Ride or Die, Baby!

Hop On

The motorcycle stopped.

Rain hammered the street. The black bike sat between me and the car, engine low and steady. The rider reached up with one gloved hand and pushed the dark visor all the way open.

Jose.

Water ran down the side of his helmet and over the sharp line of his jaw. His eyes found mine through the rain. Dark. Steady. No surprise in them. Like he had expected to find me exactly here.

He didn’t reach for me. Didn’t touch me at all.

“The car’s been behind you for six blocks,” he said. His voice cut through the rain, low and even. “You have a choice. Keep walking, or get on.”

My heart slammed so hard I felt it in my throat. Rain soaked through my hoodie and stuck the fabric to my skin. I could still see the car’s headlights glowing behind him, waiting.

“I don’t need—”

“Yes, you do.” He didn’t raise his voice. “It’s not going to stop because you tell it to. Get on the bike, Elara.”

The way he said my name landed low in my stomach. Heat flared under the cold rain. I hated that my body reacted even now—even with fear still tight in my chest and the proof that he had been watching me sitting like a stone behind my ribs.

I looked past him at the car. It hadn’t moved.

“How do you know how long it’s been following me?” My voice came out thinner than I wanted.

“I’ve been behind it.” He kept his eyes on mine. “Six blocks. Maybe more before that. You’re not going to outwalk it in this weather. Get on.”

I hesitated. Rain dripped from my hood onto my face. Every instinct said the last person I should climb onto a bike with was the one who had asked about my library schedule and parked outside my window. The same one whose stare in the hallway had left me wet and restless for hours.

But the car was still there.

Jose shifted slightly on the seat, the leather of his jacket creaking. He still didn’t touch me. He just waited, engine idling, rain beading on his shoulders, like he had all night and knew exactly which choice I would make.

“I can call someone,” I said.

“You could.” His gaze flicked once toward the car and back. “Or you can get on and be home in five minutes instead of giving whoever’s in that car more time to decide what they want.”

The words sat heavy between us. My clothes clung to me, cold and heavy. I could feel the rain running down the back of my neck.

I stepped closer to the bike.

Jose didn’t smile. He didn’t look triumphant. He simply held the bike steady while I swung my leg over and settled behind him. The seat was warm from his body. My thighs framed his hips. The moment my chest pressed to the solid line of his back, heat shot through me that had nothing to do with fear.

I didn’t know where to put my hands.

He reached back, found my wrist in the rain, and drew my arm around his waist. His gloved hand covered mine for a second—firm, deliberate—pressing my palm flat against the hard plane of his stomach before he let go and faced forward again.

“Hold on.”

I did.

He opened the throttle. The bike surged forward, rain slicing past us. I locked my arms tighter around him without meaning to. The vibration of the engine traveled up through the seat and into my body. Every shift of his weight moved me with him. My breasts were crushed against the wet leather of his jacket. I could feel the flex of muscle under my hands each time he adjusted the bike.

We didn’t speak.

Streetlights smeared across the wet road. The car’s headlights disappeared behind us within a block. I kept my face turned against his shoulder, breathing in rain and leather and the faint clean scent of him. My pulse throbbed between my legs in time with the engine. I told myself it was leftover adrenaline. I knew it wasn’t. The same pull that had made me stare at him across campus was now pressed fully against my front, hard and warm and inescapable.

His hand came back once more, briefly, covering both of mine where they rested on his stomach. A wordless check. Then it returned to the handlebar.

The ride ended too fast and not fast enough.

He pulled up in front of my building and killed the engine. Rain still fell in a steady curtain. I stayed frozen for a second longer than I should have, body still molded to his, before I forced myself to let go and climb off.

My legs felt unsteady.

Jose swung off the bike in one smooth movement. He walked me the short distance to the outer door without touching me again. Water dripped from his helmet onto the steps. He stopped there, visor still up, eyes on mine.

“You’re not walking alone at night again.”

One quiet sentence. Final. Like he had already decided the rule and my agreement was optional.

I opened my mouth. Nothing useful came out.

He watched me for another second, rain sliding down his face, then turned and walked back to the bike. The engine growled to life. He didn’t look at me again as he pulled away into the dark.

I let myself into the building with fingers that barely worked. Inside my apartment I leaned against the closed door and looked down.

My hands were shaking.

I crossed to the window on unsteady legs and pulled the curtain aside just enough to see the street.

The car that had followed me was parked at the end of the block. Headlights dark. Waiting.