“Runs great,” he said. “A little rough on the idle, though. She really needs a long, hard ride.”
At that statement, Felicia Gomez made an ostentatious throat-clearing noise and Grayson looked over at her, clearly mystified.
“Let’s get the bike back in the garage,” I said, sounding a little strangled myself.
Luckily, Grayson didn’t argue, but only got off the bike and rolled it inside. I hurried past him and hit the button for the garage door opener so Felicia couldn’t eavesdrop on any more of our conversation.
“What was that about?” he asked.
“Nothing. Anyway, I’m sure you’re jonesing for a road trip, but I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.”
“Why not?”
“Well, there’s your total lack of a license, for one thing,” I said. “If we get pulled over — ”
“Why would we get pulled over? Y
