Page 15 of Catching Flynn

No such luck. Zavier merged into the lazy downtown traffic, but it wasn’t as bad as Flynn had feared. The bike moved so smoothly he barely noticed.

The car in front of them turned right at the corner, leaving the street in front of them wide open.

Zavier was going to do it. He would speed up and Flynn would pass out.

He sped up, but Flynn wasn’t having an aneurysm. He was growing like crazy, wishing he could feel the wind on his face.

“Doing great,” Zavier said through the headset.

“I’m really trying.” Flynn felt the rush of air under the helmet. “I’m still holding a little too tight and my heart is going nuts.”

A warm laugh glided through the space inside his helmet. “Keep with me on the lean.”

“I’m gonna fall off!”

They turned off the main drag faster than Flynn would have preferred and onto a narrower road that curved away from town. The first bend made him dizzy. He thought for sure he would make them crash, but his body instinctively mirrored Zavier’s.

Zavier squeezed one of Flynn’s hands where it was locked over his stomach.

“Loosen up a little,” Zavier said.

“I thought I was doing great, Flynn mumbled. “Took that bend pretty nicely. Didn’t even make us crash.”

“You took it like a seasoned rider, hon.” Zavier patted Flynn’s hands. “Just clenched up a little. For a first-time rider, you’re doing amazing.”

“How do you know this is my first time on a motorcycle?” Flynn had thought that but didn’t say it out loud.

“My job is to notice everything, but you nearly melted down at the thought of riding,” Zavier said. “Either a motorcycle incident traumatized you, or you’ve never been on one. The second option seemed the most likely choice.”

Wind moved around them in warmer and cooler ribbons. Houses grew farther apart, scattered with space between them instead of pressing shoulder to shoulder. Trees lined sections of road in green bursts, and beyond them the mountains sat huge and blue-gray in the distance, layered against the sky like a postcard.

The air smelled different out here. Less exhaust, more earth and cut grass. Flynn inhaled the scent of someone’s woodsmoke, one of his favorite smells.

How long had it been since Flynn had wandered past the town limits? One year? Two? His life really had become predictable. Even though he lived in an isolated mountain town, there was still plenty to do on Crimson Hollow and its surrounding cities.

Flynn had become complacent, his world narrowing until it was the bookstore and home, with an occasional grocery run.

Every Sunday like clockwork.

“Still with me?”

“Yes.” Flynn rested his forehead between Zavier’s shoulder blades. “Zoned out on the stunning view.”

“Stunning views are worth focused attention sometimes.” His hand squeezed Flynn’s again. It was starting to feel as if Zavier was comforting him.

A warm sensation spread through Flynn. It didn’t take long to realize the feeling was safety. He’d only known Zavier for half a day. There shouldn’t be a sense of safety. He should still have Zavier at arm’s length.

But there was something about the guy. His calmness, quit tone, and presence had somehow wrapped a blanket of safety around Flynn.

He liked how good it felt to finally breathe again.

With Zavier, Flynn felt protected in ways he hadn’t for a very long time.

Chapter Five

Two weeks and not a single note. Not that Zavier was complaining. He was enjoying getting to know his mate, to peel back the layers Flynn had kept hidden for too long.

Flynn had also become quite a little chatterbox. His defenses were lowering, and he was relying less on humor as deflection. It was like watching a neglected flower bloom in the sun, colors beautiful and vibrant.