Page 25 of Under My Skin
I quickly hand her the helmet, relieved my face shield is already down because there’s a good chance I look fucking guilty.
Simon’s little sister.
Lucy steps toward the bike, and I reach for her face to help her fasten the helmet snug. She tenses at first, but her shoulders loosen once she realizes what I’m doing.
Simon’s little sister.
She looks down at the bike, like she isn’t sure how to get on, so I point to the footpeg. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she hoists herself up and over the bike. Her body lands softly on the seat behind me, the inside of her thighs hugging the back of mine.
Simon’s little sister.
Her fists clench around my clothes, somehow grabbing both my shirt and my jacket in each hand.
She’s terrified.
The bike is set and ready to go, so I start it up and the engine roars beneath us. Lucy loosens the death grip on my jacket just long enough to wrap her arms around my waist, squeezing the air out of me like I’m her only lifeline. Gently resting my hand on her arms around me, I rub my thumb back and forth over her sleeve to try to reassure her.
Simon’s little sister.
The bike starts to roll, and I might as well be taking a damn boa constrictor for a ride. I pull the break, and we stop only a few feet from where we started. I look over my shoulder, and raise my flat palm slowly, gesturing for her to inhale.
She just stares at me.
I can feel her shallow breaths against my back, so I repeat the gesture. Slowly lifting my flattened palm and inhaling a deep breath as I do it. She sits back enough for me to see her shoulders gently lift as she breathes. I give her a nod of encouragement before turning my hand downward and signaling for her to exhale.
She does, and I nod again. Her body already feels less rigid against mine. I wait for her to take another steady inhale, and as soon as I see it, I pat her upper thigh behind me and face forward.
Simon’s little sister.
Letting off the brake, the bike slowly rolls forward again. Lucy’s grip is still tight. Her arms are wrapped around me, and her fists are clenched around the front of my shirt, probably stretching out the fabric. But I can at least feel her breathing.
I pull out of the parking lot, following the winding mountain roads to her parents’ home. The familiar roads take on new light with the simple fact that I have Lucy Blake on the back of my bike.
For someone so deathly afraid of motorcycles, she’s a decent passenger. She doesn’t lean too much, doesn’t shift in her seat for no reason—probably because she’s frozen in fear—and I don’thave to worry about her not holding on tight enough through turns.
I like the feeling of her arms around me, too.
What the hell is going on? I can’t keep having intrusive thoughts about my best friend’s sister. There’s an unspoken code there, and I’ve known Simon way too long to fuck around with anyone he cares about.
Offering her a ride felt like the natural thing to do. I’m heading to the shop, and the shop is close to her parents’ house. It made sense for me to drop her off. I never thought her body pressed against mine would have my heart pounding in my chest.
We turn, and she lifts her head long enough to turn it the other way before resting it against my back again—probably to take in the scenery on the opposite side. I guess it’s good she doesn’t have her eyes squeezed shut in terror. That’s a step in the right direction.
Too soon, her head picks up again.
“It’s so pretty!” she yells over my shoulder.
She’s right. The river next to us flows over rocks and small boulders. It’s the same river she’s driven past countless times, but it’s different from a bike. I can smell the water before I see it, and the sound of the rippling waves carving a path between the stones calms something inside me. There’s an overlook up ahead where cars pull over to take in the view. I’ve done it a few times, but it’s mostly tourists who feel the need to stop and take a picture. If anyone else is there when I pass, I usually keep driving. But there have been a few occasions, early in the morning or just before dusk, when the small, fenced area was completely empty. Those are the times I pull over.
As we round the bend, I see the sign for the overlook. Just beyond it, a family gets in their car, about to pull away. It’s the only car there, and the sudden urge I have to pull over on the side of the road with Lucy catches me off guard. She’d probably love it. She’d probably peer over the edge of the fence, pushing up on thetips of her toes to get a better look. Her blonde ponytail would fall over the front of her shoulder as she’d peer down below, and her face would light up.
Shaking the thought from my mind, I speed past the overlook.
Her arms tighten around me again, and I curse under my breath. I was so desperate to clear my head, I forgot about her being scared. Resting one hand over both her arms hooked across my stomach, I do my best to reassure her in the limited ways I can. It works. She relaxes her grip and takes another deep breath against my back.
My touch did that. It was innocent, but the satisfaction that comes with knowing I eased something she was feeling has guilt weighing in my stomach. Ignoring the urge to brush my thumb over her arm, I let go and wrap my fingers around the handlebar where they belong.
Simon’s little sister.
