Motorcycle Babe

RedLipstick andRegrets

Raven

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I groan and roll over.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Goddammit.” I yank the pillow over my head.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Oh, for f**k’s sake.” I grabbed the phone and hurled it across the room.

“Mmm, baby…” a sleepy voice mumbles next to me. “Can you shut that stupid alarm off, please? I need more beauty sleep.”

I sigh loud enough to wake the dead and sit up, rubbing my eyes and temple before dragging myself out of bed. I grab my phone off the floor, shut the damn thing off, and glance back at the bed.

Arielle’s sprawled there, naked under my sheets, one leg hanging out, hair messy as hell but still somehow model-perfect. She looks like sin wrapped in silk.

I wish it was Gabriella’s body instead.

Wait—what?

Nope. Nope. Not doing that. I shake my head hard, like that’ll knock the thought loose. But my chest tightens anyway, traitor that it is.

I pulled on some shorts and a tank top and sneaked out, shutting the door quietly because if Arielle wakes up, she’ll want round two, and honestly? I’m sore, tired, and not mentally prepared for her Olympic-level stamina.

My mom’s gone, per usual. Probably stuck in the office, pretending she doesn’t hate her job. I sigh and head to the kitchen, cracking eggs, tossing bacon into one pan, sausage in another, and pancake batter in a third. I multitask like a damn pro.

I’m flipping bacon when a pair of arms slides around my waist, and lips brush the back of my neck. I shiver—of course I do, because my neck is my weakness. But nobody needs to know that.

“Morning, gorgeous Rae,” Arielle mumbles against my skin.

“Morning, Arielle.” My voice comes out flat.

She giggles, hops up on the counter, and gives me that look—the same one she gave me last night before we spent hours “burning calories.” She wants a repeat performance, but my brain’s too foggy to function.

I shove a plate toward her. “Eat.”

She rolls her eyes but takes it to the table, her hips swaying like she’s auditioning for a music video. I groan under my breath, half frustrated, half tempted.

“So,” she says between bites, “what do you think we should go as for Daveon’s party?”

I shrug. “Don’t care.”

“Come on, Raven! This is my first Halloween party here—and our first as a couple! I want us to look amazing.”

I nearly choked. Couple? We act like one, sure, but hearing the word out loud feels like a handcuff clicking shut. I swallow my coffee instead of answering.

She humphs, stomps upstairs, and probably leaves the door half open on purpose. That’s her version of an invitation to come “apologize.” Normally, I’d take it. But not today.

I head to the garage instead.

My eyes land on the photo of me and Dad—both of us grinning, his bike gleaming in the background. For a second, I smiled back. Then the memory hits like a truck.

Literally.

Honking. Screeching tires. Oil. Fire. Blood.

My hands shaking as I hold someone—her—begging her to stay awake.

I bite down hard and wipe my eyes before a tear can win. “Not today,” I mutter. I glance at my reflection, at the scar that cuts along my jaw. My reminder. My punishment.

I sigh and go back to tinkering with my bike. It’s the only thing that makes sense anymore.

“We’re here, Arielle baby.” I cut the engine, taking off my helmet and hanging it on the handlebars.

She slides off behind me, flipping her hair. “Next time, we’re taking my car. The wind ruins my hair.”

I snort. “Yeah right. I’m not showing up to Daveon’s party in a Prius.”

She smirks. “Who said Prius? I’ve got a Camaro in the shop getting tuned up.”

My jaw drops. “Okay, you won that one.”

She giggles, presses a kiss to my lips, leaving that damn red lipstick stain.

“Really? Arielle, I told you not to kiss me with that stuff! It’s like superglue.”

“Just claiming what’s mine,” she whispers in my ear before licking it. I shiver again, traitorous body that it is.

She drags me inside where the party’s already chaos—music blasting, people grinding, smoke everywhere, and more drinks than common sense.

We barely make it to the kitchen before someone yells, “Oi, Raven! Come take shots!”

Arielle starts to say something, but I’m already walking. “f**k it,” I grin.

The burn of tequila hits hard, but it feels good. Three shots later, I’m floating. I look around—and then I see her.

Gabriella.

Holy. s**t.

Under the lights, she looks unreal. Her hair’s curled and loose, dark and glossy. She’s laughing, probably at something Kyle said, wearing this short black dress and white angel wings—sneakers on her feet, like the world bends to her comfort.

My chest tightens again.

Before I can move, Arielle appears out of nowhere, tipsy and territorial. “Baby,” she slurs, cupping my face, “where’ve you been?”

And before I can answer, she’s kissing me. Hard. Her lipstick smudges my lips, and I can taste the tequila on her tongue.

It’s messy. Hot. Stupid.

And Gabriella’s watching.

Her eyes are wide—hurt? Jealous? I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t look away from her.

Arielle gets dragged off by one of her friends for pictures, leaving me standing there drunk, frustrated, and bleeding thoughts of Gabriella.

I need air.

Outside, the cold bites through my jacket, but I welcome it. It’s quiet, almost peaceful. Until I hear her voice.

“Raven? You okay?”

That voice. Soft, worried. The one that still echoes in my head when everything else is silent.

I turn. Our eyes meet. My heart stops.

She looks like she’s been sculpted out of my worst temptations—pink cheeks, soft lips, those eyes that see right through me.

I smirk, because what else do I do? “Yeah, I’m cool. Just… a lot of temptation right now. Especially standing in front of me.”

Her blush deepens, and she tucks her hair behind her ear—baring her neck. My favorite spot.

I take a step closer before I even realize it. I want to touch her, pull her in, kiss her like I should’ve done every single time I had the chance.

But I can’t. Not again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks softly. “You look like you’re crying.”

I touch my face—s**t, there’s a tear. “Uh, I’m high,” I lie.

“But… I didn’t see you smoke,” she says, frowning.

I grin lazily. “And how would you know? You've been watching me all night?”

Her eyes go wide, cheeks pink. “Um, I—uh—”

I’m about to tease her more when I hear Arielle’s voice.

“Baby! There you are! Daveon says there’s a room we can use.”

Gabriella’s whole face changes—shock, then something that looks a lot like pain. She turns and walks off before I can say a word.

I watched her go, my stomach twisting.

Arielle crashes her lips into mine again, dragging me back into the chaos. I kiss her, but my mind isn’t there. It’s with the girl walking away.

She pulls back, breathless. “Who was that?”

I smirk to hide the ache. “Just a ghost from my past. Don’t worry about it.”

And I pull her back in—because it’s easier than facing what I really feel.

I still love her.