Page 45 of I Knew You Were Trouble

We reach the potholes that cover the parking lot exit, and he weaves through them as much as he can, using his foot to balance us.

“You ready for the road?”

No. “Um… okay.”

“Remember your safe word?”

“I got it.”

He gives my knee a reassuring pat before he revs the engine. The vibrations rock through me again, exciting and scaring me in equal measure.

I almost want to tell him to keep his hands on the “wheel,” but the knee pats are helping way more than I thought they would.

“Here we go!” His voice is excited and terrified, too, and I have no time to analyze what’s scaring him before he pulls us onto the road, and the bike speeds to thirty, thirty-five, forty miles per hour.

“Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh…” I chatter nonsensically behind him. His shoulders move, but I can’t hear his obvious laughter over the wind and the engine.

The world passes by in a blur, my eyes watering despite how much I’m hiding in Pete’s coat. Christmas street lights blend together in beautiful, watery rainbows. I hope it’s imprinted in my memories so I can replicate it in paint.

Another giggle floats up my throat, and with it pops out a small bundle of nerves that gets crushed on the asphalt below us. The cold bites at my face and my knuckles, but I’m so digging the sting. This is better than the paintballs, better than eradicating that spider, better than wearing clothes that show off a little more skin.

The bike slows, and I peek up over Pete’s shoulder to a red light. He eases us to a stop, and I feel his body relax against mine. A shiver goes up my spine.

“You doing all right?” He twists around, and the concern in his light brown irises melts my heart into a bowl of chili on this cold night.

“Yeah,” I say with a breathy laugh.

The corner of his mouth perks up. “Mind if we head to Big Bear Park?”

I shake my head, my grin widening. The park is decked out this time of year—lots of lights and a hot cocoa stand and carolers. It’s Saturday, too, so it’ll still be bustling this late.

The light turns green, and I tighten my hold almost on instinct. I can’t believe I didn’t feel safe with these things; that is the big reason why it’s a violet level. So many bad things can happen, and my imagination doesn’t help.

Motorcycles equaled danger, but holding onto Pete and letting him care for my well-being has never felt safer.

The park is about twenty miles from Troublemakers, and I start calculating the time it’ll take to go back, and then drive home.

I’ll be out past my bedtime. Go me! Another bad girl thing I’ve done today.

My hands are numb by the time Pete pulls us into the park. As I predicted, the place is a buzz. It looks like it’s mostly people on dates or hanging out in groups. I recognize a few people from art school, including Tristan. I want to wave, but I don’t dare move my hands from Pete’s waist until we come to a complete stop.

“I’m gonna find parking ‘round the other side,” he calls to me.

“Okay!”

He takes us to the back entrance to the park—a much quieter place, but that’s mostly because there aren’t as many lights. He stops the bike near one of the only trees with no decorations.

The engine cuts off, but my body is still on vibrate. Another giggle erupts from my body, like I can’t control it.

“Was it as bad as you thought?” Pete asks as I slide from the bike. My legs are still shaking, and he reaches out to steady me. I gladly take him up on the offer.

“Do I have to admit you were right?”

He laughs. “Nah. I’ll let this one slide.”

“How kind of you.”

My body is a just-opened bottle of champagne. My legs wobble as we make our way to the hot cocoa stand, and more and more giggles burst from me in uncontained bubbles. Pete keeps giving me the side-eye, amusement flickering in his expression. He must be getting a kick out of me, but he’s not teasing me. Yet, anyway.

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