Page 8 of Salto

“So what brings you out to L.A.?” I asked, completely incapable of succumbing to an awkward silence.

“Work,” he said. “I’m from Carlsbad, actually, so not far. But I had a little business to do here.”

“Oh, nice. So the beach isn’t completely new territory.”

“No, but it’s never not impressive,” he said with a smile. “What about you? What are you doing here? School? Work?”

“School. I’m at UCLA. Studying Communication.”

His eyebrows rose, and another amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Then he faced forward again. “So you don’t know what you want to do yet.”

“Hey, I could really want to go into Communication,” I said, faking a slightly offended expression.

He chuckled, and it was a deep, husky sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

My stomach dipped in the same way it did right before throwing a release move.

He was dangerously cute.

In a way that felt a little reckless.

“You could be, but there’s a ninety-five percent chance you are undecided.” A slight challenge entered his expression.

I sighed. “I am pretty uncertain what I want to do.”

“There’s time to figure it out.”

“I want to believe that, but it’s hard not to feel like the clock is ticking for some reason.” The truth left my lips faster than I intended.

“I get that,” he said.

We fell into silence for the next few minutes. Thankfully, it didn’t feel like I needed to try and fill it with anything.

We reached the parking lot pretty quickly, and a sliver of disappointment passed through me. There wasn’t a good reason to stick around anymore.

I gestured in the direction of my car parked down the road.

“Well, I’m parked further away, but it was nice to talk with you,” I said, meaning it.

He paused on the sidewalk next to the motorcycle spots. In one of them was a sleek black Yamaha.

“Wanna ride to your car?” he asked, gesturing to the motorcycle.

I laughed. “You’re kidding.”

His eyes seemed to almost sparkle at my reaction. “Does it look like I’m kidding?”

I gestured to the bike. “You actually drive this?”

His head tilted back, and a hearty laugh escaped him.

“Yes, this is my bike.”

Of course it was.

I shook my head. “You could die on that thing.”

One blond eyebrow lifted. “You could die doing a lot of things.”