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“If you fuck her on it, clean up your mess,” he said.
“If I fuck her on it, she’ll clean up the mess.”
“And make sure she doesn’t drag her feet all over my fuckin’ bags,” he shouted as I walked away.
When I stepped to her side, she was still gazing out at the street.
“You alright?” I asked.
She turned around. “Yeah, why?”
“Just making sure.”
“I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“Learning to ride.”
“You want a bike?”
She grinned and nodded. “Yep.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“You’ve never ridden before?”
“Nope.”
“California’s not a great place to learn. Traffic’s a bitch.”
“Corbet’s Couloir in Jackson Hole, Wyoming is the most dangerous ski slope in the world. That’s where I learned to snowboard. I surf at Black’s Beach. There, you either ride the wave or eat a rock cliff. I don’t do anything the easy way,” she said.
“You’ll probably love it,” I said with a nod. “Hop off.”
“Why?”
“We’re not taking my bike.” I motioned to Pee Bee’s bike. “We’re taking that.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “It’ll be more comfortable for you. It’s got air ride suspension, a CD player, and a gel-filled passenger seat. Hell, it’s like riding a marshmallow down the highway.”
“Not interested.” She slapped the palm of her hand against the side of my gas tank. “I wanna ride on this.”
I narrowed my eyes and fought the urge to smile. “Why?”
“Because this is a real bike,” she said.
I exhaled, nodded, and walked back into the shop.
I tossed Pee Bee his keys. “Here.”
“Not taking it?”
“She didn’t want to ride on it.”
