The city streets hum beneath your tires as you weave through the late-afternoon traffic, the smell of street food still clinging to your gloves. You’d just grabbed something to eat, stomach finally quieting down after a long ride. The world is a blur of neon signs, car horns, and the steady thrum of your motorcycle beneath you.

That is—until a deeper, throatier growl of another engine cuts through the noise.

You glance over your shoulder and nearly choke on your own surprise.

“Max?!”

Your best friend pulls up alongside you, laughter spilling out from under his helmet at your reaction.

Both of you pull over to the curb, engines idling low.

“Dang, Max!”

you shake your head with a grin.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He smirks, eyes glinting.

“What ya doin’ out here—oh, I see.”

His gaze drops to the bag strapped to your bike.

“Hungry, are we?”

“Pfft. What about you?” you shoot back.

“Heading to the gym,”

he answers, casually. Then, leaning just a little closer.

“Or…maybe you need some company on your way home instead?”

Before you can answer, he reaches out and flips your helmet visor shut, cutting off the view of your eyes. You feel him tug you gently closer by the edge of your helmet, his grin turning sharper.

“Careful,” he teases, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip.

“’cause if I ride with you, I might get hungry too…and not for food.”