68

I wrapped my good hand into his leather jacket and let my hurt wrist fall between his legs. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths of the wind as it swirled around our bodies. It felt like I was inches away from the asphalt as he careened out of the parking lot. It felt like we were breaking the sound barrier as we sped off into the distance. Even with my eyes closed, I knew where we were headed. I had the turns and directions memorized.

And when the stench of my neighborhood wafted under my nose, I felt my stomach clench.

I sighed as Clint pulled into my driveway. He put his kickstand down and turned off his engine, but he didn’t move. I rested against the breadth of his strong back. I felt tired. Anxious. And yet, happy.

Happy to be against him again.

“Why are you such an idiot?” I whispered.

Clint cleared his throat. “Your mom home?”

I shook my head. “She’s out putting in job applications.”

“Good for her. Let’s get you inside, then.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“I’m sure as hell not le