In the bright light of midmorning, Nella showered and readied herself as quietly as possible, because Lucas and Danielle were still crashed on her couch.

She wished she'd simply agreed to meet him at the coffee shop. What was the point of him coming here, except some old-fashioned notion of picking her up for a date? And why didn't she have his number, so she could text him to alter the plan? She felt mildly powerless and slightly annoyed. She stood in her tiny kitchen waiting for him to alert her he was downstairs when a knock at her door made her jump.

The smell of ink and Baz flooded her as she opened the door, and her irritation faded as she took him in from bottom to top—black boots, ripped jeans, v-neck tee, Nocturne tucked away too much for her liking, half a smile, and a sandy, glossy undercut. Compared to his smirk, her own smile felt too large. She reined it in and squinted at him. "How did you get in the lobby without a key card?"

His blue eyes twinkled. "You haven't figured out already that I'm a resourceful guy?"

She snorted. "I've figured out that you could charm snakes."

"Compared to snakes, hungover college kids aren't much of a challenge." His gaze was traveling over her, just as she had checked him out. She was in shorts again—white this time, with a dark tank and cropped olive jacket—but his gaze lingered on her legs and she wondered if he, like her, was imagining them wrapped around his torso as they moved together.

His eyes met hers and he clicked his tongue bar like he knew exactly what she was thinking. "You look great. I'm getting the vibe that all-nighters must agree with you."

Nella laughed at his double entendre. "We should go before we wake up Dani and Lucas. They crashed here."

"Too late," Dani mumbled from the couch, and that's when Nella noticed her friends were no longer end to end but spooned together. Dani pulled the blanket over their heads and grumbled in a low voice to Lucas, but whatever he said back sounded more like a soothing murmur.

Baz avoided staring at them and glanced into the kitchen instead. "No cookies?" he teased.

Lucas jerked the covers away from his face. "She bakes drunk; she writes sober. You must learn our ways if you want to join our tribe. And also, you know... there's a special ceremony..."

"Let me guess... tribal tats?" Baz drawled.

"Watch yourself," Lucas grinned at him. "I'm the funny guy around here."

"You're so not," Dani muttered.

"Bet I can make you giggle." Lucas covered them again with the blanket. Nella pushed Baz into the hall and shut the door behind her.

"They're a couple?" Baz asked as they walked down the hall.

"Hmm...we've always been more of a trio."

One eyebrow raised in challenge. "Excuse me?"

"Not like that!" she swatted at him. "I meant, we're like the Three Musketeers. Them messing around is new."

"Thanks for the clarification," he said, without a hint of a smile as he punched the elevator button. "I'm not into sharing."

There was a hint of possession in his tone, and something in her made her push back. "I don't think of myself as an object to be shared. Nor am I a darlin', by the way."

"Not an object, nor a darlin. Tell me, are you a Princess?"

"Not even a little bit," she glared at him, but his grin was big, enjoying her reaction.

"How about a Sweetheart? Baby? Honey? Sugar? Don't like any of those?" he teased her as they rode the elevator down. He opened the lobby door for her, still picking at her. "I guess you prefer something more original. How about NellaCruella? Can I call you that?"

"Why does a woman either have to be a damsel in distress or a bitch? Why can't she just be her unique self?"

"Ah. There she is. I was wondering when I was going to meet the feminist grad student. Let's go, Ms. Independent. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how to get on a bike."

Nella felt all her bravado melt into a puddle of jangly nerves as Baz approached a hulking, shiny motorcycle. She touched the handlebar. "It's been a long time since I've been on a bike. My dad sold his when I was a little girl. After my mom died in an accident."

Baz moved immediately, putting himself between her and the machine as if to shield her from looking at it. "Christ. Nella, I'm so sorry. I had no idea your mom died in a motorcycle crash. Obviously, we don't have to ride—"

She shook her head, her gaze lowered between them. "No, she didn't die in a motorcycle accident. She was in a car, but my dad got super safety conscious after that. Still, there is risk in everything, and I think... I would like to go for a ride with you."

Baz cupped her cheek, rubbing gently with his thumb. "Are you sure? We can walk. Or take your car."

One of her most vivid memories from early childhood was seeing her mother on the back of her dad's bike, a full floral skirt tucked around her, dust kicking up behind them down a country lane. She wanted to know what it felt like to be a woman with a man on a bike—wild hearts pressed together, the machine beneath them racing to catch up.

