He's looking at me with something akin to affection. His eyes drop down to my lips, the urge to kiss me obvious in his expression. Instead, he presses a kiss to my bare shoulder.
"Sweet like candy," he says quietly.
But then he's focusing his attention back on the bike, and mine automatically follows. I'm turning forward when he says, "Okay, now we're going to let the clutch out and practice braking before anything else. Slowly,startto let the clutch out, just until the bike starts moving. Then I want you to hit the brake.”
Carefully, tentatively, I do as he says. I relax my grip on the clutch, and as soon as the bike starts to move, I step on the brake and squeeze the brake lever at the same time.
“Good,” Kane praises. “As long as we know how to brake, we’re good. Now let’s put it into gear, and start to let the clutch out again, at the same time that we gently turn the throttle. You have to do it slowly, in parallel, so that you don't stall the bike or launch it into anything. Have you ever driven a stick shift car?"
I don't admit that I've barely drivenanycar. That I had a driver living in New York and only drove because I enjoyed long road trips when I needed to clear my head.
"The goal is to turn the throttle just as much as you're letting go of the clutch—the shifts need to be identical. So as yougentlylet the clutch out, you also gently turn the throttle. Got it?"
In theory, yes. I nod.
"Good girl. Let's see it." And then he's moving his hands from my hips to the outside of the handlebars, clearly readying himself to jump in if he needs to.
I swallow nervously and do as he instructed.
I slowly let the clutch out, and I'm just starting to turn the throttle when…
The bike stalls out.
"It's okay, stalling is practically a rite of passage," Kane soothes. "Try it again."
I set my jaw and start the bike again. Then I let out the clutch again, this time turning the throttle at the same time.
Except this time, I'm too ambitious with the throttle, and suddenly there's a loud revving sound as the bike shoots forward.
I let out a loud yelp as the momentum snaps me back into Kane's chest. I somehow manage to keep my hands on the handlebars, but I'm not entirely sure I would've been able to do something about it if Kane hadn't quickly put his hands over mine and taken over. In an instant, we're back to being stopped, the engine rumbling quietly.
"Oh my God," I breathe. "That was terrifying."
Kane's chuckle soothes my nerves. "Another rite of passage," he laughs. "Now you're ready to do it the right way."
"Now I'm kind of nervous," I whisper.
He presses a kiss to my shoulder again, once, twice.
"You're doing great," he reassures me. "One more try."
Taking a deep breath, I ready myself to try again. I let out the clutch, turn the throttle, and…
The bike starts to slowly roll forward.
"Oh my God!" I shriek. "I'm actually doing it!"
Kane's laugh rolls through me.
God, I love the feel of him laughing.
"Speed it up a little.Slowly."
Gently, with 100% of my focus on the throttle, I drive us a little faster.
"Perfect. Let's do a few starts and stops like that, and then we’ll loop around the lot."
And as I do a lap, and then another, around the parking lot, wind in my face and Kane's warmth pressed against my back, I know this is truly my paradise.Thisis what peace feels like.