Page 120 of That Last Secret

“He had an emergency vet visit for his dog.”

She nods and goes to grab her things for the gym. “Grab a sweatshirt,” I call out.

“It’s like 75 degrees out,” she says, coming back to the living room.

“We’re taking the bike.”

Her eyes widen in fear. “Logan. I can’t get on that thing again. It scared the hell out of me the last time I was on the back of it.”

I smirk. “You trust me, Em?”

Her features soften as she reaches into her small closet behind her door and pulls out a sweatshirt.

Not just any sweatshirt… mine.

“I trust you,” she confirms.

I take her hand in mine and don’t let go as we walk down the stairwell to the garage where I park my bike.

I needed this today.

I needed her.

I had another meeting with the chief earlier. He asked if I’d decided because a month has passed since he first gave me the offer.

The old me would have given him an answer that day, but now, I can’t make decisions about my future without seeing if what I have with Emiline is real.

It feels real.

I just need to make sure she feels the same.

But what if I say no to the opportunity I’ve worked so hard for, only for Emiline to decide to end things because the pressure from her brothers is too much? What if she graduates and wants to date other people?

I should focus on the present, but I’m the type of guy who worries about the future. I can’t make a plan right now without knowing for sure.

Once we reach my bike, I hand her the helmet she wore the first day I picked her up. She puts it on effortlessly now as if she’s practiced since that night.

Things are different this time because she’s not coming down from a panic attack. She’s stronger than she’s ever been, if that’s at all possible. She’s always been strong. She just needed someone to tell her.

I remain silent as I throw my leg over the bike, taking my helmet from the handlebars and sliding it over my head.

I lift the visor and turn to face Emiline. I pat the small seat behind me, urging her to climb on.

Placing both hands on my shoulders to balance herself, she hikes a leg over the bike and situates herself behind me before she grabs my waist.

“Closer,” I say over my shoulder. “I need you closer.”

She scoots until she’s flush with my back. I will myself to keep my breaths even and steady. Nerves spike inside of me because even though she trusts me and I asked her to, I don’t trust people on the surrounding roads.

I turn the key in the ignition, and the bike rumbles under us. Loud enough that it echoes through the parking garage.

My hand finds Emiline’s on my waist and I bring it to rest flat against my stomach. She does the same with her other hand without me even telling her.

Such a good girl.

“Ready?” I ask, putting on my riding gloves.

“I think so.”

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