affliction

forty-nine

Beth's POV

"Beth, just get on the damn bike."

I raise my arms. "That thing is a death trap! Absolutely not!"

He groans and shuts his eyes. "Baby, listen. You know how to ride a motorcycle. You literally own one. That one, actually." He points to the bike on the other side of him. "I promise I won't kill you."

I stare at him in silence for a minute. We'd been fighting for 10 minutes about how we're getting to the restaurant. There's like 30 cars in this garage, why would we not take one of those? They all seem a hell of a lot safer. I huff. "Are you really gonna make me do this?"

He gives me a face, shaking the helmet in front of him. He speaks in a sing-song voice, "It might help you get some memories back."

I immediately reach forward and grab the helmet. He laughs as I swing my leg over the seat and land behind him. I pull the helmet over my head. "Fine. But be careful."

He turns the key in the ignition and starts the bike before pulling on his own helmet. "I just got you back, no chance I'm gonna kill you, babe. Now hold on."

I wrap my arms tightly around his torso as he pushes the kick stand with his foot. He slowly starts to pull away and my grip gets tighter. He laughs. "Jesus, forgot you were stronger now. Try not to crush my ribs, yeah?"

I groan. "Fuck off and drive, shitbag."

He laughs loudly before accelerating and pulling us out of the garage. After a few minutes, I'm not nearly as scared as I was before. He seems to have everything under control, he's not driving like a maniac or anything.

Wait? Why am I scared? Didn't the shit they put in me give me super fast healing or something? Even if we crashed, I doubt it would be fatal.

Once I came to that realization, I calmed down substantially. My grip on him loosened a lot, enough to where my arms were just kind of casually resting on his stomach.

A very hard, chiseled stomach, might I add.

It's taking everything in my not to stick my fucking hands up his shirt.

Actually, you know what?

Natasha did say next time I wanted to kiss him, do it because he definitely wouldn't mind. I think that could count for this, too.

I decide to test the waters a little by using my right hand to feel the lines of his abs through his shirt. I feel his body tense a bit for a second before immediately relaxing again. I take this as a sign to continue. I trace lines in his torso by following the grooves of his muscles. My left hand stays still on the bottom of his stomach the entire time, not wanting to go too far until I know he is comfortable with this.

We pull up to a stoplight and the motorcycle comes to a stop. He lifts up the visor on his helmet and turns his head back to speak to me, a smile plastered on his face. "You having fun back there?"

I pull my visor up with my left hand and laugh. "Most definitely. You don't mind do you?"

He scoffs. "You could strip me naked right here in the middle of downtown and I wouldn't care. Have at it."

I smirk at him. "What about," I take my right hand and stick it up the front of his shirt, now touching his bare skin, "now?"

His eyes close like he's in pure paradise the second my hand touches his skin. "Let me make this clear. You always have the right to feel me up, memories or not. Understood?"

My stomach tightens at his sentence, it's an odd feeling. I smirk at him and say, "Light's green," before flipping my visor back down and attaching my left hand to the inside of his shirt as well.