Sergei starts the engine, and I quickly wrap my arms around his waist, clutching him with a mad grip. That first tug when he takes off is the worst. Even after the numerous times he’s taken me for a ride, I still need a couple of minutes to adjust to the idea being on the back of a motorcycle. I can’t help it. The thought that vehicles with two wheels shouldn’t exist won’t leave me. But then, I remember it’s Sergei driving, so I relax and let myself enjoy the adrenaline surge.
I have seen him ride the bike alone. It’s f*****g madness. I keep thinking he’ll crash into something. When I saw him doing that idiotic thing on one wheel last week, I almost had a heart attack. He never tries that when I’m with him, though, thank God.
We drive along the highway for about forty minutes before he t
