Page 10 of All Hallows' Maze
“I’m out, Vic! With Dakota, I’ll text you if something comes up.”
“K,” he grunted, completely involved with his video games. The three of us spent most of our childhood together since Dakota had moved in next door one summer. Not only was he my best friend, but he was Vic’s, too. Though, my claim to his friendship came first and I rubbed that in every chance I could.
Opening the front door, I stepped onto the porch and let it slam behind me. I stopped short of the steps when I saw him—on his fucking motorcycle. Cataloging myself, I realized the problem with my assumptions. My costume posed a big safety issue and a slight hindrance since the ears would have to come off.Oh no.I figured with winter approaching, he would’ve stored his bike already.
Dakota dismounted and set the kickstand before taking his helmet off. My eyes widened. His beautiful dark brown hair had been bleached earlier this month and he refused to tell me why, but now I knew. His fucking hair was purple. The exact shade I normally dyed mine, only by this time of the month it faded to a pink shade.
He looked me up and down, taking in the boots, fishnets, skirt, and skimpy top with great scrutiny. When he got to the bunny ears, his smirk widened to a devilish grin.
Maybe I’m not as brave as I thought.
“I didn’t think you’d ride tonight,” I said, clearing my throat and looking anywhere but at him.
“It’s seventy out tonight, last opportunity before I put her away.” He tapped the gas tank with his hand. His bike was black but had purple details. Walking up the path, I didn’t miss the second once-over he did. He took my hand in his and twirled me around, laughing. “Bunny is…a bunny tonight, I see.” My face reddened.
“Maybe I should go change.”
“No need,” he said, pulling me down the walkway. I noticed then he had a pair of sweatpants laid over the handlebar for me. He grabbed them and tossed the folded garment at my chest. Fumbling to catch them, he laughed at me. “Call it hunch, though I didn’t anticipate the ears.”
I slipped the large sweatpants over my skirt, and they sagged a bit before I pulled the strings tied them tight. He took my ears and tucked them into his jacket.
“So, purple?”
“For you,” he answered simply.
My helmet came next, a sleek black design but he had it custom painted in the same purple color with Bunny written on the sides. He slipped it on, pulling the bottom part forward with his finger and dragging me to him. Dakota fastened the chin strap and tapped the top of my head before placing his on and mounting the bike. It roared to life, and I smiled, thankful he couldn’t see.
He held his hand out, helping me onto the bike as I swung my leg over and settled in behind him. Both hands reached back, palming my ass as he pulled me flush against his back.
“Get on me, girl.”
“We can’t get any closer,” I yelled over the loud engine, laughing and enjoying the contact of our bodies.
I wrapped my arms around his middle and laid my head on his back. My hands spread wide, covering as much of his chest and abdomen as I could. In these moments, it was easier to play off making sure I had a good hold on him when really, I selfishly wanted to touch him. He patted my hand before taking off and I tucked in with him as he raced down the highway.
For most, it wouldn’t seem like a special activity. What biker hasn’t had a backpack or several over the years? For us, it was different. I was his only passenger. Friends, girlfriends, family—it didn’t matter who they were to him, he didn’t let anyone else ride with him. No one else had a custom helmet and no one else sat in my seat.
All these behaviors considered, I had to wonder why we weren’t more. I wanted it, and if action served as a clue, at least part of him wanted it, too. I rubbed my hands over his chest and down his hard stomach. I kept making sweeping strokes as he exited and pulled to a stop at the light.
He reached back, gliding a hand over my thigh and over my knee. “Doing good?” I tapped his chest foryes, staying tucked into my hug unwilling to release him for anything.
Further down the highway, he pulled off down the long entrance of the park. Gory decorations lined the drive and set the mood. Even in a group setting, I was determined to make this night another special moment for us. An open parking space at the front caught his attention and he pulled in, squeezing my thigh one more time. Killing the engine, he held his hand out again to help me off.
I waited, knowing what came next. The last time I removed my helmet, he playfully popped my hand and told me that was his job. His fingers were cold against the skin of my neck and my cheeks flushed. He slid it off and I shook my hair out, causing him to pull another strand with gentle pressure.
Turning around, I pulled his sweatpants off with a little less grace than I hoped for since my foot got caught and I stumbled. Looking back at him, his expression was unreadable. “You okay?”
“Perfect,” he said, voice strained as he cleared his throat. Unzipping his jacket, he removed my ears and placed them back on my head. He fluffed out my hair and bent them into the right position looking very pleased with the image. “Can’t forget the best piece. Prettiest bunny.”
From his jacket pocket, he produced a bean with stitched, foxlike pointed ears.
“You did not just happen to have a matching hat…” He shrugged, a faint red tint to his cheeks.
“Have we ever been anything else? Come on.”
* * *
The small locker door slammed,keeping my pants and our helmets safe as we enjoyed the park. He led me through the main pavilion but didn’t stop at the blood-red fountain like normal.
