Phoenix:
We finally made it to the shop. Gravel crackled beneath the tires as I pulled into my usual spot, the engine humming down beneath us. Ryder slid off the bike first, slow and sure, stretching out like a cat as he tugged off his helmet. I followed, kicking my kickstand down and lifting mine with one hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear with the other.
The sun was already high, warm on my skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire still simmering in my chest from the way Ryder had held me the whole ride. His hands on my waist, his chest pressed to my back—it felt like some unspoken vow, a silent confession, and every time the wind caught my shirt, I remembered the way his breath had brushed against my neck.
He leaned in like he had all the time in the world and pr
