Page 47 of Revv

“Not yet.”

“Qué pesado. You think this is a game.”

“I think you like me.”

“I think you have brain damage.”

“Could be both.”

I put the car in reverse. “Move.”

He steps back, still smiling like I didn’t just shut him down for the hundredth time.

Maybe that’s what annoys me most.

He doesn’t look embarrassed or thrown off. He just lets me pull away because, in his head, this is all part of the chase. Like no matter how many times I shut him down, he already knows exactly how this ends.

I roll my eyes, pull out of the driveway, and leave him there packing his tools back into the compartment beneath his bike seat.

By the time I reach the first intersection, he’s caught up.

Of course he has.

He pulls in beside me at the red light, gloves back on, helmet down, one hand loose on the throttle like he didn’t just race to catch me. I glance over, and even through the visor, I know he’s grinning.

I lift my middle finger.

He stays with me the whole way to the beach, never getting too far in front, slowing whenever traffic separates us, like he’s making sure I’m still there.

Annoying.

Cocky.

And, apparently, not letting me out of his sight.

By the time we reach the beach, the parking lot is overflowing. Cars are wedged into every space, music spills from open trunks, and people cross between traffic carrying chairs, umbrellas, coolers, and enough inflatable shit to open a store.

Revel finds a spot for his bike near Echo’s car.

I have to circle twice before I see someone pulling out.

When I finally park, he’s already waiting beside my door.

“You took your time.”

“I was parking a car, pendejo. In case you haven’t noticed, this place is packed.”

“You could’ve ridden with me.”

“I’d rather walk barefoot over hot asphalt.”

He grins. “Didn’t seem to hate being pressed up against me last night.”

“That was temporary insanity.”

“Felt pretty fucking sane from where I was sitting.”

I roll my eyes, waving him off before heading down to the beach.