Cary revved the motor, pulled out into traffic—and we were off.

At first, my heart was hammering as I was sure, in every moment, that we were about to die a horrible death and be talked about gravely on NY1. We were in the traffic in a way I’d never experienced in a car. We zoomed around taxis and squeezed past cars to wait at stoplights. Then, when the light turned green, we took off again with a force that sent me backward each time.

Cary suddenly braked hard to avoid a car swerving out into traffic, and I nearly lost my balance. For one heart-stopping second, I thought I was about to fall off the bike. A volley of insults from all around us followed; the driver yelled back, giving as good as he got. My pulse was racing triple-time, even as I righted myself on the seat and told myself that it was fine, that I was safe. But the problem with holding on to the bar behind me was that it threw my weight backward—so that I was already partway to losing my balance whenever the bike swerved or stopped suddenly. And after that close call, I didn’t want to hold on to the bar anymore. All of which meant I was going to have to hold on to Cary.

Any reservations I might have had about this—because it was significantly more than just flirting with someone in a bodega—went away when compared with the fact that I’d just come pretty close to falling into New York traffic. So as Cary slowed for the stoplight turning yellow at Forty-Ninth Street, I took one hand off the back bar and grabbed onto the fabric of his brown leather jacket. I was trying not to hold on to him—even though he’d said it was fine—but figured that holding on to his coat was a good compromise. I reached around with my other hand to grab his coat on the other side—just as the light turned green and the scooter jolted forward. I instinctively stopped holding the fabric of his coat and gripped onto him, holding either side of his waist.

And I didn’t even have time to worry if this was okay or get embarrassed, because it was clear after just a few minutes how much better it was. I was able to lean forward slightly and move with Cary when he leaned to the side when taking a turn, finding the rhythm of moving with him.