Page 58 of Gabriel
Immediately, I miss the contact, which surprises me, and not for the first time. I like when Gabriel touches me.
There aren’t many cars on this side of the parking lot, and I eye each of the ones I see curiously. None of them look like something Gabriel would drive. The first is a bright red convertible. Too flashy. The next is a minivan. Too domestic. And the last is a lifted truck with giant spinning rims. Whoever drives that clearly feels the need to compensate for something.
Call it a woman’s intuition, but I doubt Gabriel needs to compensate for anything. So, I’m surprised when he angles his head toward the obnoxious thing on wheels.
Seriously?
Seeing the look on my face, he rolls his eyes and leads me around the monstrosity. Hidden behind the douchebag truck is a sleek, black on black motorcycle.Damn.He drives that? I lick my lips. I can absolutely see him riding it.
Me, on the other hand, not so much. Which is why my eyes bug out of my head when he raises one of two full-face helmets from the seat and offers it to me. I accept it, but instead of putting it on, I hold it at my side.
“This is yours?” He has the whole hot athlete thing already going for him. Does he really need to take his hotness to extreme levels by driving a freaking crotch rocket, too?
His responding grin is full of mischief. “It is.” Taking the other helmet, he places it on his head, quickly securing the buckle beneath his chin. Meanwhile, I’m left staring at him like a moron.
Pushing up the visor on his helmet so I can see his honey-gold gaze, he asks, “Need some help?”
Swallowing hard, I hold out the helmet and shake my head. Nope. Just no. Getting on the back of that, with him, is a bad idea. “I’ll follow you in my Jeep,” I tell him.
“Why? This is much more fun.” He winks, and even with his helmet covering most of his face, it’s devastating.
“If you have a death wish.” The helmet is heavy, so I let my arm fall back to my side.
“Is that really something you’re worried about?” Gabriel asks, quirking a brow.
Ha. Ha. Point made. Swallowing down my apprehension, I give the bike one last long, considering look and take a deep breath. I can do this. It will be… fun.
I tug on the helmet and without me needing to ask, Gabriel reaches out, his nimble fingers making quick work of the loops and buckle beneath my chin. I ignore the way butterflies dance in my stomach when his fingertips brush my skin, keeping my gaze focused anywhere but on him. Why him? Why do I have to be attracted to him? I still don’t understand it.
“There,” he tells me, tapping my helmet. “All set.” Picking up my backpack, he helps me slip my arms into the straps before securing his own bag to his chest, wearing it backwards. “Come on.” Waving me forward, he gets onto the bike, slips in the key, and cranks the ignition.
It roars to life, drowning out the noise from the road. Gabriel pats the seat behind him and I eye it with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.Here goes nothing.Throwing my leg over, I settle myself behind him and wrap my arms around his narrow waist. The vibrations from the bike thrum through me and I squirm on the seat.
Gabriel gives me a moment to get adjusted before he kicks up the stand and guides us out of the parking lot.
We move slowly at first, weaving through the parking lot as we make our way out onto the main road. My body moves with his, tilting side to side as he takes tight corners and gradually increases our speed. I press myself firmer to his back, using his bulk to block out the wind while also hanging onto him for dear life. Being on the back of a motorcycle is… exhilarating. I’m not sure how else to describe it.
It’s like being on a roller coaster as you crest the top of the peak and plummet down the ramp, only the drop never stops.
Gabriel reaches one hand back, grasping me right above my knee as we speed down the highway—definitely going faster than the posted speed limit. At first, I think he does it to comfort me, making sure I’m okay with how fast we’re going. But he keeps his hand there for the remainder of the ride, only ever releasing meto shift gears or take a particularly sharp corner before returning his hand to my knee, like he can’t not touch me.
It’s only ten minutes later when we come to a stop in the driveway of a modest two-story house. Parking beside two other motorcycles, one a burnt orange and the other a deep indigo blue, Gabriel kills the engine and helps me off the bike. We leave our helmets on the seat and he takes my hand, leading me not to the front door but to a side gate.
“Who lives here?” I follow Gabriel into the backyard, but hesitate when I hear loud male voices coming from the back.
Gabriel pauses beside me. “I do,” he tells me. “Felix, Julio, and I rent the place along with two other players from the team.”
At the mention of other players, I visibly stiffen before Gabriel adds, “But it’s just Felix and Julio chilling with us today. Hunt won’t be here for another few weeks. He’ll be a late transfer from Suncrest U. We offered him a room since we strong armed him into the move, but he’s a good guy. You’ll like him.” I’ll have to take his word for it, but the idea of being around anyone who isn’t Gabriel makes my skin crawl. “Hunt’s got a few more hoops to jump through before making things official, but he’ll be around on weekends as he gets his stuff moved over.”
I nod because that seems like the appropriate thing to do. “Who’s your other roommate?”
“Atticus Bennett.”
I relax, unfamiliar with the name, and when Gabriel starts walking again, I follow.
“He’s a fraternity reject.”
I come to a hard stop. “A what?”
