Page 79 of Hurt

He hadn’t anticipated having to actually get that close to him. Riding on the motorcycle meant sitting directly behind Grant, even touching him. His lungs felt like they couldn’t expand, and his mouth was suddenly dry. Staring at the leather seat, he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Heart hammering so loud he was sure Grant could hear it. He felt like his feet were glued to the ground.

Grant watched him with cool eyes. There was no pressure in them, nothing but endless patience. No disgust or pity. That looked reminded Kurt of the highway cutting through the desert—unending and predictable. Something he could anticipate. Something he could rely on.

His lungs expanded, and he could breathe again. Leaning into that feeling—something he suspected might trust if Kurt knew what that felt like—he swung his right leg over and eased himself into the seat.

It was surprisingly comfortable. Grant was lean, but in front of him, his back seemed broad and solid.

Looking over his shoulder, Grant watched him. “If you’re not comfortable holding onto me, you can grab my jacket.”

Kurt nodded as he looked at the loose fit of the denim jacket. Swallowing, he grabbed the stiff fabric between two fingers.

Grant rocked the bike upright, and the machine roared to life. Kurt started as the engine cranked. It was so much louder than he thought, and it rattled under him. Legs tight, he inhaled sharply as Grant accelerated forward, spraying rocks behind him as he pulled out of the parking lot of The Sunspot.

The two wheels took to the dusty highway. Landscape Kurt knew like the back of his hand sped by in a blur, but all he could look at was the back of Grant’s neck. Wind pummeled his face—hot and stinging with the scent of rubber on asphalt mixed with gasoline. Vibrations from the engine traveled up through Kurt’s legs and into his chest. It loosened the tightness there, and he felt like he could breathe again.

Grant had a heavy hand. He sped down the road and hugged the curves with a gentle lean that was all at once terrifying and exhilarating. The bike was smooth and steady. Kurt found himself smiling. The noise of the engine and the wind hitting his face blocked out all his thoughts, and when he turned his head, he could see the undulations in the landscape racing along beside them.

Was this freedom? He wasn’t sure. But he knew that his mind was blank, and he felt light. So light that he might float up off the bike and be gone forever. Arms extended out to the sides. He leaned his head back and yelled.

Everything he had wanted to say for years came ripping out of his throat in an unintelligible mess, tossed into the warm wind and scattered out into the desert. He screamed until his throat was raw, and then he realized he wasn’t screaming from terror or anger.

He was hollering in joy.

The bike shuddered as it hit a dip in the road, and Kurt clenched Grant. Hugging him close, he laughed at himself and dropped his forehead to his broad back, supporting himself on the man. Small fits of bubbly laughter were still dripping from his windblown lips. Somewhere along the way, he had lost his hair tie, and shoulder-length hair was blowing behind him.

Leaning forward, he rested his chin on Grant’s shoulder so he could see the road in front of him. The wind was more intense without Grant’s body as a block, but the sight of the open highway cutting through the desert was beautiful.

He had never considered where he lived to be beautiful. He had never considered where he lived at all. There was a rugged beauty to the vastness of the desert. Off to the west, he could see the sun beginning its descent. It was late afternoon, but the small star didn’t look like it was in any hurry to dip below the flat horizon. Kurt could feel the warmth on his face. Rather than squinting against the bright rays, he watched how the light splayed across the scenery.

Shadows extended out behind rocks and cacti—mirror images that were distorted but still recognizable. He wondered if that’s how people saw him when they looked at him. Vaguely recognizable, but only a flat imitation. The same shape, lacking all the details.

Or maybe that’s just how he saw himself.

Still leaning against Grant, he could feel the rough denim from his jacket brushing against his cheek. Reaching out, he floated his hand on the current. Splaying his fingers out like a bird, he dipped and rose against the wind stream. He could remember doing the same thing on car rides when he was a kid. His hand would fly over trees and buildings like a video game while Willow made all the sound effects beside him.

For some reason, the memory didn’t make him sad. Rather, he found himself smiling as he recalled Willow’s ‘whooshes’ and ‘bams’ every time Kurt’s hand didn’t ascend over an obstacle fast enough.

“Grant!” Kurt called suddenly.

He couldn’t look back. His body stiffened.

“Go faster!”

Grant glanced back over his shoulder the moment he felt Kurt moving around. The sight almost knocked him right off the motorcycle.

Arms wide and head tossed back, he was laughing into the wind. With his chin raised and hair flying around his face, Kurt looked like some manic pixie dream boy in an Indie movie. Grant didn’t think he would ever be happier than seeing that.

Until Kurt got startled and wrapped his arms around him. Grant wanted to relish the moment until he jerked them away. He never did. Strong arms remained loosely locked around his waist, resting against his lap while Kurt’s weight against his back grew heavier and heavier as he leaned against him.

Grant wanted to grab his hands and pull him tighter, but he knew he couldn’t. Focusing on keeping the bike straight, it was all he could do not to grin like an idiot.

He didn’t have any plans when he got home and decided he needed to take a breather. His nerves had been shot, and there was so much tension in his neck he thought his head might explode. Pulling the motorcycle out of the garage was his usual solution. He had no destination in mind when he put wheels to the pavement.

While he drove on autopilot, he had been taken straight to The Sunspot. And then, like some sort of miracle, Kurt had appeared in front of him. He never thought he would accept the invitation to ride with him. When he balked, Grant didn’t feel disappointed. He was just excited Kurt had even considered it.

But then he climbed on, and it was the closest he had ever been to the man. At first, it was difficult to drive, knowing he was right there, knees bouncing against his hips with every slope in the asphalt.