Louis was waiting by his bike. For some reason, a wild thought popped into my head just then: maybe in the future I’d stop liking biker boys so much. They didn’t seem to be that good for me, no matter how different they seemed from one another.
He handed me a helmet, his I guessed.
“No, thank you. I don’t really need that anymore.”
He smirked, still holding out the helmet. “Are you finally trusting my skills?”
“No, I am just a lot harder to kill now.”
I got on the bike and held him tightly, not worrying about safety. My sense of equilibrium, my strength, and my fast reactions made a lot of things easier. The Harley sounded a little different, it was a much richer sound. But every sound had a deeper texture now. Listening to music came with new pleasures, there were tones in people’s v
