The crisp morning air hit my face as we stepped outside, the sun still low in the sky. Talon’s hand stayed firmly wrapped around mine as we walked toward the row of bikes parked along the side of the building.
My eyes automatically found his — a sleek, black beast with gleaming chrome that seemed to hum even when it was still. But before I could take another step toward it, Talon pulled me to the left, leading me past the bikes and toward a small garage tucked behind the building.
“Where are we going?” I asked, curious but not questioning. His fingers tightened slightly around mine as he glanced down at me, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
“Can’t haul groceries on the bike,” he said, his voice low and teasing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, twirling them arou
