Page 42 of Nothing But the Truth

The light turned green, and they shot off like a jet, zipping between cars. She leaned left and right with Adam, responding to his muscles tensing and shifting. The rumble of the bike vibrated up through her legs straight into the core of her like a high-voltage cable. All the while, she clung to his back like a limpet, feeling his breath expand his chest.

Forget sex in front of an office window. She’d take a motorcycle ride with a hot bartender who’d come to her rescue any day.

They made it to her office far too quickly. When Adam stopped at the curb, she’d nearly forgotten the impending doom awaiting her. Her legs shook for more than one reason when she climbed off the bike. In a hurry to get inside, she yanked off the helmet, her hair a lost cause, and whirled around to hand it to him. She caught a flash of his wind-rumpled hair and devastating smile in the second before she misjudged the curb and her rubber legs buckled.

“Whoa!” Adam twisted sideways, still sitting on his bike, and threw out his arms. Lucy fell into them as if she had been shoved. And as if an invisible force were putting a point on the scene, she landed with her lips against his.

They both sharply inhaled, stunned.

Because of the odd angle and the fact that Adam’s mouth felt like the breath of air she could never catch, Lucy stayed there, pressed up against him long enough for the accident to turn to intention.

With the thrill of the bike still coursing through her veins, the heat of his lips, and the feel of his big hands on her arms, she was suddenly quite sure she had wanted to kiss him ever since she met him, she just hadn’t realized it. She could taste the apple on his lips and smell something light and fresh on his skin. The revelatory moment felt profoundly perfect.

He was the one to pull back because gravity had Lucy pinned on top of him with no leverage. He gently pried her off and held her in place while she got her footing back. They stared at each other in a state of shyness and shock, smiles teasing their bitten lips.

“Sounds like you need to go,” he said, and nodded at her tote.

Her phone screamed for attention inside. It probably hadn’t stopped since they left the parking garage—she just hadn’t been able to hear it.

The urgency of her return to work crashed into their moment like a wrecking ball, and she tore herself away.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, and tossed his helmet at him. She removed the backpack and handed it over.

He resumed the devastating smile, cheeks flushed this time, and gave her a wave. “Good luck, Birthday Girl!”