Page 14 of College Boy

Chapter Nine

Emma

“Do you always ride your bike to work?”

Emma nodded in reply, steering clear of Mitch, whose gangly legs looked even ganglier atop the too-small bike he was riding. “I do,” she murmured, wincing in advance as he nearly toppled over onto the sidewalk beneath them. Again. “It’s close enough to the house for me to be there in ten to fifteen minutes and it’s a nice cool down after standing in one of those hot boxes all day.”

“I could see that,” he murmured, nearly swerving into a mailbox.

Emma winced anew and asked, “Have you ... ever ridden one before? A bicycle, I mean?”

“I ride mine all the time back at school,” Mitch insisted, voice wavering to match the awkwardness of his slowly pumping kneecaps. “But this was the only one in Reggie’s garage when he let me borrow it earlier.”

Emma glanced at it more fully, realization dawning on her with every wriggle of the handlebars or flash of the rear reflectors. “I think that’s the same one his mother gave him for his twelfth birthday,” she chuckled. “I remember because she got it weeks before and asked me to hide it in my garage until the big day.”

“It’s definitely built for a twelve-year-old,” Mitch grunted, wobbling along beside her as Emma cruised along in rarified comfort atop her own super deluxe, luxurious-by-comparison beach cruiser, the one with the padded seat, rounded handlebars, generous basket and oversized tires.

“Stick around long enough,” she teased, anticipation churning in her gut as she admired his big fingers laced around the faded handlebars of her neighbor’s tiny BMX bike, “and you’ll need to grab one of these bad boys. Ride along in comfort like the rest of us grown folk.”

“And miss the chance to bang my knees on the handlebars ten times a minute?” he teased, wriggling his narrow behind to get more comfortable on the shredded banana seat beneath him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Summer’s coming up,” she murmured almost dreamily, the half-workday and unexpected trip to the beach, to say nothing of the stringy arm candy beside her, lulling her into a special place indeed. “You could always make a return trip back to Flamingo Shores. See the sights. Hang out with old, uh ... friends?”

He risked a sideways glance at her before turning his soft green eyes back to the road. His hair had dried en route, even more feathery and sun-kissed and alluring than ever. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“What year are you, anyway?” Emma asked, trying to sound casual as she dug a little deeper into her Mystery Companion’s life. Reggie rarely came home from school, but when he did, he looked so much younger than Mitch, and it wasn’t just the few inches of height difference or the fact that he’d literally grown up next door to her, either.

“What year do you think I am?” Mitch teased.

“Come on, Mitch, don’t make me guess.”

Mitch frowned, an expression almost as adorable as his sun-kissed smile. “Okay, spoil sport, I’m a junior.”

“That explains the faux maturity,” Emma teased, earning a quiet blush from her riding companion. “But isn’t Reggie still a freshman?”

“They all are,” Mitch pointed out, leaning back slightly on his bike seat so that his feet didn’t nearly scrape clean his toenails every time the pedals swung around. “So now maybe you can see why I stick out like a sore thumb.”

“I don’t think that,” Emma snapped, a little too eagerly. “I don’t think that at all. I just think you really, really wanted to see a beach for the first time, that’s all.”

“I did,” Mitch insisted. “I really, really did.”

They rode like that for a little while, lost in their own thoughts, the pretty spring day warm and savory against their skin as Emma took him the long way home, just for a little more time together. The saltwater had dried on her skin by then, crinkly and tight and refreshing, like a day at the spa. She’d forgotten how nice that felt—damp hair, sunburned shoulders, sand between her toes and the Atlantic Ocean drying on her skin. To say nothing of having a sexy companion, wobbling on the BMX bike beside her.

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