Page 77 of Accepting Fate
I plant a quick kiss on her lips and place the helmet I’ve been holding for the last twenty minutes on her head. Once it’s secured, she flips up the visor and shakes back and forth, testing the fit of the helmet.
She’s either trying to push me or she’s actually nervous. Either way, her ass is getting on that bike, and we are going for a ride. At this point, I don’t care if we make it a mile down the road and she taps out. I just want to show her the freedom I feel every time I ride.
Picking up my backpack, I hold it open. “Anything you don’t want flying out of your pockets, toss it in here.”
Logan takes her phone and keys out of her jeans and drops them in the backpack.
She came downstairs after our shower fuck session in tiny shorts and a Harley t-shirt, and I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and go for round four. But no matter how much I loved seeing her in those shorts, I made her go put jeans on over them to protect her legs.
I’m starting to accept the fact that I will be walking around with a semi for the rest of my life. This girl is a walking wet dream in whatever she wears.
I drop my phone and wallet in the bag and zip it up. “Turn around, Angel.”
She does but I can see the confusion on her face. I place the backpack against her back, and she threads her arms through the straps. She turns back to face me, and I tug down on the straps, tightening them.
“What’s in this thing anyways?” Logan asks while fumbling with the strap of the backpack.
I grab my helmet off the seat and watch as Logan contemplates the best way to get on the bike. “Not much. First aid kit, extra shirt in case you get cold, sunglasses, bug spray, a hat, and a couple waters.”
Her eyebrows raise and she looks like she’s impressed at my preparedness.
Logan kicks her leg in the air and attempts to throw it over the bike, but bails at the last second. I want to tell her to let me get on first and she can use me as a stabilizer, but I enjoy watching her stubbornness shine.
My attempt at hiding my laugh is caught when her head whips around and sees me.
“Hey! I’m not doing this for myself. I’m trying to be a good–” she pauses and her cheeks flush with embarrassment. I know she was about to say girlfriend, but she stopped herself.
We haven’t had the conversation yet, but she knows she’s mine and I know I’m hers.
Stepping into her, I wind my arms around her waist. Her helmet covered head tilts up to look at me and she rests her palms on my chest.
I lean down so she can hear me clearly. “You’re trying to be a good girlfriend. Is that what you were going to say?”
“Yeah. Is that okay? We haven’t had the talk yet and I didn’t want to assume but you call me your girl all the time. But I haven’t been in a real relationship, so I don’t know the protocols for this situation. But it’s okay if you don’t want to be my boyfriend, we–”
I cut off her ramble by swiping the visor closed. When her hands fist my t-shirt and her body goes rigid, I know she’s pissed. Flipping the visor back up, her face is red.
“Sorry, Angel,” I explain right away. “Had to stop you right there. You are mine. I’m yours. Call me boyfriend, caveman, Bear. I don’t care. Hell, if you want to call me fiancé or husband, fucking do it. Whatever tells the world you’re mine and I’m yours, I’ll be it.”
Logan doesn’t say anything. I may have jumped the gun with the fiancé or husband shit, but I don’t care.
My hands go to her hips, and I shift her to the side so I can get on the bike. Kicking my leg over, I sit down. I feel Logan’s eyes on me as I put my helmet on and start the engine. The deep rumble echoes through the air.
I raise my hand and motion for Logan to come closer. “Trust me?”
She hesitates for a second and places her hand in mine. I talk her through the best way of getting on by gripping my shoulders and kicking her leg over. When she’s seated, I grab both of her arms that still rest on my shoulders and wrap them around my waist.
Glancing over my shoulder, I speak loud enough so she can hear me. “Follow my body. I lean, so do you. If you get scared, tap my leg and I’ll slow down. Understand?”
I will be going slow and checking on her every few minutes, but I know she will feel better if I give her signals.
She takes a second, but she eventually nods.
Using my feet, I back us up and make my way down the driveway. When I reach the end, I glance back at Logan, silently asking if she’s ready.
She tightens her arms around my waist and nods.
We take off down the road towards the hiking spot I want to show Logan. She’s rigid at first and robotic in her movements but as time goes on, she loosens up.