On the back of Ryan’s bike the world smells new and fresh as we whip past it. I love that scent in the air after a downpour. The rain seems to wash away more than just the dust and grime. It managed to rinse away the millions of things that try to break the world’s back. It’s as if everything is possible again after a storm like that. Even the trees that only yesterday looked like the snarled hands of monsters seem to have reshaped. Like the water reshaped them from something ancient and scary to something new and full of promise. Their stretched limbs now appear more like the splayed legs of virgins, giving hope to the young men on their wedding bed.

That storm must have been huge. We’ve been driving for hours and it looks like the entire state was washed clean. Every mile of road we’ve traveled has been covered with puddles. Every wisp of wind that’s whirled past us has carried the scent of promise.

“Hungry?” Ryan jars me from my thoughts. He points to the sign for an off-road diner not far.

“I could eat,” I agree, nodding. I’m sure he can’t make out my words, so I emphatically shake my head like I’m trying to bounce off his helmet.

Ryan returns his focus to the road and I hug his waist, resting against his back as he expertly weaves off the highway and down the well-worn road toward the restaurant. He pulls up to a building that’s showing its age, but is still modern and new compared to where I was working. Flipping the kick out with his foot, he kills the motor and helps me off the back like a gentleman. He takes the helmet back and tucks it under his arm. He even opens the diner door for me.

Heat spreads over my cheeks, probably making them match my hair as I drop my head shyly. I can’t help it. I’m just not used to someone like Ryan. In my life I went from fumbling boys who could barely spit out a sentence to gruff men who chose to keep quiet unless they were angry. Ryan is so different. He’s the perfect blend of spicy and sweet. I love that he can fuck me harder than I’ve ever felt before and then opens doors for me. That he can protect me from my biggest fears and then try to learn about my life.

We quickly find a seat in a booth and pluck a couple of menus free from the holder on the side of the table. There are a few families in here and some other couples who’ve stopped in for lunch. It’s nice to get lost in the buzz of their voices as we scan our food options.

“I’m starving.” Ryan points to his page. “I think I’m gonna grab one of the hungry man specials.”

I take a look at the page and the little photos that helpfully give you an idea of what you’re ordering. “Me too,” I agree, placing my menu on his.

“No way,” he muses. His blue eyes search my body. “Where do you think you’re gonna pack all that food away? There’s no chance you can eat all that.”

“Wanna bet?” I hold out my hand and my cheeks blaze even brighter when I remember how our last bet went.

“What’s the wager?” His eyes twinkle.

I can see he has a prize in mind… me.

“If I win, we have to find a bar or club where we can dance tonight. I want to see what kind of moves you’re hiding.” I lean back and smile.

“Oh, I’ll show you all my moves. Don’t worry about that.” He grins. “And what if you lose?”

“I don’t know. What are you thinking?”

His eyes glint like rays of sunshine in a summer sky. “If you lose, you also have to dance. But not in some club. Just for me. I want a full-on striptease.” He sits up straight, clearly way too proud of himself.

He thinks I’m gonna back down. Like that’s going to be enough to make me doubt myself.

“If I were you, I’d get your dancing shoes polished up, ’cause you’ve got a deal.” I hold out my hand and he shakes it.

“Well, when I win, I don’t want you wearing any shoes at all. Not a stitch of anything by the time you’re done.”

He’s so cocky.

When the waitress comes over we both order the same hungry man special with a large Coke each and she writes it down and leaves us.

Just as she leaves, I notice a man who was looking our way turns around in his seat quickly. Like he doesn’t want to meet my eyes. My heart leaps into my throat as my body quivers. That’s his jacket. That’s Wolfe. How did he find me?

“What’s wrong?” Ryan follows my gaze and frowns.

“That’s him. It’s Wolfe.” I try to shrink under the table. To fold over and disappear, even though I know he already spotted me. Is he waiting for us to leave here? Is he going to follow us out and put a bullet in our heads? I have no way of knowing.

“It’s not him.” Ryan squints and looks at me like he’s trying to reassure me. It’s not working.

“That’s his jacket. I know it’s him. What are we gonna do?” My mouth is dry, but the waitress hasn’t brought our drinks yet. I feel like my tongue is coated in sand.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“All right, enough of this shit.” Ryan pops up from his seat and strides across the floor with purpose. Even though he’s halfway across the restaurant, I can hear him clear as day. “Okay, buddy, I think it’s about time—”

He stops dead in his tracks. He’s frozen solid. The man turns and I can finally see his face. And it’s clearly not Wolfe. The stranger looks up at Ryan, confused.

“About time for what?”

“Uh, it’s, I think it’s about time I paid it forward today.” Ryan’s tone changes completely. All the edge has been smoothed from his voice. “Someone paid for our breakfast this morning, so I want to pay for your lunch,” he stumbles but tries to think on his feet.

“What?” The guy doesn’t appear angry, just like he truly doesn’t understand.

“Yep, um, here’s a couple twenties.” Ryan digs out his wallet and slaps the bills on the table before walking back to me.

“Thanks?” the man calls out like he’s asking a question.

Ryan responds by lifting his hand in the air and sliding back into our booth.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Ryan. I really thought it was him.”

“I know, Red. I know. It’s okay. Listen, I think it’s clear you need to relax. After lunch we’re going to find a nice hotel to stay at tonight. I think you need somewhere you can take a bath and just chill for the night.”

“Sure,” I mumble at my hands, embarrassed. I was sure it was Wolfe. Sure of it. I glance over at the man across the room and see, yet again, just how wrong I was. “Sounds good,” I agree.