The last bell had barely rung when you heard it, low, throaty, and impossible to mistake. Heads turned in the parking lot as Ray’s black motorcycle rumbled into view, chrome flashing in the weak Ironwood sun. He was already pulling off his helmet before he even stopped, green eyes finding you instantly through the crowd.

You didn’t care about the whispers. You didn’t care about the teachers frowning from the sidewalk. You grinned, walking straight toward him in your leather jacket, hair whipping in the breeze.

Ray smirked, holding the helmet out for you. “C’mon, trouble.”

You slipped it on, stepping close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. He smelled like engine oil and danger, the kind of scent that clung to him no matter how many times he showered. Your hands rested on his chest, solid muscle under a worn T-shirt, before you tipped up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his.

It wasn’t a shy kiss. You didn’t do shy. His hand came up to the small of your back, pulling you in just enough to make your heart race, his lips curving against yours in that cocky way that always made your knees feel weaker than you’d admit.

That’s when you heard it, voices behind you.

“Are you serious right now?” Zac’s voice was laced with disbelief.

You turned just enough to see them: Zac, Caitlyn, Curtis, and Marcel, all frozen halfway across the lot. Zac’s jaw was tight, Caitlyn’s eyes were narrowed, Marcel looked amused as hell, and Curtis… Curtis just looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

Ray didn’t let go. In fact, his arm tightened around your waist as he glanced over at them with a slow, smug smile. “Afternoon.”

“Afternoon?” Zac echoed, looking like he was about to explode.