I love it.
Riding calms my nerves and clears my head.
Occasionally, you get to smell roadkill and death.
In the skies, you see eagles and hawks in the air currents, making almost no movement with their wings.
On a bike, you get to see, feel, and smell so much more than in a vehicle.
I moved my hand to rub Max’s thigh, acknowledging she was there, and she squeezed my waist in response.
The wind was at our backs, the sun to our side, and the air filled with the rumble of our bikes. We slowed when we reached a small town, people coming out to watch us ride by, some waving to us, the children calling out.
The towns closest to us know we are friendly and have helped other small towns when in need. They don’t see bikers as a threat.
Maxine POV
Tank was out of bed, rushing to the bathroom. It was still a little dark, but we were leaving early and had a long ride ahead.
Can’t wait, looking forward to being on the road, getting fresh air in my lungs, and a change of scenery.
I pushed myself out of bed, rubbing my eyes with the knuckles of my hand.
Getting dressed, my phone pinged.
I received the message from Sticks, filled with love heart emojis.
I had informed her that the bike was ready, and she was going to do the unveiling before the ride, just her and Prez.
“He can’t believe you got it ready on time, and he loves it. Thank you so much.” Sticks had texted me, I had wheeled the bike to be near the door, and had placed a cover over it. Setting up some spotlights to highlight the bike. She promised to turn on the lights I set up to shine on the motorcycle before uncovering it. Make a big production of showing it off, and it sounds like she did what I asked, and it worked. I was churned up, wanting to see his face, but scared he wouldn’t like it, which meant I didn’t want to be there. How mixed up is that?
Tank had asked me to ride on the back. I didn’t want to at first, but then I thought it was my first time out with the guys, so it might be best to ride on the back, learn the ropes, and get to ride mine next time. I am a control freak when it comes to being on a bike. Pillion was never a spot I had enjoyed before; I had to learn to sit still and let the rider be in control, not always easy.
The number of men and women standing around the Prez before the ride was huge, the car parking lights were on, and his bike gleamed in the light. Words of praise over his motorcycle were huge, and it made me feel good inside, seeing all the happy smiling faces at this time of the morning, even the grumps were smiling, well, as much as a grump can.
Tank looked over, but didn’t bother to get involved with the surrounding crowd. Tank had seen the bike at different stages as I painted it, and only saw it before I put the final clear coat on; he just hadn’t seen it put back together, which I am positive he will check out while we ride. He had held on to different parts and moved them around in the light, getting a good look at them, closer than any of the guys hovering around the bikes would ever get to see.
I waited for Tank to do his thing. I had noticed each rider liked their chick differently: Grandpa would climb on, start the bike, then offer me a ride behind him; Tank straddled the bike and wanted me on before he even started it. This was odd, but as a passenger, I did as the rider instructed.
I felt the bike vibrate between my legs as Tank started it and kept the revs up a little to warm it up. He had settled in front of me, and I was a little surprised that I had room back here, and not squished, as I had thought, with him being such a massive giant of a man.
He rubbed the thigh of my right leg, almost like he was making sure I was there. Maybe he doesn’t get passengers very often. That was a nice thought that made me feel a little bit more special to him.
Tank took off, getting up close to Prez, and I guess, hierarchy riding, as I had not paid much attention to what formation they rode in before. It was never on my radar, but I found it fascinating.
It was not a fast ride to start with, as we went through towns early in the morning at low speed. Slower than I had expected from a group eager to get out on the road. But the Prez kept them restrained.
When we got away from the main area, away from the most significant part of the residential area, the throttle was opened up, and we started to ride like I had expected, fast. I loved it. Snuggled against Tank’s back for a while, watching the scenery go by, getting the feel of how he rides, how he takes corners, and trying to relax and enjoy the ride.
I was protected back here, no wind in my face.
After we finished the winding road that leads out of our town, one of my favorite parts of entering our small town was leaning low to the ground, watching it rush up to you fast. The thrill when your bike sends out sparks, because you got that low.
Tank rubbed my thigh, and I moved to look over his shoulder. We had some more sharp corners coming up, something I love, but with us being on the gutter side of the road, just back from the lead bike, I had never had to stay in a formation before. Staying in this line was different, and I was watching where Tank remained on the road. He was good; he never once seemed to struggle to maintain his position. It flowed with precision, and I loved watching it. I was never one who liked to ride on the edge of the road, yet Tank made it seem effortless, staying within two feet of the edge nearly all the time.
I looked over my shoulder and noticed most of the others were keeping close; one slipped up, and many would go down. The trust in the other rider to stay true to the line led some to keep a little distance from the one in front. I could only see a few riders behind us, as we had a good group here.
The sun had risen, and I was getting a dry mouth.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.