Page 60 of Battered Moves

As we come to a halt at a red light, she begins to rub my thighs. I place my hands on hers and reciprocate the gesture. Her hands feel cold, and I make a mental note to get her some gloves.

“Are you cold?” I yell back to her.

She just slides her hands under my jacket and shirt, her chilly fingers now pressing against my stomach, making me shudder.

“That’s not fair,” I yell over my shoulder, and she giggles mischievously.

I guide us to an Italian restaurant located on a more secluded side of the beach and park the bike in front of it.

“I’m hungry, and pizza sounds great. Can I take you to an early dinner?” I ask once I get my helmet off, shaking out my curls before turning to her. She hops off the bike and bounces up and down on her toes, still buzzing from the thrill of the ride.

“I don’t know if I can eat. I’m still full of adrenaline,” she says.

“Let’s try, at least,” I say, patting her hair and trying to smooth it down a bit.

We step into the cozy restaurant and settle into a table, ordering a pizza and two Cokes. As we wait for our food, we chat about the ride and laugh, Liv still high on the rush. When the pizza arrives, I dig in, savoring each delicious bite. The combination of the warm, gooey cheese and tangy tomato sauce is the perfect comfort food, and I feel my mood lift with every slice.

Liv gazes out at the beach, her expression dreamy.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask her before taking a sip of my Coke.

“It’s stupid,” she says on a sigh.

“Try me,” I say, smirking.

“You know all those vacation pictures from people in Bali, driving motorcycles on the beach?” she says, and I nod, having seen a few of them myself. “I think I’d like to do that someday.”

“What’s the selling point here?” I ask with a frown. “Bali, or driving a motorcycle on the beach?” She laughs.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be Bali, but I think driving on the sand would be pretty spectacular,” she answers.

The waiter passes us, and I ask for the check before turning back to Liv.

“Then let’s do it,” I say, and she smiles.

“Oh, you think we can just leave everything for a few days and fly to Bali?” she asks.

“Nice idea, but no,” I say, “Let’s just head down to the beach and ride the bike.”

“Is that even allowed here?” she whispers while leaning in, as if we’re discussing something illegal.

“It is, as long as we don’t put anyone in danger,” I say, and her face lights up with a smile.

“Chase, you’re the fucking best.”

I can’t help but laugh. It feels good to make her happy, and the thought of cruising down the beach on my bike with her behind me fills me with excitement.

I pay our bill and lead Liv out of the restaurant. As we get to the bike, I hand her her helmet, and she grins at me as she puts it on. We climb on the bike, and I rev the engine, feeling the power of the machine between my legs. We pull out onto the street, and I can feel the wind rush by as we speed toward the beach.

We get down to the shore, my heart racing. The sand is rough beneath the tires, but I steer the bike with confidence, feeling alive and free. I can hear Liv whooping with excitement behind me, so I glance back at her, seeing her with both arms stretched over her head, eyes closed, her hair whipping in the wind under the helmet, and I can’t help but fall for her even more.

We continue to drive down the beach, the wind rushing by and the sound of the waves crashing nearby. It’s a moment of pure joy, and I knowI’ll remember this forever.

I come to a stop on a section of the beach where I can lean the bike against a post of a walkway, and Liv jumps off, her eyes sparkling.

“That was amazing!” she exclaims, grinning from ear to ear, and I can’t help but smile back at her.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I had a great time too,” I say.

---