Page 32 of The Friend Situation

“I don’t plan on it,” she replies.

I grin, feeling an overwhelming joy that she can’t see. “This is the best way to explore the city, especially at night when there isn’t much traffic. Ready?”

Her breasts press against my back as she hugs me tight. “I think so.”

I give the engine some gas, and then we take off. The garage door lifts, and we escape out the back entrance onto a quiet side street.

“What’s the Batman and Catwoman lore?” she asks as I focus on the road ahead.

Our helmets are connected with microphones, and I can hear her clearly.

I smile. “They’re two damaged individuals, trying to survive. She always brings Bruce back to reality, making him feel centered and present.”

“Oh. And what does Batman do for her?”

“He inspires her to be a better version of herself. His goodness motivates her. Their relationship isn’t stable because they’re so different, yet so alike. The push-and-pull is intense. But don’t be fooled. Catwoman is the anti-hero.”

“Of course she is,” Carlee responds with a chuckle.

“At its core, it’s a love story about two flawed people with a very deep connection who have an even deeper understanding of the other. But they’realwayschasing their love, and they’re never able to settle down.”

“Catwoman is obsessed with the chase too then?” she asks, squeezing me a little tighter.

I’m so freaking glad she can’t hear my heart racing.

“I guess you could say they both are,” I explain.

We ride in silence. The roar of the engine bounces off the tall buildings as we zoom down the empty streets.

“How long have you been riding?” she asks.

“You don’t know? That’s shocking.”

“I don’t knoweverythingabout you,” she admits.

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” she whispers, sending emotions flooding through me.

“And what if you don’t like what you learn?” I ask.

“What if I love it?” she counters.

I hold on to her thigh as we cruise beneath the city lights.

“This is amazing,” she says. “It’s freeing.”

“Being with you always is.”

Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at Sluggers, and I pull close to the front entrance.

“Don’t take your helmet off until you’re inside,” I instruct.

“Do you think we were followed?” She hasn’t let go of me yet.

“No. But we can never be too safe. I’ll enter from the back and meet you inside.”

Carlee slides off the bike.

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