Page 87 of I Don't Need Your Romance

He sighs heavily like I’m ruining his life. That makes me laugh, which makes him laugh, too. I don’t hear or see him laugh often and can’t help but stare at him. His entire face changes. It softens and fills with a light I’ve never seen on him. And it causes a humongous butterfly to land in my stomach.

“What?” he asks.

I blink and shake my head. “What?”

“You’re kind of staring at me.”

“No I’m not. I’m staring at the fly that landed on your head.”

“It’s winter,” he points out. “Not a lot of flies around.”

“Well maybe this one is a rebel like you.”

He laughs softly. “Touché.”

He suddenly moves closer and wraps his arm around my waist. My body fills with heat and my heart pounds like a hammer as he slides me closer to him. “You were too far back,” he murmurs, his breath warm on my face.

“Oh…thanks.”

He turns his body forward and says, “Remember to hold on tight. Squeeze tight. Don’t worry about hurting me.”

“I doubt I could hurt you with all those muscles,” I mutter.

“Don’t risk it.”

My heart is still pumping my blood way too wildly as I close my arms around his waist. He feels just as muscular as he did the last time, and his body is just as warm. Well, maybe slightly colder because the weather is colder and the stubborn mule refuses to wear a warmer jacket. I guess my body will help keep him warm. My cheeks burn up at that thought.

“Am I squeezing you hard enough, Mr. Non Bad Boy?”

“You could squeeze tighter.”

I hold on as tightly as I can. When Damian feels it’s good enough, he starts the engine and we’re off. Like the last time, it’s such a rush to zip down the streets with the wind blowing through my hair and the trees and buildings whizzing by. It’s not as scary as the first time and I enjoy myself more. Although, the thought that is basically running rampant through my mind is how good it feels to have his warm body near mine.

After a short while, Damian slows down before a store that sells motorcycle helmets. For some reason, I can’t bring myself to unlatch my arms from around his middle. It’s like they refuse to let go of him.

But I force them away and immediately feel colder. Damian shivers, which makes me wonder if my body indeed helped keep him warm.

He gets off the bike and helps me off of it. Then he tucks his helmet under his arm and makes his way into the store, with me following behind. I’ve never been to this kind of store before. The guy behind the counter has tattoos all over his body and a lot of piercings. He takes one look at me and makes a face like I wandered into the wrong store.

“How may I help you?” he asks Damian.

“She needs a helmet.” Damian gestures to me.

His eyes move between us, like he finds us a weird pairing. Hasn’t he ever read a romance book or watched a romance movie? The rebel with a motorcycle and the good girl is one ofthe most famous romance tropes. Not that Damian and I are together or anything.

Wait, does he think we’re together?

The man nods his head to a section in the store. “Helmets are over there. Got a lot of varieties to choose from.”

“Thanks,” Damian says before he and I make our way toward that section.

Wow, the dude wasn’t kidding. There really is a huge selection of helmets here.

“You pick,” Damian offers.

“Are you sure?” I mean, it’s not like I’m going to keep it. He’ll most likely let his future girlfriend wear it.

Future girlfriend. Why does my stomach tighten at the thought of another girl riding behind him on his bike?