#4 Romantic Hero (Part II)
From the first, from Thunder's tap on my shoulder I felt burdened by him. I wanted five minutes alone just to think. To take a deep breath. To put into perspective the man with the newspaper on the train. Thunder, though, hustled me off the platform. we stopped in front of 'his baby'. Thunder explained his the moto-solex worked using perpetual motion and steam properties. These were words I'd never heard before, nor understood. All I knew is this was no horse we'd be riding to meet Thorn.
Now, halfway to Thorn's house, we were stopped again under a gas lamp. Thunder repositioned me on the back. I appreciated the care he took on not touching my knees or legs with his thighs. I was already uncomfortable with how the skirts of my dress had to be bunched up in order to safely 'ride' the contraption.
For a moment in putting his own helmet back on Thunder paused. The sun wasn’t up yet – not a hint of it in the skies. The air was sweet and dew wet. He lifted his face towards the full bellied moon and drew in a deep breath.
“You can tell a lot about a city by its people.” Thunder said. “And the shops. I own a gym. There are only two in the city, so I feel pretty lucky there’s not much competition.” He slung his leg over the seat, caught my hand and brought it around to rest on his waist. "Hold on tight this time.”
It was an invasion. The vibrations of the motorbike underneath my thighs had me gritting my teeth. My hand over the taut mountains and valleys of his stomach muscles wanted me to jump off the bike. The helmet was a cumbersome weight on my head. I could barely keep the thing from banging against the back of his skull.
I was not enjoying the ride.
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