Page 74 of Killer Confections
My mouth moves like a fish out of water until a slow, deliberate smile spreads on his masked features, causing his eyes to crinkle. He knows exactly what he’s doing and my desire turns to indignation. I point a finger at him, my eyes narrowing. “We aren’t done talking about…”
“About what?” He cocks his head to the side. “You have no idea what I’m up to.”
I grumble, because he’s right. I honestly don’t know what he’s up to during the day when he’s away. He won’t tell me his job or where he goes. For all I know, he’s a spy or something and is planning to use me as a cover story.
It’s growing really old.
I huff as the sleek black bike catches my eye. It really is beautiful. I always took Atlas for a motorcycle guy, but seeing just how well he fits with the vehicle, it has curiosity stirring inside of me.
I tilt my head towards it. “Do you plan to leave that out here all night?”
He looks back at the bike before leaning against it and pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He only stops when our eyes connect as he pulls one of the long sticks of death out of the red and white packaging. He crams it back in before shoving it into his pocket with a sigh. “That was the plan. It’s only a few blocks away from your apartment.”
I shrug, running a hand over the tank before peering up at him through my lashes with the best innocent look I can muster. “Can I drive it?”
His brows jump. “Do you know how?”
I shake my head, leaning closer to him as I give him a sweet smile. “Not a clue. I figured you could show me…”
I know he’s going to say no. Hell, it’s a long shot, and I know I’m asking for a lot. But when he chuckles before pushing off and offering a hand to help me on, I’m stunned. A giggle leaves me as I toss a leg over and he helps me balance myself before sliding on behind me.
“I’m gonna have to get you a helmet if you plan to backpack, baby,” he mumbles as he kicks the stand in and places his hands over mine on the handlebars.
“Backpack?” I ask, shimmying in the seat.
Damn, this feels powerful.
He hums in my ear, pressing forward until we’re flush against each other. “It’s a term for a passenger rider. You would normally sit behind me and hold on, but for the sake of teaching, I would prefer you in the front.”
Oh, backpack sounds more my style. I don’t think I could hold a bike up if I tried. It’s exhilarating getting to learn, but this was mostly just inquisitiveness.
“I definitely want to be your backpack,” I smile over my shoulder.
“We’ll go look at helmets over the weekend,” he returns before showing me the basics. As the engine revs to life and my whole body shakes with the powerful vibration, Atlas reassures me I’m doing great as he helps me shift into first gear. “Eyes on the road. If something goes wrong, push back against me and I’ll stop us.”
I nod as we start to move and I can’t keep my face-splitting grin contained. Atlas’s hands are only helping me go through the motions, but once we turn onto the main road, I realize he isn’t gripping me as if he’s controlling everything. He’s leaving me room to do things myself.
“I’m doing it!” I celebrate as we roll towards my apartment.
He chuckles, the sound deep and agreeing. “You are. Good job.”
He helps me pull into the parking garage before his feet kick out and he walks us into the spot next to my car. I’m practically thrumming with elation as Atlas helps me slide to my feet and cuts the bike.
“You did good,” he praises before pressing a kiss to my cheek and slinging an arm over my shoulders. He steers us in the direction of the resident entrance.
“Good enough for my own bike soon?” I ask, peeking up at him hopefully. He gives me a testing look and I know I’m pushing my luck.
He opens the door for me, letting me pass into the hallway. “Be glad I’m letting you backpack, baby. It’s taking a lot in me to even let you go that far. Bikes are dangerous and the last thing I want is to be the reason you get hurt…”
I roll my eyes. Who knew having a stalker would result in having an overprotective, stubborn partner who doesn’t let you do anything reckless?
The hallway’s dim lights greet us as we take the passage towards the main lobby. As we walk, I spare a glance at Atlas and nearly stop. His eyes look heavy, and the purple smudges under them are far more pronounced than they usually are. Even his shoulders are curling inward, giving him the look of being exhausted beyond belief. He looks worn down…
“What in the world have you been up to?” I ask quietly as I reach up and thumb the bruised area of skin below his eye.
He relaxes against my hand, hitting the elevator button as we come to stand in front of the metal doors. His eyes close and I worry we won’t have much longer before he’s asleep while standing.
“Too much and not enough,” he mutters before ushering me inside of the elevator and sending us to my floor.
