Princess Lessons
“Are you sure this is going to work?” I ask Quince as I approach cautiously.
“Without a doubt.” His smile is almost reassuring.
“I don’t know…”
My voice trails off as he reaches out a hand. With that smile and those brilliant Caribbean blue eyes shining at me, how can I resist?
“Okay,” I say with a forced smile, “let’s do this.”
He guides me over to Princess, his beloved motorcycle, and starts rattling off terms like throttle and transmission and tachometer. My breath quickens as I start to begin myself soaring down the highway, unprotected, on a speeding hunk of metal. And not soaring in a good way.
“No,” I blurt, pulling my hand from his. “I can’t. I just…” I shake my head. “I can’t.”
His brows furrow, and I can tell he’s worried about me. “Lily, it’s not that—”
