“Why are you taking me out?”

“I can’t?”

“Yes, you can, I’m just asking why.”

“Cover up well. I’m not going to ring the bell, you’ll hear when I’m there :)”

A roar announced Simon’s arrival after his vague texts, on his brand new blue Suzuki GSX-S1000GX, revving it just outside your house. You stepped outside to see him in full gear, black helmet with a screened visor, black leather jacket and jeans.

“Jump up, princess!” He called as he held out a spare helmet, and you immediately obliged.

You didn’t know that the remedy for a breakup was for your best friend to take you out for a ride on his bike, and there were probably a thousand more things to do, but this did the trick for you. The sun was setting, the streets weren’t busy, and the adrenaline-induced rush was making you feel great.

Throughout the ride, Simon could feel you touching him more and more, and it wasn’t just you being pressed flush against his back, your hands around his waist. You massaged his shoulders when you stopped at red lights, pinched his biceps or his thighs when you were going slower.

Getting a little more daring, you slid your hands slightly higher along his inner thigh as you stopped again, then immediately withdrew. But Simon grabbed your wrists, placing them back where they were.

“Gettin’ handsy, princess?” He asked. “Don’t start something if you’re just gonna chicken out.”