Saint:
The second I told Shay we were taking the bike, I saw the panic flash across her face. She tried to play it cool, but I wasn’t fooled. The way she hesitated, the way she kept adjusting the helmet strap even after I’d already tightened it—I knew she was nervous.
When we first took off, her grip was tight, almost desperate, fingers digging into my sides like I was the only thing keeping her grounded. And maybe I was.
But then, something changed.
The second she loosened her grip, I knew she was hooked. At first, she had clung to me like her life depended on it, but now, she was moving with me, trusting me. Feeling it.
I smirked when I felt her hands leave my waist, the wind carrying a soft laugh from her lips as she lifted her arms in the air. Damn, she looked beautiful like thi
