Sidelined (The QB Bad Boy and Me)

(12) "We need to talk."

"I can't do this!"

I'm sitting on Drayton's motorcycle, now wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeve top, seriously panicking because he expects me to know what the hell I'm doing after a few run throughs. He's explained all the basic instructions and I'm clear on what I'm supposed to do. But actually doing it is a completely different story.

"You can do it," he encourages from beside me. "Your street is quiet. I've explained what to do. You'll be fine."

"Dray, I could legitimately crash this thing and I can't afford to replace it!"

"I can." he shrugs with folded arms. "Think about how much you loved it last night and you weren't even driving."

His cavalier attitude is seriously concerning. I can't even reach the ground while I'm sitting on the bike, I'm just balancing while the stand is still down. He reaches forward and turns the key on and then explains what I need to do for the fifth time as he pulls the helmet over my head.

"I'm gonna kick the stand up now," he warns with raised brows. "When I kick it up, release the clutch" - he points to the left handlebar - "Slowly! Then give it some gas, but not too much. Just go around your street and come back."

"You can do it Dallas!" Spencer cheers me on from the front step where she's watching. I'm pretty sure she's just been sitting there drooling over Drayton the entire time though.

I try to steady my heartbeat as he kicks the stand up and I do as he instructed. Slowly releasing the clutch lever, the bike starts to roll forward. I give it a little gas by rolling the throttle on the right handlebar forward and the bike jolts, stalling before it starts to tip.

"Fuck," I squeal with panic.

It doesn't topple though. Drayton appears in front of me and lifts it back up, his toned arms flexing under the weight. "It's alright. It happens—"

"I'm going to wreck this thing!"

"You won't," he tells me, holding my thigh as he leans across and turns the engine back on. "Give it another go. It's normal to stall in the beginning."

So I take a deep breath and go through the steps, stalling a few more times. But on about the sixth attempt, much to my amazement it doesn't stall but starts to move.

"Yes!" Drayton cheers from behind me. "Don't forget to gear up. Listen to the engine."

I guide out of the driveway and on to the road, gaining a little more speed as I go, so I pull the clutch back in and release the throttle ever so slightly as I flick the gear lever down with my left foot. I feather the clutch out and increase the throttle again, picking up a little more speed as I travel down the street. The speed in no way matches what we'd been doing last night but the same sensation starts to pump through me.

The feeling of freedom and sense of presence and power. The exhilaration gives me confidence and I can't help but laugh loudly as I absorb the scenes that pass me by.

Feeling as though I've got the hang of it I speed up a little more and change gears again. Part of me wishes that I could do it without the helmet so that I can feel the wind rushing through my hair. But that would be incredibly stupid and dangerous so I don't bother considering it.

As I near the end of the street I slow down and glide around the dead-end, heading back in the direction I had just come from. On the last stretch home, I gear up and go the quickest I've gone so far, revelling in the control and purity of how it feels to fly through the wind.