"I'm sure. Country roads always brought my mom and dad home safe on the bike."

"We'll take it slow." He popped the boot, pulling a helmet from it. An exotic floral design in blacks, blues, and violets flowed around the white helmet. More ink, Nella noted.

He was solemn as he gripped the helmet with his long, graceful fingers. All his teasing had evaporated, and although Nella appreciated his empathy, she felt a little hollow in the cavernous silence between them. "Do I want to know how many other women have worn this helmet?" she said, trying to restore the playful mood.

He rose to meet her above the sad moment. He tucked the helmet under one arm, scratched his beard, cocked a sexy eyebrow. "Do you really care, Ms. Independent?"

"Not at all," she assured him.

He fitted the helmet on her head, twisting and tucking her hair up in a practiced move. "You wear it better than all the other girls," he grinned.

"I bet you say that every time."

"You would lose that bet."

Baz swung onto the bike and steadied it for her, and she climbed on awkwardly. He reached back and patted her bare calf. "Watch that exhaust pipe. It can give you a nasty burn."

He pushed a button to start the bike, and she felt the machine fire to life between her legs. The hollow sensation gave way to a new one.

Wow, it was loud. But that vibration...

Huh. Okay. She could see why girls liked to ride.

It was a long moment before Nella realized they weren't moving. He looked back at her, and she gave him an awkward thumbs up. His helmet shook from side to side. He grabbed her hands and dragged them around to his chest, pulling her close. Nella could feel her heart pounding against his back and wondered if he could feel it, too.

Then they were slicing through time and feeling as the bike shot them forward. Nella forgot everything but the vibration and the rush of wind and the gentle leaning and Baz's solid, steady bulk shielding her pounding heart.

He took the back road around the campus perimeter, arcing the bike gracefully through the curves. The trees were tall and near to the road. The sun dropped through the canopy, splattering them with bright pleasure. It was a magic ride... an adventure that ended all too soon.

They didn't go right away for coffee, but to the tattoo shop. Baz pulled the bike into the alley behind.

"Well?" he asked, as he helped her off with her helmet. "Thoughts on your virgin ride?"

Apparently, this guy loved teasing her. Apparently, her blood loved rushing to her cheeks in response.

"It was good, but I've had more memorable rides," she teased back, keeping her voice cool, even if her face wasn't.

"I wonder if we're talking about the same one," he grinned. They were both thinking of her couch, she was pretty sure.

He ushered her through the back door into the tiny storeroom. The air was ice cold compared to the warm spring weather. She shivered slightly.

"So why are we here at your tattoo shop?"

"So you can meet the first of my character witnesses."

Baz opened the shop door and led her through, where a tan guy in a motorcycle cut with scruffy blonde good looks knelt before a pretty girl in a floral romper, sliding a flip-flop carefully on her foot. He adjusted the strap over her new foot tat and squeezed the girl's ankle.

He flashed a gorgeous white smile as the girl's hand went subconsciously to her heart. "Thank you," she said breathlessly.

The scene recalled Cinderella. Apparently, Nella wasn't the only one who had that thought, because Baz laughed and said, "Okay Prince Charming, give the lady her foot back."

The younger guy rose fluidly as he gave the girl his card and a wink. "Don't forget to keep the ointment on it. And... call me."

The guy watched the girl appreciatively as she left the shop. When she disappeared down the street, he slung around to them. "Let's trade, Baz. You can come home, and return to your hermit ways, and I'll work this satellite shop."

Baz slapped him on the shoulder and gave a negating head shake. "The female population of Tate Olliver is not ready for you, Hunt."

Baz introduced Prince Charming as Hunter Hanlon, his younger cousin, and explained that Hunt's father, Trigger, had funded the startup of this shop and owned the original Dreamweavers in their hometown.

"So you don't normally work at this shop?" Nella asked Hunter.

"Naw. Baz is having some kind of crisis and needed the day off." He leaned against the reception counter. "Now I get it. You're one helluva crisis. If Baz can't solve your... problem... maybe I can help you."

Nella laughed out loud at this kid, whose confidence was only exceeded by his good looks.

Baz kicked out Hunter's knee, making him stumble, then slapped the back of his movie-star hair. "Knock it off. Nella is a new friend. She let me borrow a book, and someone took it from my place. We don't know each other that well, so it's a bit of a sticky situation. You're supposed to vouch for me, not try to steal her out from under me."

