Chapter 215: A Night Out In The Breeze

I carefully slipped out from between Ruby and Chloe, disentangling Ruby’s arm from around my waist without waking her. Across the room, Patricia was sleeping peacefully, her breath steady and soft.

Something just wasn’t letting me rest. The heavy silence in the estate felt off, and my gut told me to check on May before calling it a night.

I pulled on a dark t-shirt and made my way quietly down the grand staircase.

As I rounded the corner into the lower lounge, I spotted her. May was sitting near the edge of the sofa, slumped forward with her elbows on her knees. She was staring blankly at the floor, twirling her fingers in her lap over and over—a nervous, restless habit I had never seen from her before. The fierce, confident elite athlete was completely gone, replaced by a girl drowning in her own head.

She let out a heavy, defeated exhale that sounded like she was carrying the weight of the world on her chest. Then, she stood up, brushing her hands against her legs.

She was already fully dressed—a black leather biker jacket over a simple top, jeans, and a sleek motorcycle helmet resting under her arm. She turned toward the side exit, clearly planning to slip out into the night alone.

"May," I called out softly.

She froze mid-step, her shoulders flinching slightly before she turned around to face me.

"Where are you going at this hour?" I asked, stepping down into the lounge.

May jumped slightly, quickly adjusting the helmet under her arm as she pulled her usual tough, bro-ish demeanor back over her face like a mask.

"Jesus, Ethan, you scared me," she muttered, tossing her head back with a defensive smirk. "I’m just going for a ride to clear my head. Nothing major."

"Since when do you have a motorcycle?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I walked closer.

"Since a while ago," she shrugged, tapping the side of her helmet. "It’s parked out back. I just needed to hit the open road for a bit. You don’t have to worry about it."

"Hold up," I said, pointing a finger at her. "I’m coming with you."

"No, really, Ethan, don’t," she said quickly, her eyes shifting with a sudden flash of hesitation. "It’s better if you stay here. Seriously. I just need to be alone."

"Not happening," I replied smoothly, already turning back toward the stairs before she could object further. "You’re not zipping around on a bike at two in the morning in your head. I’m coming with, whether you like it or not."

"Ethan—"

"Don’t you dare leave before I get down," I called over my shoulder, jogging upstairs to grab my jacket.

I threw on my jacket, grabbed my phone, and headed right back down the stairs. May was still standing in the lounge, her helmet tucked firmly under her arm, tapping her foot on the floor like she was trying to talk herself out of waiting.

"Alright," I said, zipping up my jacket as I reached her. "Let’s go."

She sighed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, but a tiny smirk cracked through her defensive front. "Fine. Follow me."

We walked around to the side driveway, where she pulled off a dark tarp to reveal a sleek, low-slung black powerbike. The matte finish caught the dim patio lights, and the line of the frame was aggressive and heavy.

"Damn," I admitted, running my eyes over it. "Didn’t pin you for a powerbike rider."

"There’s a lot you don’t know about me," May said, tossing me a spare helmet she pulled from a side storage compartment. "Put it on. I’ll drive."

"Nope. I’m riding," I said, stepping right up to the bike.

May stopped dead in her tracks, raising an eyebrow at me. "You? Ethan, can you even ride a heavy bike like this?"

Truth was, I had never touched a powerbike in my life. But I knew I’d figure it out the second my hands hit the handlebars. "Get on, May. I’ve got it."

She stared at me for three long seconds, realizing I wasn’t backing down, before letting out another defeated huff. "If you wreck my bike, I’m kicking your ass."

I swung my leg over the leather seat, adjusted my helmet, and gripped the handlebars, feeling out the throttle and clutch. I fired up the engine—a low, deep roar echoed through the empty driveway.

May climbed on behind me, but instead of holding onto me, she sat up completely straight, holding onto the rear grab rails with her knuckles practically turning white. She kept a clear few inches of space between us, as stiff as a board.

I looked back at her through my visor. "You know you’re supposed to wrap your arms around my waist, right? You’re going to fly off the back if I open the throttle."

"Nope. I’m good right here," she said quickly, her voice tight.

I could feel the hesitation radiating off her. It wasn’t just about safety or being tough—it was like putting her arms around my waist was a line she was terrified to cross, like she was actively fighting some heavy, internal pull inside her chest.

"Suit yourself," I murmured, kicking up the kickstand and rolling us out into the cool, silent night.

The automatic iron gates glided open smoothly, letting us out onto the quiet, empty asphalt. As soon as the tires hit the main stretch, I leaned into the handlebars and cranked the throttle.

The engine let out a guttural, throaty roar, and the heavy powerbike surged forward with instant, violent acceleration.

"Woah—Jesus, Ethan, slow down!" May gasped, her body jolting back from the sudden momentum.

She had zero choice. Abandoning the rear grab rails, her hands flew around my waist, wrapping tightly around my chest as she pulled herself flush against my back.

The cool early-morning air whipped past us, carrying the quiet, crisp stillness of the pre-dawn hours. With the open road completely clear, I wasn’t slowing down for a second. I leaned into the curves, feeling out the bike’s center of gravity like I’d been riding it for years.

At first, May remained completely rigid against me. I could feel every tense muscle in her core, her grip tight enough to leave bruises through my jacket as she fought against the proximity. She was trying so hard to keep that emotional wall up between us.

But as the smooth rhythm of the ride took over and the wind rushed around us, the tension in her arms slowly began to give way. The stiffness melted out of her frame, her chest relaxing against my back as she settled in.

To hide the fact that she was finally loosening up—and to cover up how comfortable she was getting with her arms locked around me—she leaned close to my ear, her voice barely cutting through the rush of the wind.

"Okay, I hate to admit it," she called out, a nervous chuckle hiding behind her tough tone, "but where the hell did you learn to handle a bike like this? You’re a natural, man!"

"Told you I had it!" I shouted back with a grin, glancing in the rearview mirror as her grip stayed firm and warm around my waist. "Now relax and enjoy the ride, May!"