Iced Out (Leighton U #1)(102)

I shake the dirty thoughts free as best I can and motion with my head to the seat on the back. “C’mon. You know you want to.”

His lips purse for a moment, forming into a tight, thin line as he debates if he has complete trust in me not to destroy one of his most prized possessions…only to round the bike and climb behind me with ease.

Probably a wise decision, if I’m being honest.

Quinn’s torso presses against my back, making it even harder to concentrate than when I could see him. His heat radiating through my shirt sends shivers down my spine as he peeks over my shoulder and continues instructing me with reassurance.

“Okay, you got this. Push your left toe down to put it in first gear. You’ll use your heel to go into second once we start moving. Okay, and then release the clutch slowly while rolling the throttle with your right hand.” He pauses, and I feel the nod of his chin against my shoulder as I do what he says. “That’s it, baby. A little more gas and—”

The bike jerks beneath us, and Quinn’s hands latch onto the handle bars outside of mine, clamping down the clutch and handbrake.

“A little less than that. We don’t need it flying out from under us.” He laughs before pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. “C’mon. Try again. You got this.”

He releases his hold on the handle bars, and I repeat the steps he told me, a little gentler on the gas this time. And like he said, we’re moving across the empty parking lot.

Once we’re going, Quinn’s arms wrap around my waist the way mine have done to him countless times before while we fly down the pavement at what must be a hundred miles an hour, my heart pounding in my ears with the roar of the engine.

And again, I understand why he loves this so much.

The freedom of this moment here with him is unmatched, and I’m basking in it.

Until I realize we’re quickly running out of room, and I have no idea which brake I’m supposed to use in order to stop this thing.

Quinn must realize this too, because he immediately takes control of the bike from behind me, both feet kicking mine out of the way on the footboards before clasping the handlebars too. Don’t ask me how it happens so quickly and easily, but he somehow brings us to a complete stop twenty yards from the end of the parking lot.

Once we’re no longer moving, Quinn kills the engine, and a stark silence falls over us.

He presses a kiss to the side of my throat right where my pulse is still racing beneath my skin, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“Guess I should have mentioned more about braking before I let you ride off into the sunset.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around my waist again and squeezing me. “We’ll work on that the next go around.”

I ignore him completely, still high on the mini adrenaline rush from driving the thing on my own. “Okay, but you just saw me do that, right?”

A low chuckle leaves him and he presses another kiss to the side of my throat before leaning away. “I did. Nice job, hotshot. Maybe next time we can go above twenty.”

I turn and glare over my shoulder the best I can when he’s almost plastered against my back. “We were going faster than that.” Then I think about it, and… “Wait, we went faster than that, right?”

A shake of his head is all I get in answer, his lips rolling in to fight a smile.

Jackass.

He’s my jackass, though, even after all the shit I put him through last year, and that’s what’s important. There are times I don’t think I deserve the second chance he granted me, and when he looks at me the way he is right now is one of those times. With so much fucking pride and love, I could easily be consumed in it.

I’m proud of him too, having seen the work he’s put into becoming the person he is now, and it’s a damn shame his parents are still too fucking stubborn to see it. To want to know the brilliant, kind, charismatic man he is, rather than the shell of the person they wanted him to be.

But their loss…is my gain.

And I’ve gained the greatest teammate I could’ve ever asked for. On the ice, sure, there’s no one better. But it’s off the ice when it counts most, something he’s shown me every single day since we left Chicago for New Jersey.

I know, not the place I imagined myself living once making it to the NHL. But Windsor is almost dead center between Philly and New York City, so it held a lot of appeal after we were both drafted this summer.

Him to New York, and me to Philadelphia.

Playing for different teams again is something I’m not fond of, especially with knowing how great we can be on the ice together. A true dynamic duo that could be unstoppable, if given the chance to shine. But at least we’re on two different teams within a couple hours of each other, making living together a possibility during the off-season and when our home schedules match up.

It’s better than nothing.

And I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly butthurt over the fact that he got New York when they had been my team for years growing up. Philly isn’t bad though. Plus it gives me a little barb to toss at him, seeing as they drafted me five picks before New York got him.

Whatever little wins I can get in this never-ending competition with him, I’m gonna take.

“I’m still proud of you,” he says, ice blue eyes darting between mine. “You did a lot better than I did the first time I drove one.”