CHAPTER 5

"Come on. We need to hurry. I'm parked at least a block from here." Derek released my wrist to pull out his keys. He didn't spare me a glance before briskly making his way up the darkest part of the road. "We need to stay in the shadows so that lady won't see us."

I followed him closely and kept an eye out for her. Every car had someone sitting in the driver's seat, but it was too dark to see anything else. And truthfully, I didn't want to see anything at all. I'd seen enough as it was.

Derek glanced back to make sure I was still with him. When his eyes met mine for a millisecond, the corner of his mouth tipped up. "Just a little further."

"Okay," I whispered.

Hollering lady wasn't making a sound. Maybe she went back to her car after that confrontation.

"This is me." He led me to a dark motorcycle with reflective stripes and inserted his key.

My eyes bulged. There was no frigging way I was getting on that deathtrap. "A motorcycle? Do you have a death wish or something? I know I definitely don't feel like being scraped off the road tonight."

"It's not like you have much of a choice." Derek's eyes met mine as he smiled.

Well, he had a point. We really didn't have any other options, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

My eyebrows drew together as he lifted a helmet hanging from the handlebars.

"You only have one helmet?" I whisper yelled. There was no way I was getting on his death bike without a helmet. No frigging way.

Derek laughed and shook his head. He retrieved a spare helmet from a small compartment I hadn't realized was there. "Here. Put this on."

"Fine," I muttered. I guess this was really happening. The one thing I swore I would never do.

Yanking the helmet from his grip, I adjusted my ponytail to make room. By the time Derek was ready to mount the bike, my fingers were lost in a sad, sad mess. In my defense the helmet was on correctly, I think. I was just having a hard time figuring out how to tighten the stupid straps.

"Got that?" His voice was deeper with his helmet on.

"No," I snapped. "I can't see what I'm doing."

"Here, let me help." His hands reached up and nearly touched my face.

I took a step back. "I can do it."

He cocked his head to the side, and his eyelids softened. "No reason to be scared. I won't bite."

"My cheek hurts. I just don't want you to touch it by accident." I hated having to state the obvious, but he needed to know.

Derek did his best to hold back a smile, but I still caught it. "I won't."

"Don't laugh at me. It's not funny." My fingers still weren't doing the job and ended up in a weird Chinese torture strap trap. I yanked my hands until my fingers came free. "Ugh. Okay. Just do it for me, please?"

He grinned as he gestured for me to look up so he could work on the straps. "I'm not laughing at what that old lady did to you. I was laughing at how upset you are right now over my bike. You seemed so tough earlier."

"Me? I'm not tough. I just don't want my Dad doing something idiotic because he's not in his right mind." I did my best not to study the way Derek bit the corner of his lip while he worked to fix the mess I'd made. "How bad is your mom?"

"Truth?" His fingers lightly grazed my chin.

What was that supposed to mean? "Yeah?"

When Derek's eyes met mine, I could feel his pain. "She's not much better than your mother."

What if this was a virus? I mean, how could so many people have the same infection? "Do you think the antibiotics will work?"

He tugged my chin slightly to the right, pulled the strap taut, and let go. His eyes drained of all pain and went stoically cold as he studied me. "Truth?"

"No. I want you to lie to me. Yes, truth!" What the hell was up with this guy?

Derek searched my face like he was trying to figure out what the truth was, but instead of answering me, he turned away and mounted his bike.

Did he just ignore me? What a jerk.

In one fluid movement, Derek brought the motor roaring to life. I jumped at the sound. It was so frigging loud. He gestured for me to climb on as he gave it gas.

My legs were shaking worse than ever as I mounted the bike. I know Derek noticed. How could he not? I was basically asking to die by getting on this thing.

Didn't he know this was the stupidest way to go from point A to point B? And it was night for God's sake.

I could barely see anything. How was he going to steer this hunk of metal in the dark without killing us? Cars were so much better. They had the amazing perk of metal armor for protection and they had the wonderful invention of seatbelts.

Even though I was scared to death, I did my best to get into a comfortable position. That's if you consider comfortable to be my entire frontside plastered to Derek's backside, but come on there was no space on this thing.

For the first time, I was glad I didn't have a boyfriend anymore because Matt would've killed me if he knew I was this close to another guy. I would've understood because this was something way too intimate to be doing with a dude I just met.

That's when Dad's convoy passed us. When he saw me on the back of Derek's motorcycle, Dad's pinched lips and narrowed brow told the tale. If this situation were any different, Dad would've ripped me off this bike and told Derek to stay far away from me.

