•TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE•

Chapter 2

《《 I'm using my phone to update the book, but I'm trying my best to not make any typos but if there's any that I missed please excuse it. ☺. Enjoy. XOXO 》》

He leaves his guitar behind and lets Derek know he'll come back for it later. He then walks towards me and using his hand by placing it in my back, he guides me past the door then stops in front of a black kind of a vintage looking motorbike with silver detail on the sides of it as well as on the rims.

A little confused I look up at him and he has this smart smirk plastered across his face and I immidiately know it's his. My damn isn't he good looking. Yes of course, leave it to my subconscious to state the obvious.

I watch him straddle the bike after handing me a black helmet, then watch the muscles on his back flex and relax through his navy t-shirt as he reaches forward for his from the handle bar. He fits his head through the tight space under his helmet and I do the same. Only difference is that mine covers the top and back of my head leaving my face open.

I hop on behind him and place my hands on his shoulders, making sure to not let my subconscious take charge of me, especially my hands and thoughts.

However, before I know it Chase places his left hand over my right hand and pulls it to his front oh boy! He taps my hand twice before turning to me halfway.

"Keep them there. You'll need a tight grip for this ride." Certain I've heard his smile through the muffled words leaving his helmet.

I'm glad he can't see my face because I'm certain it's red all over thanks to my thoughts.

I move my left hand down from his shoulder and around his front so that I can clasp my hands together and the bike roars to life when he turns the key.

I wonder what it feels like, what he feels like without the shirt. Better yet what he looks like....

Deciding not to snap at my subconscious but instead follow the chain of thoughts she's put on display for me as he leans in for a turn.

His core feels so firm and rigid against my hands and I have to fight the urge to run my hand up an down his core to count his abs. I purse my lips between my teeth as an attempt to gain more strength and control over myself.

We pass several blocks as we race down the busy streets swamped with cars. He stops the motorcycle in front of a block that's seems to be lined with a number of restaurants and bars. I release my grip from around him and pull out my helmet before climbing off the bike. I Hurriedly shake my head a couple of time before brushing my fingers through my hair to quickly get rid of the helmet hair.

As I wait for him to climb off the bike and join me I start looking around in a lousy attempt to not stare at his tall physic.

A hand glides to the middle of my back and I look up to him and he's gently smiling down at me, he then walks me into this bar themed restaurant with a 'Tommy's Stand' twinkling sign above the door.

There's a bar parallel from the door and stretches across either sides of the restaurant.
On one half of the room, sitting booths line up adjacent the bar, and on the other side there's a fair amount of round tables randomly placed filling the space enough to give too for people to manoeuvre through.

The lighting is dim but bright enough for someone to see the food on their plate. The place is neither too crowded nor too noisy. It's a perfect joint.

We head for a table by the corner we grab our seats and take the menus from the young man who followed us to our table. His name tag reads 'Paul' and he's in full black atire except from the white apron tied around his waist.