Chapter 60 The Ride
Veronica's POV:
I'd seen Max in many forms by now.
The surfer boy playing in waters... The party boy with a drink in hand and that dangerous smile. The bad boy with his tattoos and irreverent attitude.
I've seen him even drunk and sick, vulnerable in ways he'd probably hate me remembering.
But I never thought he'd be a biker too.
Yet there he stood in the driveway at exactly two o'clock, a helmet dangling casually from one hand, dressed head to toe in black leather.
The jacket fit him like it was custom-made—and knowing the Ashfords, it probably was—hugging his shoulders and arms in a way that emphasized every line of muscle beneath.
His jeans were dark, his boots heavy and worn in that way that said they'd seen actual use, not just fashion.
And behind him, gleaming in the afternoon sun like some kind of mechanical beast, was a racing bike. It was sleek, black, powerful. The kind of machine that looked like it could go from zero to terrifying in seconds.
Max was leaning against it casually, looking like he'd stepped out of some fantasy I hadn't known I had.
"Ready for our date, baby?" He was now speaking biker's slang too?!
It was overwhelming!
Everything about him right now was overwhelming—the leather, the bike, the way he looked at me like he was already imagining peeling me out of my own black jacket that he'd specifically told me to wear.
"Don't tell me you're in some secret biker gang," I said sarcastically, trying to regain some equilibrium, some sense of control over the situation.
His grin was pure wickedness. "Mhmm... I might be. I might not be. Who knows." He pushed off the bike and walked toward me, holding out a second helmet. "But hop on."
Only then did I understand why he'd been so specific about my outfit—black leather jacket, black pants, sturdy boots. This wasn't just for the sake of aesthetics. This was for the ride...
We were going riding.
"Hold me tight, baby," Max said as he swung his leg over the bike with practiced ease, settling into the seat like he'd been born there. "It gets too breezy on the way."
I rolled my eyes, even as my heart started racing with a mixture of anticipation and nerves. "We'll see about that."
I climbed on behind him, trying to maintain some distance, some dignity. My arms wrapped loosely around his waist, barely touching. I could do this. I could be casual about this.
Then he started the engine.
The bike roared to life beneath us like a beast awakening, the vibration running through my entire body, the sound impossibly loud even through my helmet.
And when Max pulled out of the driveway, when he opened up the throttle on the main road—
I slammed myself against his back, my arms crushing around his waist, holding on for dear life.
"Told you so," Max's voice came through, sounding smug and amused, and I could see him smirking at me in the side mirror of the bike. How rude of him?!
I groaned, but the sound was lost in the roar of the engine and the rush of wind.
There was no choice now but to hold him tighter as he drove faster, the world starting to blur around us.
My chest was pressed completely against his back, my thighs gripping the bike—gripping him—my arms locked around his waist like he was the only solid thing in an increasingly liquid world.
Was he even human?!
With the helmet on my face and the wind screaming past us, I was pretty sure he couldn't hear me as I tried to tell him to slow down. My words were torn away, lost in the rush of speed and sound.
I was terrified for the first fifteen minutes.
Completely terrified!
Every acceleration felt too abrupt, every turn too sharp. With every change in speed, my heart pounded so loudly I could hear it over the engine, and my stomach lurched.
It was like being on an endless roller coaster with no control—all you could do was hang on and hope the driver knew what they were doing.
However, things began to shift after that.
Open roads with trees lining them replaced the urban streets.
I took in the beauty of the greens around me, and the rush of the wind...
And just like that the terror I felt earlier from the speed... started transforming into something else.
Something that made my blood sing in my veins.
There was a sense of thrill and high in the speed, I realized... just like how one felt from taking substances...
Along with the solid warmth of Max in front of me—it all become something intoxicating to even feel.
Now, I found myself leaning onto him during the turns instead of fighting them, feeling the way Max shifted his weight and matching his movements instinctively.
My grip on his waist loosened slightly—not because I was less afraid, but because I was starting to trust.
I trust the bike... and Max... and myself... that I was capable of feeling something like this...
Max must have sensed the change because he slowed down a little.
For a moment, I thought we were pulling up somewhere, that our destination was near.
But then his voice came through, loud enough for me to hear even over the engine: "Are you enjoying the ride, baby?"
"Of course—"
I didn't even get to finish my sentence before he opened up the throttle again, the bike surging forward with a burst of speed that stole my breath.
We went even faster than before, the trees becoming nothing but green blurs, the road looked like a ribbon of gray disappearing beneath us at impossible speeds.
The bike leaned into a curve and I leaned with it, with him, my body pressed so tightly against Max's that I could feel every breath he took, every slight adjustment of his muscles.
It felt like flying.
Like being made of nothing but air and speed and pure, distilled adrenaline.
Oh my god.
This man... Max... was going to be the death of me.