Until We End by Frankie Brown Page B

saw that the warehouse was nearly pitch-dark. A tiny rustling came from the curtains. The scrape of the rings against metal piping. Soft footsteps crept toward the bed. My throat went tight with fear.
    I held my breath and clenched my fists. I’d be ready if someone attacked me.
    Instead, all I heard was the crinkling of plastic and something small dropped onto the bed beside me. Then the footsteps started walking away.
    I opened my eyes a little wider, straining against the darkness. There was only enough light for me to see Brooks’ back. After he pulled the curtain shut behind him, I turned over to see what he’d left on the bed.
    It was a candy bar. Milk chocolate with caramel.

Chapter Fourteen
    I couldn’t help feeling awkward the next morning. Brooks didn’t know that I saw him leave the chocolate bar, but I still couldn’t meet his eye. He seemed happy to ignore me from his armchair, too.
    â€œWe’ll take the bikes into town,” Lu said as she sat on the vomit green couch.
    My head snapped up. “We’re going back into town? Why?”
    Lu and Jackson exchanged a glance. “We need more information on the army’s sweeps.”
    â€œI thought you’d found out everything you needed to know. The cameras are why the military’s been more active. That’s why they caught me.”
    â€œThat’s not all we need to know,” Lu said as if that closed the matter.
    â€œAnd I have to go with you.”
    â€œYes,” Jackson said.
    Lonnie stood from where he’d been sitting on the floor and stretched. “You’ll love the bikes, Janie. They’re so much fun!”
    For some reason, when they said bikes I thought bicycles. Not the case. When we walked outside, I saw what they’d meant by
bikes.
Four slim motorcycles with tires made for off-roading were leaning against the raised concrete platform that surrounded the warehouse.
    â€œDirt bikes,” Lonnie said brightly.
    â€œGreat.”
    Hang on. I counted the bikes again. Four. “Who am I riding with?” I turned to face Lonnie with a hopeful expression. “You?”
    He cringed. “Sorry, Janie. I can barely keep
myself
on a bike, much less anyone else.”
    Brooks strode to one of the bikes, a navy blue one, and our eyes met. I blinked and was transported to two days before, in my truck. Breathing him in, with his lips on my skin.
    I think he was there with me.
    He broke the stare with a smile. “Hop on, sweetheart.”
    â€œUm, no.”
    â€œYou could ride with Jackson.”
    Jackson revved his engine on cue.
    No thank you. He’d probably crash the bike hoping it’d kill me. I clenched the straps of my ever-present backpack and walked up beside Brooks.
    â€œWhat are you waiting for?” he asked.
    â€œI’m not sure... you know... how to get on.” My face was probably fire hydrant red. But there wasn’t much room on the bike and if I was going to ride with him, then I’d have to get up close —
really
close — and personal.
    I raised my eyes to his. In the sunlight, his white-blond hair seemed to glow and his eyes turned gold. “Swing your leg over,” he said, “and straddle the bike.”
    Sweet Jesus. How did he make that sound so suggestive? Maybe I could get through it with minimal contact. I tugged the hem of my butchered t-shirt down, shuffled closer, and swung my leg over like he told me, but I was trying so hard not to touch him I lost my balance. Brooks’ hand on my rib steadied me. His touch sent an electric shock through me, making my breath catch.
    â€œWrap your arms around my waist,” he said. “And don’t let go.” He turned around before I had the chance to look at his face.
    I slid my arms around his waist. The bike was so small that I had to lean my cheek against his shoulder blade. It was impossible not to feel the muscles of his abdomen through his shirt’s thin