seven
Lucy
“No way,”I say when I see Luke's motorcycle parked on the side of the curb. “You're not getting me on that death trap.”
He gives me that infuriating smirk of his as he says challengingly, “Lucy, are you that uptight that you won’t ride a motorcycle?”
I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “It has nothing to do with being uptight,” I retort back. “It has to do with having common sense—something you obviously have none of.” I quote off statistics of how many people die in motorcycle accidents every year, but he walks over to the back of the bike and ignores me as he grabs the helmet and plops it onto my head.
It's way too big for me, which lets me know it must be his, but he still pulls the strap as tight as it can go under my chin.
I glare up at him, and he gives me a crooked grin that makes my heart do a little flip in my chest. Damn him.
“You look adorable,” he murmurs before he bends down and drops a kiss on my nose. “And you’re always safe with me,” he adds.
I look around, my cheeks flaming. “Someone could have seen you,” I protest.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “So what? A brother can’t give his baby sister an affectionate kiss on the nose?”
“You're not my brother,” I grit out.
“My point exactly,” he comments dryly.
I open my mouth to argue further, but he places his hands on my waist and lifts me as if I weigh no more than a feather before dropping me onto the back of his bike. His eyes rove over my exposed thighs where my dress hikes up before settling on the panties I know are showing in between my legs.
He climbs onto the bike in front of me and arranges the dress under his butt to keep it from flying up before he grabs my arms and winds them around his middle.
“Hold on tight, baby girl,” he tells me as he revs up the motor.
I close my eyes as he pulls off from the curb. I clutch tightly against him, trying not to notice how good it feels to be this close to him. The scent of his cologne wraps around me, and I open my eyes and watch as we speed off down the highway.
Although I'm still terrified out of my mind, I enjoy the ride despite myself. It actually feels good having the wind whipping against my skin. There's a certain freedom in riding on the open road like this.
Still, I'm glad when Luke pulls up to his house, and it ends. He dismounts from the bike with one fluid motion before he turns me and lifts me off it like he’s plucking me off a horse.
I unsnap his helmet and hand it back to him. He takes it and then wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close against him, but I keep my wits about me this time and place my palms flat against his chest and push with all my might.
He stumbles back and releases me with a frown. I know better than to let him get his lips on me because once he does, all rational thought will go out the window. I know this.
“Thank you for the ride,” I tell him stiffly, “but this has to end here.”
He shakes his head stubbornly.
“Luke,” my voice turns pleading as I beg him to understand. “You have to see why this won't work, right? My mom is married to your dad,” I remind him.
He just blinks at me and firms his jaw stubbornly before he growls out, “I don't give a fuck about all that.”
I purse my lips and cross my arms as I glare back at him. “Well, you should.”
“Well, I don't,” he bites back stubbornly.
I shake my head and begin walking toward my house. I feel his hand wrap around my wrist.
I turn around and yank myself free from his hold.
“Stop!” I raise my voice at him firmly.
He stops in his tracks, though his eyes flare with anger.