Everly

The motorcycle comes to life when we climb back on, and a noise rumbles in my ears. Sounds of someone striking a match then crazy laughter bounces around inside my helmet. There wasn’t music playing on our way here so when I hear, “Let the sparks fly,” said through the earphones before a hard guitar riff slams through the speakers, my heart beats with anticipation. ()

The song works its way up to the male singer yelling, “There's no such thing as maybe,” and now I know what he meant by that statement when I first hopped on.

He nods to his friends, and they speed off, both guys pulling a wheelie but thankfully mine keeps the tires on the ground.

We ride away from the airstrip to the opposite side of town. Once on a country road, the three of them play, racing around each other. One stands on his bike as it speeds down the road, while the other flips it forward doing a front wheelie stop before spinning it around in the middle of the street in front of us.

My guy slams on the breaks; narrowly avoiding him before yanking on the throttle, and in one swift movement pulls the bike up on its back wheel. I yelp in fear, holding on for dear life, and when the front touches back down, an adrenaline rush I've never felt runs through my veins as I shriek in joy. I'm so high on life that I pull him in tighter to me, asking him to do it again.

He nods in acknowledgment, letting go of one handlebar to grip my hand, pulling my arms even tighter around him. When he lets go of my hand, I hold on to his for a second too long, moving lower on his waist, and I swear something hard and long catches my attention.

His gruff laughter confirms my thoughts, but before I can say anything, he pulls the front tires off the ground and up in the air. Freedom, excitement, and exhilaration don't even come close to explaining the thrill of the experience.

The twinkling lights of the stadium just outside of town come into view, and they all make the left turn to head that direction simultaneously. Only a few of the parking lot lights are on, but otherwise, the place is empty.

They pull directly up to the fence that leads onto the field. The engines go silent, and we climb off the bikes. I go to remove my helmet, but he stops me before I can, turning me, so my back is to the stadium and handing me a mask similar to theirs.

“This place has cameras. Are you ready to be one of us?” he asks, his face showing no emotion through the mask, but his voice full of devilry.

The thin, white, almost foam-like mask lies flimsily in his hands. I glance down at it and then back at him in question. He starts to pull off the back, demonstrating how it works. I remove my helmet before taking it from him, peeling the rest away before he helps me position it on my face. His hands softly press around the edges of the foam, making sure it's secure. With every touch he gets closer, moving slower while we stand in silence.

My breath hitches when he stops, leaning in slightly like he's going to press his lips to mine but stops short, saying, “May I kiss you?”

“I, I don't, but… " I stutter, so damn flustered and unsure of how to respond. "W-who are you?” I blurt out.

“Does it really matter who I am?” he questions silkily before finally making his move, encasing me in his strong, powerful arms for a brief moment, before opening his mouth, sweeping his tongue with mine, and pulling me in even closer.

My body ignites in his arms, and my knees go weak from his touch.

He pulls away before I'm ready, whispering in my ear, “Now that we've felt sparks fly, let's go watch them.”

I shake my head in confusion but am unable to say anything before I'm whisked away. Meeting back up with the other two guys, who have removed the locks on the gate, we’re able to open them enough to get by.

One of them carries the backpack I noticed tied to his motorcycle while we all walk toward the center of the field. My guy reaches for my hand while saying to the other, “Joey, lights.”

He nods his response and runs off toward a building, slipping out of sight in the darkness surrounding us. I expect to be able to see more but instead, the few lights creeping in from the parking lot, go out.

With nothing other than the stars to guide our way, I look up, noticing how intense they shine out here, away from the city without anything to overshadow their strength.

With my hand in his, we move in silence to the middle of the field. Once there, the one with the backpack sets it on the ground and starts unloading sticks of some sort. Taking his time, he lines up one after another, evenly spacing them.

“What are those?” I ask, stepping forward to get a better view.

“Fireworks. Are you ready?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “To watch the sparks fly?”

My heart flutters, and my breath hitches from his closeness.

“Light it up!” he yells to his friend once he pulls away.

In no time, a fuse is lit, and within seconds, crackling sounds echo around me before flares shoot up about ten feet in the air, illuminating the space around us for a few seconds.

Joey walks back to join us and produces a portable speaker from his backpack. “Did someone say light it up?” he asks while scrolling through his phone.

“Hell yeah!” the other one yells as he ignites the end of another firecracker. “Light up the sky!” he sings in tune with the song that Joey played as another burst of color explodes only a few feet above us.

I turn to my guy. “Are you all obsessed with Thousand Foot Krutch or what?” I ask, referencing our soundtrack for the night.

He leans down, swooping me in his arms and holding me close. It's dark all around us, but the moon shines off his white mask, reminding me I still have no clue who he is. But right here, right now, I would not change this moment for the world.

