Page 62 of The Souls We Claim

Now I seem to go for a fucking smile and gray eyes. And braids that fall over each shoulder. During the past two days, I’d catch sight of her occasionally. Out in the yard talking to Iris.

Twice, I had to bite down fantasies of what it would feel like if this were our life.

“Hey,” Ari says when she reaches me. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes wary.

Penny and a couple of the other club girls are bitching about her. I can see the way they look her up and down and then whisper amongst themselves before chuckling.

Normally, I tune out their petty behavior, but it irritates me because they’re aiming that shit at Ari.

I take her helmet out of her hand and pull it over her head, then fasten the strap beneath her chin. I run my finger beneath the strap and check it’s not too tight.

“I don’t need to do this,” Ari says quietly. “I don’t want to ruin your day. I’ll be fine here with Lola. Or maybe I could go back to your house.”

I sigh and rub my palms on my thighs, the denim worn and soft. “Ari. Fuck.” I take a deep breath. “Don’t make yourself small because I’m being a dick. Get on my bike.”

Words I never thought I’d utter.

“Are you sure?”

I raise my eyebrow at her. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”

She bites her lower lip, and it takes everything I have to not rub my thumb over it.

Ari puts her hand on my shoulder and kicks one leg over the bike. King and Rae come out of the clubhouse, the last to climbon his bike. He runs his hand along the bottom rocker of her cut that has his name on it.

I don’t normally pay much attention to it, but it must be a pretty powerful feeling to know your woman wears your name. In his own way, King wears Rae in the form of a Shakespeare quote tattooed over his heart.

Ari’s thighs press up against mine, but she then starts looking over each side of the bike.

“You okay?” I ask, looking over my shoulder.

“Where do I put my feet?”

I lift her calf and put her foot on the passenger floorboard, then repeat for the other side even as I bite down on the burst of pride that I’ll be her first ride. “Hold on tight around my waist. Once we’re going, we’ll be in formation, and I won’t be able to stop. But if you squeeze me four times in a row, I’ll know you need me to stop at the next convenient spot. Lean when I lean. Don’t fight it.”

“Okay. I trust you to not wreck and kill me.”

I rub her calf, squeezing the muscles occasionally. “Haven’t come off my bike in a really long time. I like my limbs and skin exactly where they are too. You ready?”

She wraps her arms tightly around me, and I try not to acknowledge how good it feels.

The drive to Turtle Beach is beautiful. Two hours of open road, beautiful sunshine, and the heady experience of Ari on the back of my bike.

She squeals when I open the throttle, when we start to feel the rush of air. Her movements are awkward at first, until she finds her center of gravity, and then we move like one.

Spark once told me about the first time he took Iris out on his bike. He spoke like it was this major moment in his life. Now I have a sense of what he meant.

When we pull up at the riverside beach, the only one this side of the Delaware River, I’m sad it’s over.

Ari kicks her leg over the bike and is off it before I finish parking up. “That was so much fun, Halo. Thank you,” she says, trying to undo the strap of her helmet.

I notice she doesn’t call me Jax like she did when we were in bed together. I’m not sure I like it.

I bat her hand away, undo her strap, and then remove the helmet.

“Glad to give you your first ride,” I say.

“I hope in this instance, you’ll break your one-ride rule and give me a second one home.”