Page 69 of Damaged Boys Don't Fall For Bubbly Girls

She smiles. “Morning, sweetie.”

I nod at the TV. “Searching for new recipes?”

“I think this particular recipe is beyond my capabilities.” She scans my outfit. “You look nice. Are you going out?”

I do a perfect pirouette to emphasize how this beautiful dress flows around me. “Yeah. Brock and I are going to the science museum.”

“That sounds like fun. You kids used to do that all the time.”

“I know. It was his idea. I love that we’re going back to how things were, like nothing changed. Even though a lot has.”

She nods slowly. “I’m very glad you guys are in a good place. Do you kids need a lift?”

“No,” I tell her as I grab some cereal and milk. “He’s picking me up.”

“On his bike?”

I stop pouring cereal and turn to her. “Is that a problem?”

She shakes her head. “No, I trust him. I just want you to be careful, that’s all.”

“Brock is very careful. He’d never let anything happen to me.”

“Yes, I know. He’s a good kid.”

I smile. “He is.”

We talk about different things as I eat my cereal. After cleaning up after myself, I say bye to Mom and go outside to sit on the steps and wait for Brock.

I can’t sit straight because I’m so excited. Brock and I spending hours at my favorite museum, just the two of us. It’ll beawesome.

The familiar sound of his bike roars in the distance. I leap to my feet, rushing down the stairs as he pulls up before my house. Lifting his visor, his eyes smile at me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I walk over to him. “Not going to lie—I’m dying to get back on your bike.”

He laughs. “Really? Guess it was worth suffering all those late nights getting good grades just so you can ride my bike with me.”

I playfully narrow my eyes at him. “Suuure, you did it for me. I seem to remember a much younger version of Brock Hastings bragging about the bike he was going to get one day.”

He chuckles again. “Yeah, but at least we can both enjoy it now. Climb on behind me when you’re ready.”

I point at my hair. “I should probably bind this or it’ll fly all over the place.” I gather my curls into a high ponytail and clasp it with a hair tie. “Okay. I’m ready.”

I step up to the bike and, using his shoulder for balance, swing my leg over the bike. Once I’m securely on, I wrap my arms around his waist, once again feeling his hard muscles.

“Remember to hold on tight,” he says.

I squeeze him tighter.

He’s about to kick into gear, but pauses. “We have to make a stop at the mall and get you a helmet.”

“Okay.”

After he makes sure I’m holding onto him properly, we zoom off. Woohoo! This is just as much fun as the last time. Maybe more because I make sure to soak in every second of it.

We reach the mall quickly, he parks in the lot, then we head inside. We don’t spend a lot of time in the sporting goods store because we want to squeeze in as much time in the museum as we can. Once I choose a helmet in the color of the ocean, we exit the mall.

I place the helmet on my head, fidgeting with the strap that isn’t clasping shut. “Ugh. What am I doing wrong?”