Thirty and Single.

Chapter 12.

Why did he kiss me?

That question played on repeat in my head like a broken record. I tossed and turned all night, not because I enjoyed the kiss because I didn't. But the shock of it clung to me like static.

Why did Corey kiss me?

He didn't ask. He didn't wait. He just did it.

I fell asleep in a blur of confusion, thinking not of Corey's lips, but of Colton's warmth, his voice, the way his hand felt in mine. And when I finally drifted off, I dreamt of motorcycles and laughter.

Sunday slipped by like a ghost, silent and uneventful, but something still felt off. Like the air between Colton and me had shifted in a way I couldn't name.

By the time Monday morning arrived, a grey gloom had settled over me. I stared at my closet, uninspired, and threw on my least favourite dress, wrinkled at the hem and dull in colour. I didn't care. My energy was gone.

When I got to my car, it greeted me with the one thing I didn't need: silence. The engine wouldn't start. I slammed the steering wheel and let out a frustrated groan.

"Good morning, Green. Having a bad day?"

I jumped. I hadn't seen him there—Colton, leaning casually against the wooden railing near my driveway, arms folded, dressed in a navy hoodie and jeans that made him look like a walking daydream.

I exhaled slowly. "Hi, Colton."

He took a few steps closer. "Need a ride to work?"

I hesitated. I didn't want to seem needy. And besides, since when did he have a car?

I got my answer when he gestured behind him.

A motorbike.

"You're kidding."

"Nope," he said with a grin, clearly amused by my horrified expression.

"We're riding on that?"

"Yup."

I stared at the bike like it had personally offended me. My day was already spiralling, and now I had to face my fear of two-wheeled death traps.

Colton tilted his head. "Green, are you scared?"

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

He smiled softly. "It's going to be okay. Trust me."

Those words... I don't know why, but when he said them, I believed them.

Still nervous, I took a deep breath and climbed onto the bike behind him. He handed me a helmet and buckled his own.

"Just hold me. You'll be fine," he said gently.

So, I did.

And the moment my arms wrapped around his waist, a calm settled over me. His scent hit me like déjà vu, clean, masculine, a little like pine. I closed my eyes for a second and leaned into him.

By the time we reached my office building, I didn't want to let go.

"Thanks for the ride," I said, slipping off the bike.

"Anytime," he said, and that voice, it lingered like a melody in my ears.

I started walking toward the entrance, assuming he'd leave, but instead he parked the bike and followed me.

Confused, I slowed my pace. "Are you coming in?"

He flashed that boyish smile. "Surprise. I'm now working here."