Page 16 of Kairo

He nodded. “Yeah, this shit kind of fire.”

I sucked my teeth. “Kind of is an understatement,” I said, walking toward him. “You know this shit is sick as fuck.”

He chuckled. My honeypot leaked. Kairo’s laugh was rare. It wasn’t over the top, but it was enough to bring a smile to my face.

“All these your pops?” he asked.

“Stop insulting me, Kairo.”

He looked at me. “One of these belong to you?”

“One?”

I grabbed his hand, not missing the electric shock that shot through my body. I played it off by dragging him in the direction of my bikes. When we made it to the very back of the warehouse, we stood in front of a row of eight beautiful custom-made bikes that ranged from cruisers and touring to sport. They were either white, pink, black, or blue. Every bike hadJunebugpainted on it.

“This you?” he asked, pointing at the bikes with his thumb.

I nodded like a proud mama. “All me.”

I proudly smiled at my bikes. I had ridden all of them multiple times. The mood I was in determined which bike I rode. I looked at him to see if he was impressed, but he still had a straight look on his face.

“Not impressed?” I asked, slightly offended.

“Nah, I am.”

I folded my arms across my chest and rolled my eyes. “I can’t tell.”

For the first time since showing him my bikes, he looked at me. “What you want me to do? Jump and down? Cut a cartwheel?”

The feeling of being offended made it’s way throughout my body. My bikes were my babies, and each one meant something to me. For Kairo to be standing here unimpressed bothered me. It wasn’t my thing to show people my bikes, which were my outlet from this crazy evil world.

“Fuck it. Let’s go.”

I felt embarrassed that I thought this could be a great way to break the ice between us. I spun on my heels, heading for the door, but I felt Kairo’s hand in mine. Chills ran from my head down to my toes. His rough and comforting touch made me shudder. Kairo’s hands were warm and strong. The grip he had on my hand was just enough for me to swoon. I didn’t bother toturn around because he would’ve seen just what his touch did to me.

“Which one is your favorite?” he asked.

In any other situation, I would’ve left him where he stood, but there was something about him that I still hadn’t figured out that made me spin around to face him. As soon as I faced him, he made sure his eyes were locked with mine. The coldness in his eyes had softened and it looked as if he was interested.

“Um… this one.”

I pointed at the pearl white 2011 Harley Road King. It was a custom color, and when it made its way into the sun, there were smalls specs of glitter on it. The bars were chrome and the rims were also. There was a big wheel at the front with crystals around the center of the tire.

“A street glider?” Kairo asked. “I thought you would’ve picked one of the sport ones.”

I laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. I love to go fast, but this one was my mother’s. She hated fast bikes. She wanted something that stood out but was safe enough for her to ride. It was baby blue, but after she died, I got it painted white.”

“White was her favorite color?”

I shook my head. “Nah, baby blue was. I painted it white because it symbolized everything I saw in my mother. She was pure, peaceful, honest, and perfect. Any time I feel stressed or worked up, I come ride. It feels like my mother is with me.”

I felt myself getting choked up, which was why I stopped speaking. The goal of showing Kairo the bikes was to prove my point, not to make the moment sentimental.

“Take me on a ride.”

My head shot up at him. “Huh?”

“You heard me. Let me see what you can do.”

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