Page 13 of One Killer Night

“I’m in touch with my feminine side.”

I don’t know what comes over me, but I blurt out my next words as I run a hand through my hair. “Do you want to get out of here?”

She smiles. I keep going.

“Maybe go somewhere we can hear each other better? I wanna know you ...”

She’s shaking her head before answering, but when she does, I’m toast.

“Are we walking or driving?”

Chapter Three

Goldie

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I almost laugh to myself over the unpredictability of tonight. But instead, I shift my head to the side, resting it on the broadness of Noah’s shoulder as I tighten my arms around his waist and watch the world whip by.

I’ve never been on the back of a motorcycle, let alone had a spontaneous first date like this, but I swear there’s just something about this night that screamsDo it for the plot.

Although, I did manage to keep some of my marbles and introduced Noah to Evie before we left. That way, if I go missing, she can give an accurate sketch to the police. Especially since I’m positive she paid attention when they met.

“So, you’re the aisle nine hottie. Nice.”

My eyes grow wide as I glare at her. She doesn’t care, mouthing “He’s hot” as she stands like a cartoon villain, stroking Uncle Fester’s head.

“Noah,” he offers coolly.

“Evie,” she replies just as the light bulb flickers from Fester’s mouth.

“And it was aisle twelve ...” Noah shoots back playfully, but then he furrows his brow. “Don’t do me dirty, Wednesday. Should I be worried? Does she do this often?”

“Yes, she does. Tons,” Evie dramatizes. “A real convenience store black widow, that one. Be careful, you might not wake up in the morning. Before you, there was an elderly couple she tried to scare to death.”

I gently tug his arm, desperate to end my embarrassment, but he stays in place and looks down at me with a shrug and a wink.

“Eh, I’ll take my chances.”

I sigh and finally interrupt.

“Okay, bye. That’s all you get. We’re leaving now.”

Evie kisses my cheek before Noah pats Fester’s head and chuckles again. “Really great work” is all he gets out before I drag him away.

The feel of Noah’s hand covering mine pulls me from the fresh memory, making me smile again for the thousandth time. He’s been doing that the whole ride—all ten minutes of it—checking in to make sure I’m okay.

And as much as it’s reassuring and thoughtful, it also makes me feel like the blush on my cheeks may stay crimson even after we stop the ride.

The moment we made it out of the party, it was like we were both infused and bubbling with flirtatious, excited energy. We tripped over our words as we tried to figure out what to do and where to go, then orbited each other, so close we even almost stumbled as he tried to pull out his spare helmet for me to wear.

It was cute. He was cute. Heiscute.

Jesus, I just met this guy a few hours ago, and all I want to do is hang out with him all night. Which is so weird and extremely unlike me. I’m not a risk taker—that’s my sister, which means nothing, considering I’m adopted, so it’s not like the trait skipped a generation.

If anything, I guess maybe a little bit of her bravery’s been nurtured into me because the moment he started walking away in that store, I felt compelled to ... I don’t know ... I guess I just totally get those nineties movies likeBefore Sunrise, where two strangers meet and connect in some kind of bizarre chemical way and have to hang out.

He feels like someone I shouldn’t miss out on.

So now, I’m on the back of his bike, rolling into somewhere unknown with goofy enthusiasm plastered on my face, secretly wishing I could explore his abs by accident and definitely on purpose without getting caught because holding on to him, forced to take in his delicious cologne, is the sweetest torture.