TweetyGram

20 - #Playroom

When I said yes to Jake's offer, I totally forgot he didn't have a car. The only vehicle he had was a Ducati. The shiny yellow motorcycle was fairly new, so the chances of it breaking down in the middle of the road like my 15-year-old car were slim.

"Here you go." Jake offered me the spare helmet.

A ball of anxiety formed in my stomach as I stared at the polished bike. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea." I licked my dry lips. "What if it rains?"

"Don't worry, Shrimp. I've checked the weather forecast for tonight. It won't rain again."

Although the smell of rain lingered in the evening air, most of the clouds had dissipated. The sky was dark, but I could see the lovely moon peeking behind the remaining clouds. Jake was right; it probably wouldn't rain again tonight.

"Yeah, but the road's still wet," I argued. "Your bike might slip, and we might have an accident, and I certainly can't afford another trip to the—"

He cocked his head forward and narrowed his eyes at me, forcing me to pull my head back. "Is this your first time riding a bike?"

"No," I lied. "Of course, I've ridden bikes before."

"Bikes as in motorcycles?"

I avoided his gaze. "That's not the point. The point is this is dangerous—"

"Hey, wait a minute." His lips curved into a smirk and his eyes twinkled with challenge. "Are you scared?"

I drew a sharp breath. Scared, my butt. Pursing my lips together, I snatched the spare helmet from his hand and shoved it onto my head. As he let out a chuckle, I clicked the strap under my chin and climbed onto the pillion.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." My limbs trembled, but I held my head high and kept a straight face.

"Alright." He turned the key in the ignition.

As the engine roared to life, I flinched. This is a terrible idea.

"If it makes you feel any better," he shouted over the loud noise, "I've only gotten into a motorcycle crash once. And that wasn't even my fault. Some jackass sped past the red light and hit me. I got a few stitches and had to spend months in crutches after that, but—" As my jaw dropped wide open in horror, he let out an awkward laugh. "Don't worry. I haven't gotten into a single accident after that."

I frowned at him. "That's not reassuring at all."

"I'll be super careful. I promise." There was something in his eyes that managed to calm my nerves.

Releasing a slow breath, I dragged myself closer to him. As I slowly wrapped my arms around his waist, my pulse began to race.

It was the nerves talking.

It had to be.

"Ready?" He looked over his shoulder at me.

I lifted my hand and gave him a thumbs-up.

"Hold on tight." He leaned forward and kicked the bike into gear.

As the bike began to move, I tightened my grip around him. This is going to be one hell of a Friday night.

***

"So you just dragged me out of my apartment to buy food for Princess Tortie?"

I scanned the various cans of cat food on the shelves. I had no idea there were so many different kinds of cat food and treats. Or that there were cat food sold at twice the price of my breakfast, lunch, and dinner combined. Or that 10-year-old cats like Princess Tortie weren't considered a senior cat yet.