Dangerous Play

23 » thrills and spills

"You have lost your goddamn mind if you think I'm getting on that bike with you."

Kieran smirked at me. "¿Tienes miedo?"

That was one of the few Spanish phrases I knew, but even if I hadn't, the mocking tone in his voice would've given the question away. "I am not scared, I just value my life. Have you ever considered that?"

A warm breeze rustled the leaves of the trees in my yard. Kieran and I were standing on the driveway of my house, where his Ducati death machine was parked. It was a gorgeous, sleek motorcycle, but to me it just screamed danger and the possible loss of a limb or two.

"I'll drive at a reasonable speed," he promised. "I won't let anything happen to you."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Define 'reasonable.'"

"The opposite of what you're being right now."

"Very funny, Kieran. But it's not happening."

He raised one challenging eyebrow. "Are you sure? I bet I can get you on this motorcycle, and that you'll ask to ride again."

I snorted. "I will gladly take that bet. So what's the prize? Because you've already lost."

"Loser has to do whatever the winner wants, for a full day."

"You sure you want to give me that much power? I could do a lot of damage to your precious reputation in that time."

Kieran laughed. The setting sun lent a golden hue to his skin as he tilted his head, putting the dimple in his cheek on full display. "That's a risk I'm willing to take, because you aren't going to win."

"I don't see how that's possible, because I'm not doing this."

He gave me a sly grin. "You know who else was scared to ride the bike?"

I had a nasty feeling I knew where this question was headed. "You better not say what I think you're about to say."

"Marissa," he said, ignoring my warning. "She claimed she wasn't scared, but deep down, she was just a chicken. Maybe you two are more alike than you think."

My jaw dropped. I marched across the concrete and stopped right in front of him, a deadly glare on my face. "Don't ever say that again."

"Then prove me wrong."

He did not just go there. "You know what? Fuck you." I strolled over to his bike and grabbed one of the helmets sitting on the seat. "That was a low blow."

Kieran grinned in triumph and put the other helmet on. He swung one long leg over the machine, straddling the leather seat. I swatted away the hand he offered me and climbed on by myself, gingerly settling in behind him.

I hadn't anticipated how close I would have to sit to him to stay on the bike. There were footrests, where I propped my sneaker-clad feet, but if I wanted to avoid falling off the bike, I basically had to have my arms wrapped around Kieran the entire time.

He turned the key in the ignition, bringing the motorcycle to life with a low thrum. "Are you ready?"

"No, dickhead, but you better go before I change my mind," I grumbled. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"You'll see." The bike lurched forward, and I tightened my grip around Kieran's torso.

"Kieran, I swear to God if you go a single mile above the speed limit—"

"Relax, Abby. I gave you my word, didn't I? Te prometí." He eased the bike down the residential street of my neighborhood. Soon enough, we turned out of the area and onto a regular road. True to his word, Kieran meandered through traffic, in no rush to get to wherever it was we were going.