Page 16 of Architecti
She frowns.“What’s—” she points at my neck.“Never mind, I’m seeing shit.”
“Seeing?”
She shakes her head.“I thought there was something on your neck, but it must have been the light.”
That’s not weird, maybe I take back my previous comments.We dress, she hauls herself out of the pit and lends a palm to pull me up.
I squint through the trees to see the dance floor thinning, the rave dying.
That eau du awkward found after a one-night stand orgasm fills the air around us.
“Well, this was great,” I start.
“Don’t be like that, let me take you home.”
She leads me through the graveyard in silence, throwing scant glances back at me.But neither of us find any words to share until we reach the parking lot and she stops at a motorbike.
Oh, hell no.
“I don’t think so,” I say, edging away from the sleek black machine.
She glances around, looking for a carriage or some other method for me to get home, I assume.
There are none.
At this point, I’ll be walking into town to catch a carriage.
“It’s late.All the carriages are gone…”
She hands me her helmet, and I hold it by the chin straps like the heinous contraption it is.
“Put it on,” she demands.
“I, umm.I don’t…”
“Demon’s sake.”She plucks the helmet from my hand and examines me.I find myself lost in her expression, the careful attention she pays to pushing my hair away from my face and adjusting the straps just so.
Her fingers caress my skin.It’s weirdly comforting, and I find myself leaning into her palm.
She catches herself and pulls away, bringing the helmet to the top of my head and sliding it on.
It’s snug and muffles my hearing.My lungs tighten so much I have to force myself to breathe slower.
“I don’t like it.It’s suffocating,” I say.
“You’ll get used to it.It’s like a hug for your head.Do you have a tie?You’ll want to put your hair up, otherwise it will be a tangled mess.”
I plait the end of my hair and tuck it down the back of my jacket.
“I’ll help you on,” she says and places her hands on my hips.Those firm, assured fingers press into me.Gods, I feel them all the way through my jeans down to my bones.
“Slide your leg over this,” she says.
I glare at her through the visor, but do as I’m told.
“Good girl.”She winks at me, so I slap her on the arm.“Where to?”
“Finis Academy.”
