HE'S GOTTA BE KIDDING ME

The day had already been too much, and yet somehow, Leo Hayes still wasn't done ruining my life.

I was heading to my next class when his voice stopped me cold.

"Hey, Curious Girl."

I turned slowly, already regretting every life choice that had led me here. "Stop calling me that."

He ignored me — of course — and fell into step beside me like we'd been best friends since birth. "What exactly do you wish to know about me, hmm? Because I've got to say — I'm really enjoying the attention." He shot me a sideways grin. "It's flattering."

I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't fall out of my head. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm just—"

"Curious?" he finished for me, his smirk only growing.

I hated him. I really, really did.

"Oh, you know what?" I shot back, crossing my arms. "Maybe I should spend some time interviewing you. Really get to the bottom of the mystery. I'm sure my readers would love that."

"Like a date?" he asked, without missing a beat.

A date?! Someone, please — tell this boy he was delusional.

"In your dreams, Motorcycle Boy."

He laughed, and the sound did something weird to my stomach. "Don't be scared, Parker. I promise I'm not, like, an ex-murderer or something."

"Oh, good. That's so reassuring," I deadpanned.

"Then it's settled." He stopped walking, and when I turned back to face him, there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "I'll be outside your house by eight."

My jaw dropped. "Wait — how do you—"

He shrugged, that maddening grin never slipping. "Oh, you think you're the only curious one? Please. I have my ways."

And then he walked off, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

This. Was. Not. Happening.

—

But it did.

At exactly 8:01 PM, the sound of an engine roaring outside my house shattered my already fragile grip on reality.

I ran to the window — and yep. There he was.

Leo Owens. On a motorcycle. In my driveway.

Dressed in a black leather jacket and looking like every bad decision I'd ever been warned against.

My phone buzzed with a text from Bill.

Bill: Uh… why is there a biker gang auditioning in our driveway?

I groaned, shoving my phone in my pocket before grabbing my jacket and heading for the door.

This was a bad idea. A catastrophically bad idea.

But when I walked outside and saw the way Leo's eyes lit up at the sight of me, I couldn't quite make myself turn back.

"Ready, Curious Girl?" he teased, patting the seat behind him.

I crossed my arms. "I swear if you call me that one more time—"

"Or what?" He leaned forward slightly, his voice dipping lower. "You gonna write a scathing post about me?"

My glare did absolutely nothing to wipe the grin off his face.

But before I could come up with a decent threat, he held out a helmet.

"Come on," he said, his voice gentler this time. "I don't bite." Then the smirk returned. "Unless you ask nicely."

I snatched the helmet out of his hands before I could spontaneously combust. "You're the worst."

He laughed. "And yet, here you are."

Damn him.

I climbed onto the bike, trying very, very hard not to think about how close we were. The warmth of his back, the scent of leather and something deeper — something that was way too distracting.

"You might want to hold on," he called back. "Unless you want to end up as roadkill."

Oh, I hated him so much.

But when the bike roared to life and we shot forward, I had no choice.

I wrapped my arms around him — and the worst part?

It didn't feel bad at all.

*-*

The bike tore down the street, the wind whipping against my face, and I hated how… alive it made me feel. It was reckless and wild and completely out of control — which also happened to be a perfect description of Leo Owens.

"Relax, Parker," he called over his shoulder. "You're kinda clinging for dear life back there."

"Maybe because you drive like a maniac!" I shot back, tightening my grip around his waist as the bike swerved around a corner.

He just laughed — laughed — like nearly killing us was his idea of a good time.

"I thought you liked a little danger," he teased.

"I like my life more, thanks."

"Then hold on tighter."

I hated that I did exactly that.

After what felt like both forever and no time at all, the bike slowed, and I finally dared to open my eyes. We weren't in my neighborhood anymore — we weren't even in town.

We pulled into an overlook on the edge of a hill, the city lights glittering below like something out of a movie. The engine cut off, and for a second, the only sound was the wind and the distant hum of cars far below.

I climbed off the bike, my legs a little shakier than I wanted to admit, and yanked off the helmet. "What is this place?"

"Somewhere I like to think," Leo said, swinging one leg over the bike and walking toward the edge of the overlook. "No crowds. No noise. Just… quiet."

I followed — not because I wanted to, obviously, but because curiosity is my brand.

"You think?" I asked, shooting him a side glance. "I didn't know bad boys did that."

"Maybe you don't know as much about me as you think you do," he said, his eyes on the horizon.

For once, there was no teasing in his voice. And I hated how much that made me want to ask more.

But no — I couldn't let him flip this on me.

"Okay, mysterious," I said, crossing my arms. "Why don't you fill in the blanks, then?"

He turned to me, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. "I told you — I like the attention. So, go ahead. Ask your questions."

I was not about to let him win. "Fine. What's your deal? Why the motorcycle? Why the leather jacket? You know you're basically a walking cliché, right?"

He grinned. "Would it help if I told you I play guitar, too?"

I groaned. "Of course you do."

"But seriously," he said, his smile softening. "The bike? It's freedom. No rules, no expectations. Just me and the road."

It was… not the answer I expected. And I hated that it made sense.

I needed to change the subject before I started liking him. "Okay, next question — how do you know my name?"

He looked at me, and for the first time, there was something unreadable in his expression. "Like I said… I have my ways."

"Vague and suspicious. Great."

"You're one to talk, Pink Savage."

My stomach dropped. "I—what—"

He raised an eyebrow. "You really thought I wouldn't figure it out?"

My mouth went dry. "You don't have proof."

He stepped closer — not enough to be intimidating, but enough to make my heart do stupid things. "I don't need proof, Curious Girl. I see the way you watch people. The way you always know things before anyone else does. You're a little too good at it."

I swallowed hard. "You could be wrong."

He smiled like we both knew he wasn't. "Maybe. But you haven't denied it yet."

We stood there, the silence stretching between us — electric and dangerous and impossible to break.

And then, because I am a disaster, my phone buzzed.

Bill: Are you alive or did the biker boy kidnap you?

I sighed, turning away from Leo to type a response.

Me: I wish he had. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with your questions later.

"Your brother?" Leo asked, and I spun around.

"How do you know that?!"

He shrugged. "I told you. I pay attention."

I glared at him. "You're infuriating."

"And yet…" He took one step closer, his voice dropping lower. "Here you are."