I'm sure Dad was already doing breathing exercises, and trying to stop himself from turning around. Once upon a time, back when my parents met, Dad used to ride motorcycles, but that all changed when his younger brother, Sam, got into a horrible accident.

I had to hand it to Derek. His limitless patience was comforting as I fumbled around, trying to figure out what to do with my limbs. He directed me on where to put my feet. After my feet were good to go, he grabbed my knees and squeezed them tight to the seat and him. That was all well and good, but I couldn't figure out where I was supposed to put my hands.

I noticed a small metal bar sticking out the tail end and leaned back, grasping it with all my might. This was stupid. No wonder motorcyclists died so often. I was utterly exposed and would probably fall off during our first turn.

Derek looked back at me. He shook his head, laughing so hard his eyes lit up. When he spoke, I couldn't make out anything he'd said.

"What?" I yelled.

He turned his head more to the side and repeated himself. My lip reading skills sucked because all I could make out was, "you" and "me", which made no sense. When I shook my head in confusion, Derek grabbed one of my arms and wiggled until I released my death hold on the bar.

Unable to hear what he wanted, I did precisely what he gestured for me to do. I mean, I'd taken long enough already. We had to get a move on. This was a time sensitive mission, and I was failing badly right now.

Derek wrapped my arms around him one by one and pulled me tight to him. When I was molded to him, he brushed a warm hand over mine and squeezed before ripping us around in a hard U-turn.

As we took off, the cold Fall air whipped violently around us. Hunkering down behind Derek, I hugged him harder. I knew I looked ridiculous holding on to him for dear life, but damn, give a girl a break. I was scared, okay? I completely understood why his helmet was so big. He needed a total head enclosure to drive this thing safely.

Derek chose to take the back roads. Since I'd never been on a motorcycle before I just mimicked every move he made. If he bent right, I bent right. If he bent left, I bent left. I really didn't know what else I was supposed to do.

When we were finally riding in the darkness of a long empty road, I could finally breathe. My hold on Derek had become so tight, I wondered if I was hurting him. The thought of causing him pain made me loosen my arms. His hand was suddenly clenching my arm, telling me he was okay with my suffocating hold. His palm slid over the back of my hands, and he slowly lifted his jacket to cover them. I didn't realize how cold my hands were until they were against the warmth of his body, pressing against his shirt.

I sighed in appreciation. I'm not sure how this stranger could make me feel so safe and protected, but he was doing it right now. I opened my palms to press them flat against his stomach, which was hard and muscular. Oh yeah, he definitely was hiding a six-pack under there.

A few minutes later, Derek turned down a dirt road, which I soon realized was a driveway. We came to a stop in front of a double-wide trailer. It wasn't run down, and there was plenty of space to park on a patch of dirt over to the side.

When he shut off the motor and let his feet balance us, Derek chuckled. "You good back there?"

I didn't know what to say. I mean, I was still plastered to his backside and holding on like my life depended on it. My muscles were stuck in this position. And yeah, this was embarrassing.

"Casey?" His stomach tensed under my fingers. "Are you okay?"

The tensing of his muscles brought me back to life. "Yeah. Uh... I might need help?"

"Okay? Tell me what to do." He said.

"Uh... I don't know. I think I'm stuck." I said.

"Here." Derek lightly unwrapped my hands from his body. "Now just sit up."

I did what he said, and it worked. And, yeah, could this be any more embarrassing?

"Need help getting off?" He asked.

Appreciating the fact he wasn't laughing at me, I found my strength. "No. I think I can do it."

Wobbly and off balance, I was barely able to get off the bike. My body was overcome with fatigue as I stood holding my hips. I'd used a lot of energy during our ride and my legs were still shaky.

He watched me with concern. "Seriously. Are you okay?"

A awkward giggle came out of me, and then I started giggling harder. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm such a dork."

Derek gave me a half smile, but he didn't laugh at me. He extended the kickstand and easily slid off the bike. "You need help with the helmet?"

"Please?" I lifted my chin for him to undo the strap.

"I don't think you're a dork." His lips quirked up as he loosened the strap and took off my helmet. "I think you're pretty damn incredible."

My mouth went dry as he set my helmet on the bike.

I wanted to ask what he meant, but the screech of a screen door swinging open interrupted the moment.

A shirtless young guy with bed head held the door open. Like Derek, I figured he couldn't be more than twenty-one. A tattoo inked his muscular upper arm. His loose sweatpants hung low on his hips.

"Dude!" His southern accent was slight but noticeable. He smiled when he saw me. "I'm so glad you came to your senses and found my dream girl. You know how I love redheads."

Derek approached the stairs as the guy stepped out fully to fist bump Derek. And oh my holy mother hell, he was pure hotness with a capital H.