If I Break by Portia Moore Read Free Book Online

surprised by my response but puts on his sunglasses and takes the helmet back.
    “Hold on to what?” I don’t see any railing or handles.
    “To me,” he answers. I see his smile widen in the mirror. Duh, Lauren! I laugh at myself, and I hesitantly put my hands on both sides of his waist and try to brace my legs on both sides of the bike.
    “Ready?” he asks.
    “Yeah,” I reply. I hear the bike start, and my heart starts to pound. He pulls out of the parking lot with ease, and our speed is pretty slow. This isn’t too bad.
    “This isn’t that bad. I was a little scared,” I admit.
    “Just wait.” A few moments later, he turns onto the freeway, and we speed off. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. The space that was between us is now gone. I’ve involuntarily scooted as close to him as I can, my arms as tight as they can go around his waist. After a few minutes of being scared to pieces I feel like I’m flying.
    “This is great!” I yell, laughing.
    He nods his head. “It’s the closest thing to flying while you’re on the ground!” I look at the sunset. It’s absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe I haven’t done this before. I’m on a bike, going at least 70 mph with a man I don’t know much about. What I do know is that I haven’t been this at ease with anyone in a very long time.
    ***
    “I can’t believe you got me on the back of a motorcycle and bungee jumping in the same day,” I say with a laugh, taking a fry and dipping it into some ketchup.
    He just smiles and bites into his hamburger.
    I try to look at him without staring. I expected a totally different type of man. I mean, the expensive suit, the VIP section of the club, seemingly manicured hands and styled hair—it didn’t exactly scream motorcycle riding and bungee jumping.
    “You’re different than I expected,” I confess.
    He looks up at me with an arched brow and a smile playing on his lips. “You mean between me back at the club and now?”
    “Yes.” I smile.
    “Is that a bad thing?” he asks, those incredible eyes flirting with me.
    “No! It’s just—you surprised me. I mean, when I first saw you at the club, I didn’t expect for you to be the outdoorsy, leather-jacket-and-jeans-wearing type, I guess.” He doesn’t say anything but flashes that million-dollar smile of his.
    “So what other amazing things do you do?” I run my hand through my tangled hair, free from its earlier braid. I wonder if he can tell how nervous I am. He opens his mouth to say something and then stops.
    “What?” I notice his slight hesitation.
    “Never mind. You’ve already given me this bad rep in your head. So I’ll keep my thoughts to myself,” he says me, feigning hurt feelings.
    “Now my curiosity is quite piqued, sir. I’m sure it won’t change my view of you in any way. Tell me,” I demand playfully.
    He arches his brow and leans in, and I follow his lead, as if he’s about to tell me a secret.
    “I’d rather show you, but I think you’re the type of girl that would require a few more dates before that happens.”
    I feel my mouth fall open. Is he referring to what I think he’s referring to? He’s watching me, waiting for my reaction. I decide not to push it any further, at least not directly.
    “My roommate Hillary was a little irritated that you didn’t speak to her earlier.” I change the subject, wanting to know his thoughts.
    “She’s not used to a guy ignoring her the way you did.”
    “I’m sure she’s not,” he chuckles, and I arch my brow, questioning. “But I’m not like most guys. It takes more than big tits and a face full of makeup to get my attention,” he adds naturally. I’m a little taken aback by his frankness. He notices.
    “I just mean that there’s nothing original about that. I see it every day. She’s a cute girl, but I’ve seen her type.”
    “And what exactly is her type?” I ask irritation evident in my voice. Hillary and I see things through different eyes and we