Page 30 of The Good Girl

I don’t know if it’s an order or a plea, but I find myself giving in. “Fine. One ride, but I need to go back to my car first. My luggage is still in the trunk from my trip, and I know I have jeans in there.”

“Alright, let’s go before everyone else wakes up.”

“Wait. Why? What’s your hurry?”

“You don’t want them asking too many questions, do you?”

“Good point.”

I quickly run into the bathroom and clean myself up. When I come out, Havoc’s waiting for me exactly where I left him. He takes my hand and holds it tightly. I try to pull it free, but he won’t let go. With a sigh, I give up, knowing he’ll have to let go eventually.

He leads me out the back, the same way I snuck out after our night together. Just like then, nobody sees us.

When we get to my car, I pop the trunk and dig through my suitcase until I find some jeans, my sneakers, and a pair of panties. Feeling Havoc’s watchful eyes on me, I ask him to turn around, and he does, reluctantly. Once he’s facing the other way, I quickly pull on my panties and jeans under my skirt. After fastening them, I tug my skirt down and throw it in the back with the rest of my things, then put on my sneakers. Grabbing my phone from my skirt, I shove it in my jeans pocket before shutting the trunk.

"Okay. I'm ready," I say, and he turns back to me.

“The RV is still on set. Not sure if the police have released it or not yet, but I’ll call G and find out later. In the meantime, we can drop your car back at the campsite while we ride. If the cops release the RV, it’ll save you from coming back here if you don’t want to. And if they don’t, I’ll return you to your car and you can drive back here and crash in one of the spare rooms without anyone knowing you were with me.”

“I’m not ashamed to be seen with you, Havoc; I’m just not ready for all the questions and assumptions that come with being seen riding on the back of your bike.”

“I know. So you good with this plan?”

“I guess, but I’ve got my MacBook and other things in the trunk. I don’t like the idea of leaving them in the car while nobody’s around.”

“It’ll fit in my saddlebags. We can take it with us.”

I sigh because he’s not going to let this go. Suck it up, Nevaeh, it’s just a bike ride.

He takes my key, opens the door for me, and helps me get in.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he says, pressing the key into my palm before he closes the door and heads over to his bike.

So what if I watch his ass as he leaves? It’s not like it means anything.

I start the car and pull up to the gates and wait for Dice to open them. Once they’re open, he nods at me, and I drive through, taking a deep, steadying breath.

There’d been a part of me that was worried Havoc wouldn’t let me go. He seemed so obsessed with the idea of us that I was looking for ways to escape. But now, at least, he seems to have calmed down a little.

I check the rearview mirror and see him behind me. I chew my lip, wondering whether going for a ride with him is a smart idea. Maybe him realizing that we have nothing in common will be the best way to move on.

I pull into the lot and park, turning off the engine. I climb out of my car and wait for Havoc’s bike to stop before walking over to him.

“I don’t have a helmet,” I tell him as he pulls his off.

“You can wear mine,” he says.

I protest, but he eases it on my head and clips the strap under my chin. “Get on. And watch out for the pipes. They get hot.”

I place my hands on his shoulders and use him as leverage as I struggle to swing my leg over the seat. I hold his waist, but he has other ideas. He yanks my arms forward until my front is plastered to his back, and I press my hands to his stomach, feeling one of his cover mine.

“Hold on tight,” he yells over the roar of the engine.

I do as he says, and when he takes off, I close my eyes and rest my head against his back.

Riding doesn’t scare me, but the thought of crashing does. I have this irrational fear of ending up on life support and my father refusing to pull the plug, given his inability to let go and grieve.

Eventually, I relax and realize I’m enjoying it. I have the strangest urge to stretch my arms out wide to feel the wind rushing over me. Being on a bike like this almost feels like I’m flying.

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