I took a deep breath, hands trembling a little as I eyed the massive black motorcycle gleaming under the garage lights—Ana's pride and joy, all chrome curves and raw power. Straddling it felt huge, like climbing a wild animal. Helmet snug, gloves on, I gripped the handlebars tight, heart thumping loud.
"Ana, I'm scared," I admitted, voice small, glancing back at her standing there arms crossed, cyan ponytail catching the light.
"You have to be more confident, Emily—fake it until you make it," Reyes cut in, striding up fresh from patrol, her scarred face set stern. She'd overheard our deal somehow, leather jacket still dusty from the road. "Maybe I should teach her instead. I've ridden beasts like this through warzones."
"Reyes, please—I already promised Ana something big for this lesson," I pleaded quick, caught between them, cheeks heating at the memory of my dress-up deal.
