Mod High

Pizza My Heart

"Oh, no," I ferociously shook my head. "There is no way in hell."

"C'mon, Rachel," Garfield patted the seat behind him, "she's friendly, I promise."

"Oh, the bike I can trust," I spoke matter-of-factly. "It's the driver I'm afraid of. At least in a car I would have a chance of survival, but a motorcycle?"

"Chill out, Rae! I've got helmets and everything. Besides, I've been driving this baby for almost three years now. Not even a speeding ticket."

"That's shocking."

"I'll have you know I'm a great driver."

He offered me his spare helmet.

"I'll be the judge of that," I commented as I secured the helmet onto my head.

"You're probably gonna want this, too," he said. "It can get pretty cold now that it's fall."

"What about you?" I asked as I slipped my arms into the sleeves of his denim jacket.

"Used to it," he shrugged. He definitely wasn't as coy as he thought he was when trying to be cool. I rolled my eyes and let out a small chuckle the minute he turned his back.

"I heard that."

"How did-"

"I have my ways, Rae."

The evening light caught his blue eyes in the most mesmerizing way. He was poised so effortlessly mounting the bike and gazing back at me with a mischievous grin plastered on his unblemished face. The wisps of blonde swayed in the gentle breeze.

"Cat got your tongue?"

That grin morphed into a smirk before he put his own helmet on. It started to feel really warm underneath mine, but I was grateful for the privacy it provided.

I mounted the bike behind him. Realizing there were no handles to prevent me from flying off the back, I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Garfield?" I spoke sweetly, pressing myself against his back.

"Yea?" His voice cracked slightly, so he cleared his throat, "Yes?"

"It's Rachel."

His body relaxed against mine as he laughed.

"Yes, ma'am," he revved the engine. "Ready?"

"Are we ever really ready to die?"

"You know, you're more dramatic than I thought you'd be."

With that comment, we zoomed down the street towards the highway. The wind zipped by which caused the front of Garfield's white t-shirt to fly up. My hand touched the exposed skin of his abs for a split second.

In an attempt to make the situation less awkward, I definitely made it more awkward.

With a little effort, I managed to catch the fabric in my hand. That wasn't the awkward part. That came as I slid my hand down his chest and across his surprisingly toned stomach until his shirt was back in place.

"That was awkward," I mumbled.

"It's only awkward if you make it awkward," Garfield's voice resonated throughout a speaker in the helmet.

"You could hear me the whole time!?"

"Well, yea, didn't I tell you?"

"No. You didn't."

His melodic laughter echoed. He must've been hoping I would say something without realizing he could hear. I clicked my tongue in disapproval.

"You're more devious than I thought you'd be," I commented.