I did, clenching my jaw the entire time. Then, in another heartbeat, his engine growled to life and we were off.
Lurching from the sudden speed, I let out a little yelp, hugging him for dear life. His abs rippled underneath my fingers, perfect and happy, his chuckle drowned out by the engine's rumble.
We rode through the hills leading into town. Every bump where I didn't fall off the bike gave me a little more confidence. Slowly, I eased up straight, edging my grip on his muscles until I finally had my bearings.
The bike must've scared the hell out of me for at least a solid minute. But by the time I realized I wasn't clinging to him like a scared cat, I also had the smile pulling at my lips, one he saw in his mirrors.
“Shit, little girl, you sure you've never ridden before? You're doing fuckin' fantastic. Looks like you belong back there.”
My face lit up. I leaned into him a little more, relishing the cool southern breeze, catching a whiff of something rolling off him that warmed my blood.
He smelled...amazing.
Oil and pine mingled with leather, a tinge of tobacco, and a bold masculine musk that sent shockwaves rippling through me.
It'd been too long since I'd had a crush. I'd been a late bloomer, and carried a few extra pounds from too many late night dinners in Uncle Robby's bar.
New excitement tightened my core like a lasso, every time I inhaled the oxygen alive with Jackson, Joker, this raging ghost who'd torn through my life and saved me from one more tragedy.
“I like this,” I whispered softly. “It's smoother than I expected out here, I mean. Can't imagine what it must be like on the highways.”
“Babe, it's smooth as a fuckin' hawk's tail. Ain't nothing like riding. Everything else in this world can get fucked. When you're out here on the road, you find peace. Some folks find themselves. Same thing sailors and pilots are after when they're gliding along, free as the day they were born.”
I blinked, surprised that his words were so poetic, between all the crude curses. How many layers were there to Joker and his twin?
Everybody talked about them like they were the last devils you'd ever want to run into at night on an abandoned road or in a broken down back alley. Maybe that was true.
But if these boys were demons, then they were the slickest, fittest bastards who'd ever crawled out of hell.
They were the fairest, the realist, the most tragic. Because in another time and place, they might've been heroes, not part of an outlaw biker gang with skulls and guns all over their bodies.
Too bad this was Seddon, and this town didn't forgive. Joker probably had more mercy in his deadly makeup than this God-forsaken place.
That scared me. Turned my blood to bitter ice, or it would've, if only holding onto him didn't make me thaw.
Joker felt warm. Strong. Like the fire in his blood burbled to the surface, brightening the world around it, the only flame shielding me from the greater darkness.
Several minutes on his bike, and I never wanted it to end.
Of course, it did, and soon we were coming down my street, rounding our way down the long unpaved road to mama's house.
“No lights on. Your ma must go to bed early, yeah?” he asked, killing his engine before we crept too close to her car, and jerking off his helmet. He turned around.
Those bright, hazel eyes glowed like a mountain lion's in the moonlight. I lowered my eyes, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second.
“Yeah. She hasn't been doing too well lately. The doctors don't know what it is.”
Or if they know, she isn't telling me, I thought bleakly. Mama hated when I suffered or worried about her, so she hid the hurt. Just kept it to herself, except for the nights when the breakdown in her body became so overwhelming she cried in her sleep.
Joker stood up, extended a hand, and locked his fingers perfectly in mine. The helmet slid off my head. He helped me up, tucking a loose lock of hair back behind my ear.
“It's been one fuck of a night. Go crash, Summer. Sleep it off 'til you can't remember that prick I knocked to hell back there. He ain't worth your time. Bastard'll be too fuckin' busy getting his face rebuilt to worry about giving you any more trouble. Promise. Tomorrow's gonna be better than this shit.”
“It hasn't been all bad,” I said shyly, dragging one foot on the ground.
God. I was like a cartoon schoolgirl with my heart beating out of my chest every time I tried to speak to him.
Stupid.
Outrageous.
Irresistible.
“Yeah?” he said, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette, then giving it a flame. “Can't say I see the glass half full when it's full of mud, but I ain't blaming you for looking on the sunny side. Keep that shit up. You'll go places, little Summer.”
Little? Jesus, he couldn't be more than five or ten years older than me. My heart sank, flaming the whole way down, hating the fact that he just saw me as some dumb girl he'd pulled from the fire.