POV Ajax
The crowd parted as I strode toward her, helmet tucked under my arm, victory still singing in my veins. Bella stood frozen, Camila's hand on her elbow like she might bolt.
"Want a ride, starlight?" The challenge rolled off my tongue as I gestured to my Ducati.
Camila's grip tightened. "Bella, no—"
"Yes." The single word from her mouth cut through the night air, sharp and defiant.
"What?" Camila and I spoke in unison.
"I said yes."
"You don't ride motorcycles." The protest came out rougher than intended.
I didn’t expect her to actually agree to my invite.
"Who said I don’t? I grew up with money too. I’ve ridden better machines than this, and a Ducati will do just fine. Maybe I’m tired of doing what’s expected."
She moved toward my bike, chin raised in that familiar gesture of stubborn pride.
"Unless you're scared I'll slow you down?" Bella challenged me back with one eyebrow raised.
"Get on."
She swung her leg over the seat with surprising grace, her tennis skirt riding up dangerously high. The crowd whistled, and Jake shouted something crude while Laila shrieked my name from somewhere behind us.
I ignored them all, mounting the bike in one fluid motion.
“Put this on.” I gave her my helmet, the one I never let anyone else touch, as I turned to her.
“What about you?” she asked, her voice soft with surprise.
“I’ll be fine.” I reached over, settling the helmet over her silky hair.
My fingers brushed her cheek as I fastened the strap under her chin, the simple touch sending heat racing through my veins.
“Can’t have anything happening to that pretty face.”
“Oh, shut up…” she mumbled irritably through the helmet.
Though I can see a small piece of reddened skin on her cheeks behind the face shield still up. The reluctant brat she is.
The helmet was too big for her, making her look younger somehow, more vulnerable. The sight of it itself made something possessive and protective clawed at my chest.
"Arms around my waist. Tight."
Her hands tentatively touched my sides as if scared to accidentally touch my skin, as if it might burn her down.
"Tighter, starlight." I revved the engine. "Unless you want to fall off at ninety miles per hour."
Her arms wrapped fully around me, her body pressing against my back. The contact shot electricity through every nerve ending, especially with her hot breathing against the back of my neck.
"Don't let go," I commanded, then gunned it.
We exploded from the lot, tires screaming against the pavement. Bella's grip turned crushing, her head buried between my shoulder blades. The city blurred into streaks of neon and shadow as we flew through empty streets.
Twenty minutes of pure speed. Twenty minutes of her heartbeat against my spine, her thighs pressed against mine, her hair falling under the helmet whipping in the wind.
The bet, Jake, Laila—everything evaporated in the roar of the engine and the heat of her body.
I pulled onto an overlook, the city spreading beneath us like scattered diamonds. The engine ticked as it cooled. Neither of us moved.
"You can let go now." My voice came out hoarse.
"I know." But her arms stayed locked around me. Finally, she dismounted, legs visibly shaking as she pulled off the helmet. "That was..."
"Terrifying?"
"Incredible." Her eyes blazed with leftover adrenaline. "I felt alive."
"Most people can't handle it." I swung off the bike, studying her flushed face. "The speed. The danger."
"I'm not most people."
"No." The admission escaped before I could stop it. "You're not."
We stood at the edge of the overlook, the city lights painting her skin gold.
"What's your plan?" I asked suddenly. "After graduation. After all this ends."
"Travel." The word carried unexpected weight. "See everything. Experience everything. While I can."
"While you can?"
Her smile turned sad. "While I'm young. Free. You know."
"Where first?"
"Tokyo. Then Bangkok. Mumbai. Cairo." Her voice gained strength with each destination. "I want to eat street food in Vietnam and dance in underground clubs in Berlin and watch the sunrise from Machu Picchu."
"You should." The words scraped out of me. "Life's too short not to chase what you want."
She flinched like I'd struck her. "You really believe that?"
"I race illegal bikes at a hundred fifty miles per hour. What do you think?"
"I think you have a death wish."
"Maybe." I turned to face her fully. "Or maybe I just know that playing it safe is another kind of dying."
Her breath suddenly caught at this. For a moment, the mask slipped completely, revealing something raw and desperate underneath.
"I forgot you used to be fun," I said quietly.
"I forgot you used to be actually sweet." Her hand lifted toward my face, then dropped. "Before the gala. Before everything went wrong."
"Bella—"
Her phone erupted with notifications. The screen lit up with a text preview from her Mother. I sneak peeked the message: "Did you take your evening medications? The schedule is critical, sweetheart."
“Medication?” I found myself asking before I can caught myself.
"Anxiety meds," she said quickly, shoving the phone away. "For academy stress."
"Bullshit."
"It's not—"
"You're lying." I stepped closer. "Just like you're lying about that week of disappearance. The pills you're always taking."
"Drop it, Ajax."
"Make me."
The challenge hung between us, electric and dangerous.
"Okay. That’s enough for tonight." She moved toward the bike. "Take me home now."
The ride to the Sinclair estate passed in tense silence. She held on just tight enough to stay secure, no more. When we reached the gates, she dismounted immediately, shoving the helmet to me and putting distance between us. I killed the engine and dismounted too.
"Thanks for the ride." Her tone had returned to ice princess perfection.
"Bella." I caught her wrist, pulling her back. "Stop running."
"I'm not—"
"Yes, you are." My other hand cupped the back of her neck, thumb tracing her hammering pulse point. "You've been running since that night in the rehearsal hall."
"Ajax, please…"
"Please what?" I backed her against the stone pillar of the gate, one hand still on her neck while the other on the stone near her head, caging her. "Please leave you alone? Please stop making you feel things you don't want to feel? Please finally kiss you?"
"I don't know!" The words exploded from her. "I don't know what I want!"
"Liar."
And with that I kissed her.
Soft at first, giving her room to pull away. She didn't. Her hands fisted in my shirt, dragging me closer. The kiss turned desperate, hungry, years of suppressed want pouring out in a clash of tongues and teeth.
She tasted like rebellion and regret. Like the sweetest thing in the world and deadly sin all at once. Like everything I shouldn't want but couldn't stop craving.
"Ajax…" she gasped against my mouth.
I was ready to devour her whole this time, but then—
"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my sister?"