Chapter 16. - Living

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A/N: Happy long weekend (if you're in the US). For every other lovely person, I hope your Monday was bearable, and that the rest of your week will be fabulous!

This chapter is dedicated to kenya_giggles ! Nice guess, probably the closest to where they're actually going! Thx for the support! xx

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Lukas LaBelle told me he would pick me up at 8 at the curb around the corner of our apartment. He also asked me not to wear a dress. "Although, I'm going to miss seeing those sexy legs of yours!" He added, chuckling.

So instead of a dress, I chose tight, faded blue ripped jeans that fit me like a glove, a simple black top, black studded booties, and a leather jacket Callie insisted I should wear out on a California night. My shoulder length, dark brown hair was left straight, and I let my best friend apply come eyeliner, and natural shadow to bring out my dark eyes.

Overall, I was satisfied with the look – it was a nice cross between casual, but edgy – so whether he was taking me to a club, or to dinner, I would be able to blend in.

As instructed, I was waiting by the curb by the time 8 rolled around. Watching the birds fly by overhead, I enjoyed the way the cool breeze felt against my skin. It was a beautiful evening, with the sun already settling over the ocean, and only the last orange lights remaining. I inhaled, tasting the salty air, feeling ridiculous happy and hopeful – for the first time in a while.

A roar coming from the side of me interrupted my peaceful idyll.

Turning my head, I spotted a black and golden motorcycle coming down the street. With my lips hanging open, I watched as it screeched to a stop right next to me. The lid on the helmet opened, as a honey brown gaze stared back at me. "Looking hot, Montreal!" The corners of his eyes crinkled, signaling a smile. "Hop on!"

He handed me a black helmet, which I barely caught. I was still in shock.

"You don't seriously expect me to get on the back of your bike!"

He chuckled. "I do. And you better hurry, before the paparazzi catches up."

At that, I actually lifted the hard hat over me, thanking my lucky stars that I didn't decide to do a complicated updo tonight. It smoothed over my head, squeezing my cheeks protectively. Lukas's long arms reached out, pulling me closer to him, as he strapped the helmet on me, fitting it perfectly with the string. "Gorgeous." He commented.

"Put your right foot here." He pointed at the little handle he wanted me to use. "Be careful not to touch this." Lukas motioned toward a rod. "Throw your left foot over and find the same step." When I did, he pulled my arms around himself, hooking my hand into his belt. "And now hang on tight, baby. Move with my body when I do, and tap if you need me to pull over. Understood?"

I could only nod, as the adrenaline was making my tongue swell in my mouth. I was going to ride a bike, for the first time – and I was going to do it pressed up against a fucking rock star.

The motorcycle roared to life again under us, humming rhythmically. It actually felt nice and relaxing, the little vibrations against my butt and-

-we shot off like a rocket.

I might have screamed, but I wasn't sure. My hands were holding onto him so tight, I was praying his belt wouldn't rip. My nails dug into whatever I could find – possibly skinning Lukas LaBelle alive. My legs tightened dangerously around his, using every part of my body I knew to hang on with.

After what felt like just minutes – sitting on the back of Lukas LaBelle's bike, with my head on his shoulder, and my thighs tightly wrapped around him – he pulled over to the side of the road. For the first time since we left my apartment, I glanced around. We must've been on the very outskirts of the city, because there were only a few houses here and there, hidden between the hills and valleys surrounding the road. "You hungry, Baltimore?"

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