Who does he think he is? Sex with me is not a given because I am not one of his bimbos. I don’t hand that shit out like Halloween candy.
“That’s one of the worst things a first date has ever told me.”
Another hand tugs through his hair as he sighs. He may be sharp on the racetrack, but his people skills suck. I withhold the temptation to stick my tongue out at him because it’ll encourage him more.
“It gets cold with the wind. Take my jacket.” He slides the leather jacket off his back and passes it to me. The moment I put it on, a smell that’s distinctly his with a hint of leather surrounds me. It calms me down a teensy bit.
“Please do this for me? It’ll be fun, I promise. If you hate it, I’ll park the bike and order us an Uber.”
His sincerity does me in. I accept my fate and walk up to the spaceship.
It’s one date.
I sigh. “All right. Because you asked nicely.”
He gives me a wicked grin.
I’m so screwed.
Five minutes later, we speed down one of Baku’s seaside streets. The smell of the ocean relaxes me as the city lights blur past us. Lucky for him, I don’t suffer from motion sickness because this bike hits maximum speeds. I grip onto Noah’s waist for dear life as tires tear across the pavement. My hands accidentally brush up against his abs, and I casually run a finger across them, interested in counting the ridges. He laughs at my failed attempt to be subtle. The rumbling sensation of the motorbike beneath my ass and touching his abs is turning me on.
Did he plan this on purpose? My body presses up against him and my arms wrap around him, leaving no space. Even my legs plaster tightly against his to make sure I don’t fall off. If it wasn’t risky, I’d wrap them around him as an extra safety precaution. The whole situation comes across as intimate despite my bubbling anxiety.
Everything feels different with only Noah and me. No press, no friends, no distractions. We strip away all the extra stuff getting in the way of us spending alone time together.
He streams music through a pair of speakers, making the whole experience much more enjoyable than I thought. Ocean mist hits my face as we get closer to the beach, and I love every second of it. I won’t admit it to his face though because he gets to gloat enough as it is.
Noah eventually pulls the bike into a secluded area by the shore. I hop off, anxious to break our physical connection. My chest tightens at the scene in front of us.
A couple of lanterns outline a picnic area, looking unexpectedly romantic.
“Just fun?” I mumble under my breath, the date not screaming casual to me.
“Relax. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the colorful blanket.
I settle into one of the cushions on the sand. A picnic basket is open off to the side, along with a bucket with chilled wine. The sound of waves crashing against the shore makes the perfect soundtrack.
A wave of uneasiness threatens to take away my happiness. Noah’s lips say casual, but his actions speak differently. People propose in less cute ways. I take a deep breath of the salty ocean air to calm me down, hoping a few inhales can cure my insecurity about Noah’s intentions.
“How did you plan all of this?”
“I had a little help.” He shoots me a rare shy smile.
“Right. Busy life of an F1 driver.” It impresses me how he made an effort to make sure something nice was planned.
“We can pretend for a night that none of that exists. No talk of your brother and no bringing up Baku. You’re a girl and I’m a guy on a normal date.” He flashes me his usual mischievous smile.
Did I say he looks like trouble already? Still waiting on the warning label.
I agree to his terms. We eat together, talking about anything and everything. He tells me about his favorite TV shows and the best cities in America. I say how I’ve never been there, and he insists I need to go at least once, offering to show me around and take me to the best food places. I tell him about my failed attempts at graduating on time, being held back a year after I figured out I wasn’t meant to be a Spanish Elle Woods attending Harvard.
“Let’s play a game.” Noah hits me with a mischievous grin.
“Seriously?”
“Dead serious. Ever heard of two truths and a lie?”
I roll my eyes with minimal effort. “What are you, eighteen and attending your first college party?”
Noah lets out a rough laugh. “I never went to college. Entertain me?”
I nod because I’d do just about anything with him smiling at me the way he does.