Page 123 of Dating Goals
“I love that song!”
A motorcycle appears suddenly on our left, the rider’s face hidden behind a black helmet. Griffin swerves sharply, throwing me against the door.
“Sorry. I know you like Yaz, but it’s a bit of a mood whiplash.” He tosses his phone into my lap. “Playlist two. Quick!”
I swipe through while bracing myself against the door as Griffin takes another sharp turn.
“Playlist two?”
“Yeah, the one called Spy Business.”
Of course he has a playlist called Spy Business. I tap it just as the motorcycles pull alongside us. One rider reaches for our door handle. Griffin jerks the wheel, forcing them to fall back.
Gritty electric guitar blasts around us. The display on his phone reads “James Bond Theme” by Oakenfold. It’s all, aggressive big beat drums and surf guitar combined with thebrassy horns of the 007 theme. The quintessential soundtrack for a high-speed car chase.
Griffin’s face lights up with boyish delight. “That’s more like it!”
The motorcycles split up, one pulling ahead while the other falls back. They’re trying to box us in.
“Hold on,” Griffin warns, then slams on the brakes. The motorcycle behind us nearly crashes into our bumper but swerves at the last second.
Griffin immediately accelerates again, turning sharply onto another street.
“Where did you learn to drive like this?” I demand as he executes a perfect drift around a fountain in a small plaza.
“Mario Kart,” he answers without missing a beat.
Griffin jerks the wheel left, sending us down a narrow alley barely wide enough for the car. The stone walls scrape against the side mirrors, making me wince.
“Sorry, baby,” Griffin whispers, and I’m momentarily confused until I realize he’s talking to the car.
We emerge onto a wider street, but our reprieve is short-lived. Both motorcycles appear again, closing in from different directions.
“We can’t outrun them,” I say, scanning the streets for police, or help, or anything.
“We don’t need to outrun them,” Griffin replies cryptically. “We just need to outsmart them.”
He makes a sudden turn onto a pedestrian-only shopping street, the car bouncing over the decorative cobblestones. Thankfully, it’s empty at this hour.
“So,” Griffin ventures a sidelong glance at me with a lopsided smile. “Thomas, huh? Still think he’s a better date than me?”
“Eyes on the road!” I shout as he narrowly misses sideswiping a parked car.
“I couldn’t decide if showing up at your date was romantic or creepy.”
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, the tension of the chase dissolving into hysterical giggles.
“Definitely creepy,” I manage between gasps of laughter. “But I’ll allow it.”
Griffin’s eyes meet mine for a split second, and something electric passes between us before he returns his attention to the road. My traitorous heart does a dangerous little flip.
A crash from behind breaks the moment. One of the motorcycles has rammed our bumper.
“Oh no, you did not just do that,” Griffin shouts over the music, accelerating down the street.
The Bugatti responds like it was built for this very moment, hugging the road as we zoom past the historic buildings of Bern’s Old Town.
“Take a right here!” I yell, spotting a narrow street I recognize. “It leads to the river!”