"Why don't you just replace the book, man?" Hunter shook his phone at Baz. "Amazon. One click, two days, no brainer."

"It's not that kind of book. She—"

"Had it for a long time," Nella interjected. "It's... rare... and has sentimental value."

"Ah, I get it now. Well, my cuz here is not as sketch as he looks," Hunter grinned. "Like he hardly ever stole shit when we were kids. I mean, except for beer and cigarettes, but that's only because they wouldn't sell them to us."

"Hunt's seven years younger than me. When I was stealing cigarettes, he was practically in diapers. I did not contribute to his delinquency at a tender age."

"Baz is not a thief, but he is a liar. He bought this for me today." Hunt grabbed the only personal item in the shop—a backpack—and pulled it open to reveal a handle of whiskey. Then, he handed Baz a thick envelope from the bag which Baz put in his back pocket. The exchange was a little weird, a little too casual, but Nella was too polite to ask.

Baz pushed Hunt. Hunt shoved back, and they laughed as they scuffled. "I bought that as a thank you for covering my shift, asswipe." Baz had him in a headlock. "I swear, I never corrupted him when he was a kid. He's practically twenty-one, now," he explained to Nella. He gave Hunt a noogie and released him. "And you're supposed to be a character witness, not make me look bad."

Hunt slapped Baz on the back. "Hand to God. Baz is the best fucking dude I know. But he's a dumbass for wasting his day off like this. If you were my girl, I could think of better ways to prove myself to you," he winked.

Nella fluttered a hand in front of her face and pretended to swoon. "Baz, you better get me away from Hunter before I can't walk out under my own power."

Baz and Hunt exchanged one more fake scuffle, and Baz hustled her back into the storeroom.

"I guess undeniable charm is a Hanlon trait?"

"You tell me."

He smiled down at her, and she returned the gesture. They drew together, moving closer and closer in mutual agreement. Nella had the odd thought that maybe somewhere in that night they shared, one smile had become dependent upon the other. That scared her more than anything she had felt in a long time.

She was always letting her happiness get too wrapped up in other people. Like her father. Like Captain Asshat.

She turned her face from Baz and shivered again in the cold storeroom. Baz backed away.

"So, this is a no-go between you and me? For real?" he whispered.

"If it were, I wouldn't be here right now," she said. "But you should know... I've only got a few more months here at Tate Olliver. I don't know what happens when I graduate, but I'll be leaving Coaling Springs. It's not the best timing to start seeing someone. And I know last night I said I wanted to slow things down, and now I'm saying I don't have that long here in Coaling Springs, so I don't want to..."

"Lead me on? I'm a big boy, Nella. You definitely don't have to worry about hustling my heart. I think I can work within your boundaries..." He reached out and placed his hands on her hips, an arching eyebrow inviting her to make the next move.

She stepped closer to him, almost against her will, hooking her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. "So we can be... friends?"

"Friends like your buddies Dani and Lucas?" he murmured, as his hands slid around her waist to her lower back. "Friends with no expectations, but friends who like spending time together? And if it feels right, if it becomes more than that in some moments, that's cool, too?"

"Something like that," she murmured.

He nodded. "And what about this moment?"

She raised up on tip-toes, pressing her lips to his, thrilling at the way his hands worked up her back, fitting them together as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She let him slip his tongue into her mouth, sighing against the feel of his tongue bar. He groaned as she sucked it, while she thrilled at the wonderfulness of his hard and soft kiss.

Then it was over. He was releasing her, and she was confused about whether she was pleased or not by that fact.

Pleased, she decided. Baz was trying to do what she asked. Slow down. Get to know each other.

"All good?" he teased her, his eyes twinkling.

"All good," she confirmed. "I guess we should talk about how I get my book back. I have a theory about what happened."

He scratched his head. "Yeah, I was thinking about that, too. I know you said we should talk about it over coffee, but maybe you would like to see the scene of the crime? Jayson's home. You can meet him, and we can talk more about opportunity and motive..."

She had her own theory that cast Mitchell as more of a book-rescuer than thief, but Baz was so earnest about solving this mystery, it almost felt like her theory would be a major spoiler to him, in more ways than one. Part of her wasn't quite ready to fill in all the blanks for him.

"Okay, let's play detectives!" she said cheerfully.

He opened the back door for her. "After you, Ms. Independent."