“When we’re on the road,” he continued, “lean when I lean. Don’t ever lean the opposite direction. If there’s some emergency, tap my chest. I don’t have mics in the helmets, so we can’t really talk once we get going.”
I could feel dozens of eyes on us as I put my foot on the back pedal, used his shoulder to brace myself, and swung my leg over the seat ungracefully, wriggling into place behind him. The passenger seat was shallow and backless, which meant if I wasn’t basically spooning him from thigh to neck, I would fall off. Not really wanting to touch him, but seeing nothing else to hold on to, I rested my hands lightly on the sides of his waist and leaned back so at least my chest wasn’t plastered to his spine.
He stuck the key in the ignition. “You planning on staying on the bike?”
I nodded vigorously. “Yes.”
He started the engine. “Then hold on. I don’t bite.”
I threw my arms around his waist, afraid he was going to take off with or without me, and could feel the vibrations through his jacket as he laughed. Kicking up the stand, he backed up the bike and pulled out of the parking lot. Even over the hum of the engine, I could hear the rabid gossip start up the second we were on our way.
It wasn’t long before we were out of sight of the town and up in the winding mountain roads. I didn’t know exactly how much I was supposed to lean, but soon figured out that as long as I held on to him, the two of us moved together by default.
I was actually beginning to relax when a sixteen-wheeler roared past going the opposite direction. I felt a rush of air flare against the bike, rocking it. Part of me wanted to slap Adrian on the chest so he could let me off, but I figured if I was going to die, crashing on a Harley with a man who wore designer jeans wasn’t the worst way to go.
A few minutes later we reached the turnoff for the ranch, but Adrian kept going. I was about to yell that he’d missed it, but realized getting him to turn around at fifty miles an hour to look at me was not the brightest idea I’d ever had. We drove along for another ten minutes before he pulled onto the side of the road and we shoved our helmets off.
“The ranch is back there,” I said, pointing over my shoulder.
“I know. I thought you should see this.”
He nodded toward the sun, already low in the sky. Miles below, the center of Stony Creek was no more than a few pinpricks of light and chimney smoke. This late in the fall the forest looked like it was on fire in the brush of late-afternoon light. The breeze touched my face and for a brief moment I closed my eyes and just breathed.
“It’s beautiful,” I told him, looking up.
He smiled, and it was one of the warmest I’d seen from him yet. He looked back down over the valley thoughtfully. “It grows on you. It’s a small town, but it’s in the middle of a big place.”
Once again, I wondered what someone like him was doing way out here. The nearest city was almost two hours away, and while the town was, admittedly, picturesque, it seemed a strange place for a kid like him to grow up.
Glancing back, I saw his eyes were pinched shut. “I thought you didn’t get headaches that often?”
“I don’t,” he said sharply, pulling his helmet back on. “Let’s go.”
When we pulled up to the ranch, I could see Norah spying on us through the kitchen window. Ignoring her, I handed him my helmet and swung clumsily off the bike, pausing a few feet away, not certain how to end our encounter. I settled with a safe “thanks for the ride.”
He looked me over once. “It’ll be colder in the morning, so dress warmly.”
I guess that meant this wasn’t a one-time thing. He started the engine and took off without a backward glance.
What an odd guy. Hot—but odd.
Sadly, it didn’t look like Rachel had been around to witness the Harley. As soon as I closed the front door, Norah pounced.
“What was that?” she demanded.
I looked around innocently. “What?”
“You!” She pointed at the door. “Adrian.”
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a Pop-Tart from the pantry, ignoring her, but she trailed after me. “He never lets anyone on that bike,” she persisted. “I’ve heard a ton of girls ask, and he always says no.” She paused, considering. “He’s kind of rude about it, actually. You’re here two days and he just offers to drive you home?”
I shrugged and bit into the pastry. “They’re the last house on this road besides us, right? He drives right by, maybe he’s just being neighborly.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then why hasn’t he offered me a ride before?”
I smiled thinly. “Maybe he’s got a thing for orphans.”
I walked past my cousin, heading upstairs to my room. I might have to keep Adrian around. Gay or not, he was becoming a very useful distraction.
*
My bed was freaking tiny.