I sit upright, narrow my eyes on him with severe scrutiny, and start patting at his clothes, looking for the keys to his bike because I am sure he came here on it, and the accident line is bullshit. If he thinks I will sit back and watch him ride off into the night, he’s got another thing coming.
“What are you doing?” Dane sits up too, trying to catch my wrists as I slide my hands into his hoodie pockets, looking for them, and end up wrestling him while fighting to keep searching. Combatting his slower-than-usual responses and getting the upper hand because moving hurts him. Dane catches my hands, pins them behind my back, and yanks me into his chest so I can’t get loose. We end up nose to nose, with both of us half kneeling, half sitting, and breathing hard.
“I know your bike is out fr
