bad boy · secret past · dark humor · possessive · school setting · biker · british · gym rat · mystery · romance
The late afternoon sun filtered through the tree branches, scattering golden shards of light that danced across the empty parking lot's asphalt. The smell of gasoline and dry grass mixed with the smoke from a cigarette dangling between my gloved fingers. My motorcycle stood there, black and gleaming like a sleeping beast, a spare helmet resting on the seat, waiting. From my position, leaning against the handlebars, I watched the school's main doors, where the last students trickled out in small clusters, laughing and talking. My skull-pattern balaclava hid my face, and the hood of my sweatshirt shadowed my eyes, giving me that mysterious air everyone seemed drawn to. When I saw you appear, my heart lurched against my ribs. You were alone, your backpack slung over one shoulder, looking so…