Page 43 of Crimson Promises
“I’ll protect you, Aurora, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ben gave me a wolfish grin.
“You’ll probably go extra fast just to freak me out.”
“I make no promises. Unless you want to pay for an Uber, this is our mode of transportation to whatever dinner you’re taking me to. Plus, this is a Ducati. It’s not like other bikes.”
“What’s a Ducati?”
He scrubbed his face with his palms. “Only the Ferrari of motorcycles. Please tell me you at least know what a Ferrari is.”
“Yes, I know what a Ferrari is. Where is this supposed to go?” I showed him the boxes of apple crumble and pecan pie—Darlene’s favorite—that I picked up while waiting.
He walked to the side of the bike and lifted the seat. “Right in here.” Ben took the bag from me and handed me a helmet in exchange.
“I’m going to look like Darth Vader in this thing.” The helmet, like Ben’s, was all black and full-faced.
“You will be a cute Darth Vader, though. Come here. I’ll help you put it on.” I held my breath as he reached for my elbow to guide me off the curb. “Do you have a purse?”
I shook my head no. Everything I needed was on my phone, and since I wasn’t driving, I didn’t need an ID. Plus, I had pictures of my insurance card and driver’s license just in case, but I hoped one car accident was enough bad luck to last for the rest of the year.
“On second thought, that Uber isn’t sounding too bad of an option right now.”
“Aurora, do you trust me?”
My eyes automatically sought his out as I tipped my head back. “Yes,” I responded. The weird thing was, even though I had just met him and a part of me still thought he was dangerous, I got the feeling that he would rather break his own arm than see any harm come to me. For some absurd reason, I felt comfortable with him. He felt familiar, like someone I had known for my entire life.
“Okay, then, believe me when I say no harm will come to you on this ride. Unless you begin exploring, then I can’t make any promises.”
“Gross, Ben.” I used my forearm to shove him, though the guy didn’t even move an inch.
“It got you to stop thinking about your impending doom for a moment, didn’t it?”
“Whatever.”
“Seriously, can I put this on you?” He raised the helmet above my head, waiting silently for my permission.
I give him a tiny nod.
“It’ll feel a little suffocating at first. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once I put on my helmet, I can hear you through the Bluetooth connection.”
He pulled the helmet over my head. A moment of awkwardness passed for the foam to push through my skull, then slipped on easily. The helmet felt small and cramped with its dead, stagnant air. All I could hear was my labored breathing. I reached out and flexed my fingers around Ben’s arm. He slid open the visor and a whoosh of fresh air came in, immediately calming me.
“Remember what I said: breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. We have to get on the bike now. When we do, you need to keep this closed”—he knocked on the visor at the top of the helmet—“for your safety.”
Ben straddled the bike and extended his hand towards me as if asking for a dance. I hesitated, eyeing the way his powerful leg muscles gripped the side.A good distraction before riding this death trap.
I grasped his fingers and imitated how he got on. Dad wouldn’t be impressed. My only hope was that Vic wouldn’t tell on me.
Ben grabbed both of my hands and threaded them together around his stomach. My cheek was plastered to his back.
“Hang out tight,” was all the warning he gave me before the machine roared to life.
As we zoomed past the city lights, I felt bare, vulnerable, and free. It was unlike anything else I had ever experienced. I felt everything: the heat from the other car’s engines, the acrid smell of the exhaust through their tailpipes. The scents of the varying restaurants melded together: I could pick out french fries, samosas, and pad thai. Muffled music flowed through the closed windows. It was sensory overload. When Ben hit the throttle, the entire world sped up as if he had pressed a fast-forward button. I closed my eyes against the blur of images. The wind kissed the cool sweat of my body, caressing me as it slipped by. I wasalive.
Before I knew it, Ben slowed the bike to a stop and swung his leg to the ground. He tapped my knuckle wordlessly, signaling we’d arrived.
I pulled the helmet off my head. My legs were quaking so hard I decided to remain seated.
Ben crouched down in front of me. “So, what did you think?”
