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I slide off the bike, trying not to look like a newborn foal finding its legs, but my thighs are wobbly. Turns out gripping onto Robbie for dear life uses different muscles than galloping across a field on horseback.

Robbie takes off his helmet and glances over his shoulder at me, a few strands of dark hair falling across his eyes. He flicks them back with one swift movement, like he’s part motorcyclist, part shampoo advert. “So? What did you think of your first ride? Bit of an adrenaline high, eh?”

I tug off my helmet and shake out my hair. “It was fine,” I say with a nonchalant shrug, even as my heart still pounds from the thrill.

Smirking, Robbie climbs off the motorcycle. “Fine? You nearly squeezed the life out of me back there. You were glued to me tighter than a limpet on a rock.”

My cheeks warm, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Seeing as I went on your bike,” I say instead, “I’ll have to get you on a horse at some point.”

“Me on a horse? Nah, not happening.”

Robbie secures his helmet onto the lock by the rear wheel, tucks mine in the saddlebag, then we set off along a narrow path that leads into the woods bordering the viewpoint. The trees provide welcome shade from the August sun, and I reach out to brush my fingers against leaves as we make our way along.

For a moment, I think about my parents and how as a family we’d take walks like this when I was wee. I’d sit atop my da’s shoulders, feeling like I could almost touch the highest branch, or maybe even the sky. I’d give anything for just one more of those carefree afternoons.

To distract myself, I clear my throat. “So, about clearing your name⁠—”

“Let’s not talk about that right now. We came out here to take a break, remember?”

“Aye, okay.”

The path narrows, forcing us to walk closer together. Even with the leafy branches overhead sheltering us, the day is warming up, and I remove my jacket and tie it around my waist. Robbie follows suit, shrugging off his leather one and tossing it casually over one shoulder. In his white T-shirt and jeans, he looks like he’s stepped straight out of a 1950s film, all brooding intensity and barely contained rebellion.

“What should we talk about, then?” I ask after a moment of side ogling. Inspiration strikes, and I click my fingers. “Oh, I know! Did it hurt like hell to get a bit of metal put through your penis?”

Robbie lets out a laugh so sudden and deep it startles a pair of birds from the branches above, sending them flapping into the sky. It makes me want to keep tossing out ridiculous questions just to coax another sinful rumble from him.

“You know what, let’s not talk about that either.”

I grin cheekily. “We have to talk about something, and you’re shutting down every topic I’m suggesting. If you won’t let me grill you about your piercings, what do you want to chat about, then?”

“How about nothing below the waist?”

I roll my eyes then nudge his shoulder playfully. “Fine. But since we’re not talking about that”—I gesture vaguely towards his crotch—“how about we talk about your driving? Maybe it just felt fast because I’m not used to motorcycles, or maybe it was because you were going way over the speed limit.”

“Jesus, what is this? An interrogation? I’m a good rider. And a safe one.”

“Er, you do remember I was holding on to you like my life depended on it, right?”

“You were enjoying yourself.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t speeding. And given the whole”—I wave my hand—“police investigation thingy you’ve got going on, maybe it’s not the best time to be racking up tickets.”

“Fair point. Actually, a week or so ago I was going pretty fast when I passed one of those mobile speed vans. Didn’t see it until too late. Wouldn’t be surprised if I get a fine through the post.”

I groan. “And that’s going to help your case how, exactly? ‘Sorry, officer, I didn’t steal anything, but aye, I might have done ninety in a sixty.’ Brilliant.”

“Just because I was going a bit over the speed limit doesn’t mean I steal things from people.”

“No, but it doesn’t paint you as Mr Law-Abiding Citizen either. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m upset today because I’ve been thinking about my parents, who I lost in a traffic accident. I’d rather the same thing didn’t happen to you.”

Robbie’s expression softens. “Shit, you’re right. Sorry.” He runs a hand through his dark hair.

“Besides, I’d hate for you to get a driving ban now I’ve discovered I don’t completely hate clinging to your back and pretending I’m some badass biker chick.”

Robbie raises one eyebrow, his piercing glinting in the dappled sunlight. “Sounds like you think this’ll become a regular thing.”

I shoot him a shameless wink. “Maybe it will.”