My hand goes through my waves, not to sort out my mussed-up hair, but because I’m nervous. I want her to like riding with me, because I need to experience that kind of new peace again. Tentatively, I lift her helmet from her head, and her face slowly appears. It’s expressionless, and my heart sinks. But then she grins, eyes sparkling, and dives into my arms, wrapping every limb around me, as if she already misses being stuck to me. I’m so fucking happy, I could cry.

“There’s that grin,” I say, reaching back to set her helmet on the seat of my bike so I can hold her with both hands. “Did you enjoy that?”

She pulls away, finding my eyes, and then she hits me with something I’m not expecting, or that I’m prepared for. “I want one.”

What? No, wait, that wasn’t part of my plan. “Forget it,” I blurt without thought. “Not a fucking chance in hell.” I’ll be a nervous wreck, more than I am already. “Never, no way.” Good God, what was I thinking? “Only ever with me.”

She’s amused. I am not. “I loved it,” she declares, hauling me in, giving me a long, lingering, hot kiss. “Thank you.”

I hum, resigning myself to a new way of riding from here on in. With leathers. And considering I’ll likely buy some to protect myself as well says something. She’s changing me. It makes me wonder if I could possibly like myself one day. Am I capable of that? She makes me want to be a better man, and even though there’s a huge black cloud hanging over my head, waiting to rain all over my parade—that’s the understatement of the century—it makes me hope. Maybe this fuck-up could finally find peace. Be happy. “You’re more than welcome, baby,” I whisper.

“Why are we here?”

“I’ve got a few things to sort out.” Annoyingly. “You can have something to eat while we’re here.” I’m being tactical, reducing the need to waste time eating when we get back to Lusso. I may as well use this time wisely. “Then I’m taking you home, lady.” I place her down and remove some strands of hair from her cheek.

“I’ve got nothing with me,” she says, as if that’s a problem. It isn’t. Ava just doesn’t know it yet.

I clear my throat and prepare for the backlash. “Sam’s here,” I tell her, taking the lead and pulling her along. “He brought some of your stuff from Kate’s.”

Surprisingly, I get no counter or challenge. It’s refreshing. Are we finally having a breakthrough?