Breaking The Rules

Chapter 24

I was trying to do a good thing, but the leafless trees made my mood sour as I stepped outside the front door of the Hockey House. Winters in New York were snowy. Which led to the one thing that took away my freedom for at least four months out of the year.

Messy roads.

Winter was soon approaching and with that came the realization that I'd have to put my motorcycle away for safekeeping. While I didn't usually have to travel too far, Fenton university wasn't the most notorious for keeping their campus road clear. That left me to do one of two things; bite the bullet and invest in a winter beater or depend on the boys to get me to and from campus.

Depending on the boys to get anywhere wasn't high on my list of favourite things to do. Especially when I was left waiting around for Booker. But the more I tried to rationalize getting a car, the more I fell short.

I had one more year at Fenton before I would––hopefully––be jet setting right into the NHL. But even more than that, between Booker's Bronco and Hendrix's monster of a truck, there just wasn't any more room for another vehicle.

Unaware of my runaway thoughts, Celeste followed down the steps behind me. When we reached the bottom, I held out a helmet that I scooped off the entry table to her. She stared at the black surface. Shiny enough to reflect her confused expression.

"I guess there's no chance of taking a car?" she asked, peering up at me with unblinking eyes.

"Where's the fun in that?" I grinned, nudging it toward her. "Trust me, this is the fun part of our little outing."

Celeste's smile grew tight, but took it anyways. Her eyes widened a fraction at the unfamiliar weight, arm dropping as she muttered, "I'll take your word for it."

"Good," I replied.

I turned my back to her to hide the smile that was growing on my face. From her reaction, I knew the ride was going to be an entertaining one.

I made my way over to the garage, punching in the code that allowed the doors to slide open. Booker's blue Bronco was parked inside. My jet black Kawasaki Ninja pressed up against the unfinished wall.

Celeste's gaze burned into me as I kicked up the stand, pulling down my extra helmet, as I ushered my baby out onto the driveway.

"You should feel pretty honoured," I mused, as she crossed her arms across her chest. "I don't give very many people the opportunity to double-ride with me."

"Something tells me that's a lie."

It was. But she didn't need to know that.

I threw my leg over the top of the bike, getting comfortable and waiting until she settled in behind me. But she didn't and I knew she was deciding if this would all be worth it. The helmet slipped over my head, the clasp under my chin clicking as I snapped it together. I flipped the visor down. The more the seconds past, the more I was sure Celeste was going to change her mind and head back inside.

Then she slipped the helmet over her head. The second her arms wrapped around my waist, her warmth seeped through the material of my jacket.

Once she was holding on tight, I started the engine, and we took off, speeding through the city streets. The hum of the bike and the rush of the wind drowned out the little squeal that left her lips as I accelerated. The grip she had around my waist was welcomed. By the time we reached our destination, her hold around me had loosened, though I was in no hurry for her to let go.

We rolled up into a parking lot, the neon sign of a building beaming down on us in welcome. It was a place I had frequented once or twice––but it soon lost its novelty. Celeste on the other hand, I knew this was exactly what she was needing. As soon as I cut the engine, she hopped off, removing the helmet.