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I step forward and give him another hug, just something to try and mend things between us, but the tension wound through him doesn’t budge.
“I’ll be fine.”
Michael searches my face for a moment too long and for some reason, I feel sick. Uncomfortable.
I’ve never been uncomfortable around Michael. He’s been my rock for fifteen years.
So, why do I now?
I pull away, backing up until I almost run into Mason and Michael gives me one lingering look before he heads toward the door with a shake of his head.
“I’ll be back to check on you.”
And then he’s gone.
Mason doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. He doesn’t like Michael. Michael doesn’t like him.
Somehow, I’m still the one caught in the middle.
Mason
“You wantme.To get onthere.”
It’s not a question.
“Scared, little doe?”
Hannah looks distraught.
“No,” she lies, swallowing past a lump in her throat. “I just don’t like the thought of my head hitting the sweltering pavement.”
“Sounds like an excuse.”
Pretty green eyes narrow on me and she takes that as a challenge. It’s almost too easy at this point. Determination flashes through her gaze and she steps up beside the bike.
“It’s just a motorcycle, Hannah. I ride it every day.”
She stares at the back seat and I know she’s trying to determine a way to get on without touching me.
Funnily enough, it’s the same reason I decided to drive it. Because she’d have to.
“I don’t know how to get on.” Her voice is small, as if admitting defeat doesn’t come easy.
“Place your hand on my shoulder and your foot on the peg, there.”
Begrudgingly, she does as I tell her, her cheeks flaming as she climbs up on the back. I’ve had a passenger before, that’s not the problem. The problem stems from having my little obsession on the back.
And now my dick’s painfully hard.
“Put this on.” I hand her a helmet. I don’t always wear one, but Hannah will if she’s going to be on the back of my bike.
“How many heads have been in this helmet?” she grumbles, wincing when she slips it over her hair.
“None,” I murmur, cranking the engine and she pauses. “I bought it today.”
“You . . . bought me a helmet?”
Jesus Christ.
