I’d hesitated only a moment before taking the helmet he’d offered to me, then said a silent farewell to what was left of my waves as I pulled it on over my head.

“Feel secure?” Cary asked. “Nod your head.” I did and felt the helmet slide slightly forward. “This’ll help,” he said. He took a step closer to me, then paused. “May I?”

“Sure,” I said, enjoying my up-close view as he leaned forward and pulled the strap under my chin tighter. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and his eyelashes were so long they were practically casting shadows on his cheeks. I knew that there was enough going on tonight that I shouldn’t have been paying attention to things like how attractive this guy was, but… I mean, I was only human.

“Better?”

I nodded, hoping none of my recent thoughts were readable on my face, and my helmet stayed put. “Perfect.” I looked at the scooter. “Now what?”

Cary showed me where I’d sit behind him, and told me to be sure to keep my leg away from the tailpipe—that it got really hot, and you didn’t feel it sometimes until you’d gotten a serious burn.

I tried to remember all of this as Cary got onto the bike, and then I climbed on behind him. I was grateful that the skirt of my dress was so twirly, because it meant that climbing onto the back of the scooter wasn’t a problem. I didn’t know what I would have done if I’d been wearing a tighter skirt—ride sidesaddle and hope for the best?

I settled myself on the bike, and then put my feet on the little tilted rests that seemed to be there for that purpose. I held on to the bar behind me and evaluated the situation. There was some space between us—it wasn’t like I had my legs wrapped around him or anything. But… we were very close together, and I tried to sit as far back on the bike as possible. A second later, I shifted forward a little, worried about falling off the back and getting hit by a taxi.

I felt a sudden urge to check the time—I was finding myself tonight, for the first time ever, wishing that I had a watch. I couldn’t let myself get too distracted here. I had to focus on making sure I got to the play. I was about to ask Cary to double-check the alarm settings, when he took the key and turned the engine on.

“If you need to hold on to me, you can,” he said over the sound of the engine, turning his head to look at me. “I mean,” he added quickly, “if you feel comfortable. Just… whatever works best.”

“Thanks,” I said, giving him a quick smile and tightening my hands on the back bar.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”