I turn to Brea, who looks like a kid in a candy store. “Excited?”
“No,” she answers flatly, trying as hard as she can to hide it.
“Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle or do you just like reading about the men who ride them?”
“My stepdad has one, but the only person who got to touch it was him.”
"You don’t know what you’re missing, firefly. There’s nothing like the wind in your hair and the road stretching out before you. It’s freedom."
Brea’s brows furrow as she considers my words, and I grab her hand, leading her over to the wall of helmets. “But let’s get you geared up. Safety first, right?”
She rolls her eyes again, but I can see a glimmer of excitement in her expression. Her fingers skim over the helmets as she picks out a sleek matte black one with a faint silver trim.
“This one matches your vibe.”
“Are you saying I’m sleek or just dark and dangerous?” I raise an eyebrow, unable to resist the chance to flirt.
“Maybe both,” she replies, slipping the helmet on and looking at me through the visor. “Though it might also mean you’ll throw me off and leave me stranded in some backwater town.”
I chuckle again, picturing her on the motorcycle with me—curly hair whipping in the wind, green eyes shining with exhilaration. “I promise I’ll keep you safe,” I say more seriously. “You’re going to love this.”
The clerk finishes up my paperwork and hands me the keys. “It’s out front. Fully gassed up. Have a nice ride.” I glance back at Brea, whose face is a mix of nerves and curiosity, and I can feel my heart racing. She might not want to admit it, but I know deep down she’s intrigued by this.
“Ready for an adventure?” I ask.
Her eyes widen behind the visor. “Adventure,” she repeats, letting the word roll off her tongue as if tasting it. “That sounds an awful lot like trouble.”
“Only the good kind,” I assure her, slipping the keys into my pocket and motioning for her to follow me outside. The sun is brighter now, illuminating the sleek motorcycle waiting patiently in the parking lot next to the truck.
Brea’s gaze lands on it, her mouth parting slightly in awe. “You really have one of these?”
“Two actually, but one of them is a rebuild project.”
I mount the motorcycle smoothly, giving Brea a moment to admire it from a distance. She glances around as if ensuring we’re not being watched before stepping closer, her fingersbrushing against the cool metal. I can’t help but notice how she treats it as if it’s a living thing.
“Okay,” I call out. “Hop on.”
Brea’s brow arches warily. “You really expect me to just jump on without knowing what I’m doing?”
“That’s fair. Here,” I say, reaching out my hand towards her. “Use me to steady yourself. Slide your leg over first.”
Brea hesitates, but she eventually takes my hand, the warmth of her skin sending an unexpected jolt through me. She swings her leg over the seat, her movements tentative yet graceful as she settles behind me. I can feel her body against my back, and my heart races at the realization of how close we are. “There are two-foot pegs down by my legs. That’s where your feet go. Be careful of the exhaust pipes on the side. The longer we ride, the hotter they’ll get. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
“What do I hold on to?”
“To me, firefly.” I reach back, pulling her arms around my waist, fingers gripping firmly, and I can’t help but think about how right this feels.
“Do I have to?” The playful spark in her voice making me grin.
“If you want to survive the ride, yeah,” I reply with mock seriousness. “No letting go.”
With a deep breath, I kick the engine to life. The throaty roar of the motorcycle drowns out everything else, buzzing between us like a shared secret. Brea’s grip tightens instinctively as we roll out of the parking lot and onto the open road.
The thrill of moving forward pushes away any lingering tension. I lean into the curves of the highway, feeling powerful as we slice through the wind together. Every twist and turn becomes an unspoken dance with Brea behind me. Her body syncing seamlessly with mine in a rhythm that feels electric.
“This is… actually amazing!” Brea shouts over the wind, her voice laced with equal parts excitement and disbelief.
“I knew you’d love it,” I laugh, glancing over my shoulder just long enough to catch a glimpse of her bright smile. “Hold on tight.”