“Just about as obsessed as I am with a girl who sits on top of rocks at The Ridge,” he says, studying me.

I flinch, taken aback by his comment. I put my hand up to his chest, putting some space between us. “Wait, you watch me?” I'm not sure if I should be flattered or freaked out.

It doesn't seem to faze him. “Why do you think you're here right now? I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble if I wasn't intrigued by you.”

“Intrigued?” I ask, not sure what he meant by the comment.

“Yes. You always appeared so deep in thought, so free. I was curious what you thought about. Who you are.”

I pause as I take in his statements. Even Jeannine thinks it’s odd I sit there by myself as long as I do. At this moment, I get the sensation that someone finally gets me. He understands my need to be alone to clear my thoughts. But I still don’t understand. “So you brought me here to see who I was?”

“No, I brought you here to see if my intuition was right about you.”

“Intuition?”

“I needed to know if you would be down for anything. I got this vibe that you were bored with life and desired more.”

I lean back in, digging where this conversation is going. I'm sick of the same boring guys I've been dating with no adventure in their lives. So far, this has been the most interesting night I've had in a long time, if not ever.

“And you can give that to me?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“With the right person by my side, the possibilities are endless.”

I arch a brow. “So you think I'm the right person?”

“That's yet to be determined, but the fact that you're here is a huge first step.”

We stare at each other in silence for a long, heated moment, and I find myself leaning toward him, suddenly desperate to feel his lips on mine again. But the moment is shattered when the boom of a firework shoots up, high in the sky in a long stream before exploding around us.

Both of us look up in surprise. He holds onto my shoulders, moving me slightly to the side so he can address his friend.

“What the fuck, Joey?” he growls, approaching him.

“Shit, I thought these were all shorter ones. I swear I didn't know we had any big ones like that,” he states, holding up his hands in surrender.

His body language screams tension, but not at his friend, more the situation in general. He turns to his other friend. “Thoughts?”

“We should bail. The lights going out were risky enough.”

He doesn't reply, just nods, grabbing my hand as he heads out of the stadium. The other two quickly pack up the rest of the fireworks and are by our side by the time we get to the motorcycles.

Everyone's quiet, only moving with extreme purpose. Each of them oozes a sense of masculinity and authority I've never experienced. The trepidation of possibly getting caught sends chills down my spine, making my heart race. I hold on tightly when the tires squeal, and we speed down the road.

* * *

Everly

We turn onto the road from the parking lot only to be greeted by police beams filling the view in front of us and blocking our way out.

My guy yells out, “Hold on!”

I squeeze tightly as he flips the bike around, speeding through the parking lot, back to the stadium and weaving through the walkways. They regroup at the high peak of the paths.

“What's the plan?” Joey asks.

We all turn to see police cars waiting at the base of the walkways as well as the entrance. They turn to see the back of the stadium still void of police cars.

“The fence, right there. You still got the bolt cutters?” my guy asks.

“Yup,” Joey says, patting the backpack.

“Good. Go.” He tilts his head toward the gate while kicking the bike back into gear, and we all take off at top speed.

They get there seconds before we do and jump off, one pulling the gate open while the other cuts the lock to one side, opening it just enough for us to squeeze by.

He nods his thank you before twisting the throttle and speeding away.

With freedom in sight, the other two join us on either side. We exit through the last bunch of huge pillars that line the road, but before we can make our getaway, police cars come at us from every angle, circling us, so there's no escape.

The bike comes to a screeching halt, skidding sideways, coming close to falling to the ground, but he's able to steady us before we do.

His head falls to his chest, realizing he's defeated.

“Put your hands up!” an officer yells at us from his car.

I see his hand on his gun, but thankfully it's not pointed at us. I start to move, but my guy stops me.

“Stay here,” he commands as he climbs off instead.

He removes his helmet, and instantly, the officer pulls his gun when he realizes he's wearing a mask.

“Take off the mask,” the officer yells.

All three of them walk toward the officer with their hands in the air.

“We don't want trouble,” one of them answers. “But no, we can't remove the masks.”

I hear the crackle of a radio from the officer’s transmitter saying something I can't make out, but obviously, it's got the attention of the other cops who briefly turn to the side. I follow their gaze and am shocked to see the glow of orange and red hues coming from a field nearby.

They look at each other, and then all back to me when the realization hits us all simultaneously.

Fire.

I sit in shock as the officers kick into gear. Handcuffs wrap around Joey and the other guy’s wrists while another officer yells for me to get off the bike.

Our masks are all ripped off our skin while we stand helplessly with our hands secured behind us. I'm walked over to where they are, when my sight lands on those of someone I never once envisioned showing me the best night of my life.

Sage Stevinson, Prince Sage Stevinson stares back at me, his expression saying it all.