worked for him.”

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