Page 71 of All's Fair in Love and Blackmail

What a fascinating color.

“There won’t be anything romantic about it,” she goes on. “But we’ve still got a couple hours of light, and I’ve been feeling a bit restless. So…” She shrugs, looking suddenly self-conscious. “I thought I might ride up to see the aspens in the park. I checked the color reports, and they’re starting to change a bit.”

“Feeling restless, huh?” I say. I fold my arms across my chest and grin at her. “Sure you don’t need to go for another run? Do a quick ten miles or something?”

“I know you’re joking,” she says, “but I did run three miles earlier.”

“Of course you did,” I say, laughing. “So you ran, but you’re still restless? What’s that about?” It’s the question I’m really trying to ask.

“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. Her eyes dart away from mine, and her arm around the helmet tightens. “Just…stuff.”

“Stuff?” I say, and I take one ambling step nearer to her. “Gonna be more specific?”

“No,” she retorts, looking up at me. “You have to earn the answers to any questions you ask. Didn’t you know?”

“Mmm,” I hum as I move closer. “I hadn’t heard, no.”

She nods, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Well, it’s a new rule that was just instituted. If you want answers, you have to earn them.” She raises one eyebrow at me, her gaze full of challenge. “Think you’re up for it?”

“Depends,” I say, the corners of my lips curling. “What did you have in mind?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Her eyes drop, instead, to my lips.

And something thuds in my chest then, a swoop of heat in my stomach—more than the flash of imagination I had before, the image of us kissing in the back of my car. This is desire, pure and simple, the actual urge to close the space between us andkissher.

She would taste like sarcasm and laughter and sunshine.

My hands clench into fists, a brief spasm as I rein myself in, and then slowly, deliberately, I take one step backward. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Then I give her an easy smile and a shrug.

“Your call, Sunshine Darling. If you want to go up into the park, let’s do it.” I nod at the helmet still under her arm. “Got another one of those?”

“I do,” she says, her voice hesitant. “If you’re really okay with it?”

“A ride through a national park with my arms around a beautiful woman?” I say with a wink. “I’m more than okay with it.”

She rolls her eyes again, but some of the tension leaks out of her shoulders, and her lips quirk. “And…” She clears her throat, her gaze darting to mine and then away again. “You trust me to drive?” She pauses and then hurries on, “I understand if not, obviously?—”

But I laugh at this. “Of course I trust you. Come on.” I drift over to Betsy and give her a pat. “We’re losing daylight.”

INDIA

Ridinga motorcycle is like nothing else. It’s speed and wind and freedom andpossibility—because if I have the ability to fly down the road like this, then surely I can do anything. Maybe it speaks to some ancient part of my humanity, the part that values being able to escape from predators. But something about being able to move so fast makes me feel at ease.

Like no matter how bad life gets, if all else fails, I can still run away.

It’s stupid, maybe. Because my lifeisn’tbad, and I have no plans to run anywhere. But those are the feelings that engulf me when I’m riding. It’s a temporary reprieve from my mind, the chance to justexist.

I took Betsy on not one, not two, butthreetest drives earlier. The first probably couldn’t even be called a drive; really it was just me sitting in the seat, feeling the engine rumble, reminding myself of how the bike felt beneath me. But I thought baby steps would probably be helpful, and they were. I was a little wobbly getting out of the driveway the first time I actually started driving her, but that lasted maybe thirty seconds.

People say riding a bike is a skill you never lose. I’m lucky—I wasn’t away long enough to lose my ability to ride Betsy, either. And it’s euphoric, reuniting with her again. It’s sunshine and fresh air and everything I love. If I hadn’t gotten a good cry in the other day, I might even have teared up when I got back in the saddle.

Riding with someone else, however? That’s not quite the same.

The only person who ever rides with me is Aurora. Juliet is too scared, and honestly, I don’t want her screaming her head off in my ear the whole time anyway. Stella refused to ever ride with me because she thinks motorcycles are death traps.

I’ve never ridden with a guy before, and definitely not one like Felix.

Felix is tall and broad and he smells good, like eucalyptus, and I failed to take these things into account before I asked him to come on a ride with me.

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