Page 6 of Egg Me On

"I won’t die." He turned to face me as if the problem was solved, his usual megawatt smile returning. "Sorry about that, Cash. Thank you so much for picking me up! Let me just grab my jacket."

He ducked past his sister and darted back inside, leaving me alone with the human embodiment of helicopter parenting. Mira gave me a once-over that felt like a TSA pat-down.

"So you're a mechanic?" she asked, as if confirming my cover story. “But you’re not his friend. Why pick him up?

I shrugged, not really in the mood to explain myself. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever been in the mood to explain myself.

“Have you ever crashed a motorcycle?”

“Not recently.”

She was not a fan of that answer at all, but Aiden chose that moment to reappear wearing a denim jacket that looked about as effective as tissue paper for motorcycle riding. He had a small leather messenger bag slung across his body and was nervously fidgeting with the strap.

"Ready!" he announced, with forced cheerfulness.

“Bag,” I said, holding out a hand, and he handed it to me, eying me nervously.

I opened one of the Harley's saddlebags and shoved his bag in, then handed him the helmet. It was matte black, no frills, just something I kept around in case I wanted to impress a Tinder hookup. I tossed it to him, and he caught it with surprising deftness.

"Put that on." I waited as he fumbled with the straps. "Tighter." I demonstrated, grabbing his chin and cinching the strap down. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it would have to do for now.

"I've never been on a motorcycle before," he admitted.

"No shit."

Mira stepped forward, car keys in hand. "Are you sure about this? What if—"

"Mira. Go. You’re already late for class. I'll text you when I get there."

Aiden's tone left no room for argument. She finally retreated, climbing into a Jeep that was only in slightly better shape than Aiden’s car.

I swung my leg over the Harley and settled into the seat, kickstand up. "Get on."

Aiden approached like he was facing a wild animal. "Just... climb up?"

"Yep." I revved the engine once, partly to hurry him along and partly because I knew it would annoy the nagging sister, who was eying us as she loaded up her own car.

Mira stopped her Jeep before pulling past us, frowning until Aiden waved her on. Once she was gone, he circled the bike twice, as if trying to figure out where he was supposed to sit. Then he reached for the seat, gingerly placing a hand on a few inches away from my ass, then awkwardly tried to mount the bike without touching me at all. It was like watching a baby giraffe attempt ballet. One leg swung over, then he wobbled, hands hovering an inch from my shoulders as if touching me might electrocute him.

His laugh came out as a nervous hiccup. Finally, he managed to perch on the very edge of the passenger seat, his body rigid.

"Hold on," I told him.

"Where, um, do I...?"

I exhaled sharply. "Your choice"

He placed his hands lightly on my shoulders, fingers barely making contact. This was going to be a disaster.

"You good?"

"Yeah, I think—"

I twisted the throttle and the Harley lurched forward. Aiden let out a startled yelp, his pretense of maintaining distance instantly forgotten as his entire body slammed against my back, arms wrapping around my waist in a death grip. His chest pressed firmly against me, thighs suddenly bracketing mine.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" he gasped into my ear. "A little warning next time?"

I almost smiled. On the inside.

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