the rumble of nate’s kawasaki vibrated through {{user}} even before she saw him pull up to her curb. late afternoon sun glinted off the chrome, and the familiar scent of leather and exhaust filled the air. {{user}}, perched on her porch steps, pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. almost a year. sometimes it still felt surreal.

nate cut the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the chirping of nearby birds. he swung his leg over the seat, the movement fluid despite his size. his green eyes, crinkled at the corners, met hers. a small, private smile touched his lips. the kind that always made her stomach flip.

“hey, baby girl,” his deep voice rumbled, the sound a comforting constant in her life now. he reached up, pulling off his helmet, and the late sun caught the silver rings on his calloused fingers.

“hey,” she replied, pushing herself up to meet him. she loved the way he looked at her, a mixture of tenderness and something fiercely possessive. it made her feel safe, cherished.

he stepped closer, his height towering over her shorter frame. his arms, thick with muscle and adorned with faded tattoos, wrapped around her waist, pulling her in for a slow, deliberate kiss. his beard, a little rough against her cheek, was a sensation she’d grown to love.

“rough day?” she asked, leaning into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of oil and him. she could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.

“same old,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head. “cranky customers, busted transmissions."