Page 32 of Things I Read About
“Fit okay?”
“Uh huh,” I murmur.
He taps the top before instructing me. “Lean back for me.” I do, and he carefully climbs on in front of me. He twists before putting his helmet on. His gaze is intense. “Hold tight around me. Tap me if your ankle hurts or if you get scared.”
I nod, smiling. “I won’t get scared.” I’m already well beyond scared.And ecstatic. I cannot believe this is real. I can’t believehe’sreal.
He puts on his helmet, turns, and starts the engine.
I grab onto him as if my life depends on it.
He moves out into traffic.
I squeeze, feeling so exposed. I hate it. The cars around us are right there. It’s bright, and loud, and cold.
After a few minutes, I expect the vibration of the engine to overtake all of my other senses, but it doesn’t. All my senses are maxed out, nerves fried.
I hate this.
No, this is fine.
I’m fine.
I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on the hum of the wind and the feel of Nate plastered to my front. I lean my head onto his huge back and at one point peek an eye open.
Through the slit I see the scenery go by, people, cars, snow. Mostly snow, now.
Nate pulls off the main highway. It is excessively dark out here.
My pulse quickens.
He really could kill me. No one would hear me scream out here, it’s just trees in every direction. If he’s prior military, he can probably make it look like an accident.
I really am an idiot. I want to reach for my phone but it’s so dark I’m afraid to loosen my grip.
We wind, and weave, and turn for a while. I hold on and squeeze, my arms and my eyes. If he is kidnapping me, I’m going to have to figure out how to save myself once we stop.
Which is now.
Oh God, please don’t let Nate be a psycho killer.
“Sally? You were supposed to tap me.”
“What?” I open my eyes. I’m still gripping him for dear life, but he’s taken his helmet off.
“You’re shaking.”
“I am?”
“Yes. But we’re here. Look.” He points to the other side of the bike.
I pull back from him to turn my head.
“Wow.” I tug off my helmet so I can see. The whole resort is lit up and on display across the valley from us.
He puts a hand over mine, still clasped around him. “Are you okay?”
I breathe in, then tell the truth. “It was getting really dark, and there were no other cars, and, I mean, I don’t really know you, you know? And with your military training you could probably make it look like an accident.”
