Seth

"Good morning, sunshine," Seth said as she approached, her sour expression already daring him to keep talking. "Ready to seize the day with your new and improved instructor?"

"Do you ever shut up?" she snapped, crossing her arms. "Especially this early?"

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk barely faltering. "Not when I've got someone like you to entertain me. Looks like someone skipped their morning coffee."

Freya glared at him, her jaw tightening. "If anyone's got an attitude here, it's you," she shot back. "You think you're so charming. You're not."

"Wow," Seth said, his tone dripping with mock disbelief. "What crawled up your ass this morning? You're usually annoying, but this is a new level."

Freya rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "So, what's the plan?" she asked flatly, her voice devoid of enthusiasm.

"That you're going to ride the bike, obviously," he said, gesturing toward the gleaming machine nearby.

"No shit," she muttered under her breath, her tone laced with irritation.

"Did you even have breakfast? You're giving off some serious low-blood-sugar vibes here," he quipped, smirking.

She didn't respond, but her scowl deepened, and it was starting to grate on him.

"Mood swings? Menstrual cycle?" he asked with a smug grin, knowing it would hit a nerve.

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "Fuck off, Harlow," she snapped, spinning around and turning her back on him. "Maybe this isn't going to work at all," she muttered, just loud enough for him to catch it.

Seth let out a sharp sigh, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer. "Look, just take this and stop whining," he said, holding out the extra helmet.

She turned to him, her reluctance palpable, but after a moment, she snatched the helmet from his hand.

"Get on. I promise this ride will be better than the last," he said, though his voice was sharper now, the softness replaced with impatience.

Her hands trembled slightly as she climbed onto the bike behind him.

"You scared?" he asked, tilting his head back toward her with a smirk.

"No," she said, gripping the back of his jacket.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," he muttered under his breath.

~*~*~*~*~

They'd stopped by a motorsport store—or rather, he had. She'd made it clear she didn't want to spend more time with him than absolutely necessary, so she stayed outside while he picked out the right gear for her.

When Seth stepped out of the store, he found Freya standing stiffly by the bike, her arms crossed. She looked more annoyed than usual, which he hadn't thought was possible.

"Here," he said, shoving the bag toward her.

She peeked inside, her face unreadable. "They look big," she said flatly, not bothering to meet his eyes.

"I grabbed what I thought would fit," he said, irritation creeping into his voice. "You could've made it easier by coming in and trying it on instead of sulking out here."

"Whatever," she muttered, pulling the pants out. "They'll probably fit."

He let out a sharp sigh. "You could at least pretend to appreciate it. This is expensive gear."

Freya's glare sharpened. "Why should I thank you? I don't even want to do this. And let's not act like you're paying for all the horse gear you're using with Nova."

His patience snapped. "You agreed to the bet, Freya. If you've got second thoughts, that's not my problem."

"Fine. Forget I said anything," she muttered, slipping on the jacket. Neither the jacket nor the pants were too big—they fit perfectly, hugging her figure in a way that made Seth glance away, annoyed with himself.

"See? Perfect fit," he said dryly, motioning toward the rest of the gear. "Now try the boots and gloves so we can get this over with."

She did as he asked, testing the fit before glancing up at him. "Fair enough—you're not as useless at this as I thought. Everything fits."

He rolled his eyes. "Glad I could impress you," he said sarcastically.

She caught her reflection in the store window, checking herself out in the gear. She looked too good, and that was a problem. 

~*~*~*~*~

Freya

He had taken them to an empty, expansive parking lot on the outskirts of town. A vacant building loomed nearby, but thankfully, there were no other cars or people around to distract her.

Freya climbed off the beast of a bike, her legs shaky as she tried to steady herself. The machine radiated heat and menace even at a standstill. She already hated it with every fiber of her being. At least Seth had kept his promise to drive slower this time—not that it made her like him any more.

Seth tilted his head toward her, his smirk almost lazy. "Ready for a walkthrough, or do you need another moment to mentally prepare?"

Freya shot him a glare. "I'm here, aren't I?"

His smirk widened. "Barely."

Her stomach twisted as she mounted the bike, this time in the driver's seat. It felt enormous, heavier than she'd expected, and she struggled to adjust her grip on the handlebars. Everything about it screamed danger.

"All right, let's start with the basics," Seth said, his tone clipped but calm. "This is the clutch lever. You pull it in to disconnect the engine from the rear wheel—do it wrong, and you'll stall or worse."

Freya gritted her teeth. "Got it."

He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing. "You don't even know what that means yet. Don't say 'got it.'"

Her jaw tightened. "Fine. Explain it again."

"Clutch," he repeated, his voice sharper this time as he pointed to the left handlebar. "Throttle here," he added, twisting the right handle. "Turn it gently, unless you're aiming to launch yourself off the back."

"Charming," she muttered under her breath.

Seth ignored her comment. "Brakes: right hand for the front brake, right foot for the rear. And for God's sake, don't just slam the front brake unless you feel like flipping over the handlebars." He gave her leg a quick tap for emphasis. "Rear brake is your best friend. Remember that."

Her heart pounded as she nodded, the weight of his instructions pressing down on her. She hated how smug he sounded, even when he wasn't trying to be.

"Got it so far?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience.

"Yes," she said, gripping the handlebars tighter.

"Do you?" he pressed, leaning forward. "Because if you're just nodding to shut me up, you're going to regret it the second this thing moves."

Freya clenched her teeth. "I said I got it."

"Sure," he muttered, his tone dripping with doubt.

He reached under her helmet, tilting her face up slightly so her eyes were forward. The unexpected gesture made her breath hitch, but the irritation in his voice broke whatever effect it had.

"Stop staring at the controls like they're going to do the work for you. Where you look is where you'll go. Eyes forward, always."

Freya forced herself to focus on the horizon, ignoring the heat creeping up her neck.

"You've got this, Lynn," Seth added, though his tone had a harder edge now. "It's not rocket science. The bike only does what you tell it to. A hell of a lot easier than a horse throwing you off because it feels like it."

She let out a sharp laugh, mostly from nerves. "Right, because controlling 200 kilograms of roaring metal is super intuitive."

"It is if you stop overthinking," Seth snapped. "You're making it harder than it is."

"Maybe because it is hard," she shot back, her voice trembling slightly.

He exhaled sharply, straightening up. "Whatever. Just try it."

Freya hesitated, releasing the clutch too quickly. The bike jerked forward violently, startling her.

"What just happened?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"You didn't listen. That's what happened," Seth said, crossing his arms. "I told you—slower. You're not wrestling the damn thing."

She glared at him. "I'm trying!"

"Try harder," he said flatly.

Her grip tightened on the handlebars as she tried again, this time easing the clutch more carefully. The bike rolled forward smoothly, and a jolt of exhilaration shot through her.

"It's moving! I'm doing it!" she shouted through her helmet.

"Yeah, at the speed of a grandma's walker," Seth muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on his face. "Keep your eyes forward. You're going to tip if you keep staring down like that."

After a few more attempts, she was slowly making her way around the lot, though the tension in her shoulders hadn't eased.

"You've got the basics now," Seth said, his voice calm again. "But don't get cocky. This is barely step one."

Freya let out a shaky laugh, adrenaline still coursing through her. "If I die, just make sure Danielle gets Nova. And tell him I love him."

"Wow, priorities," Seth shot back with a smirk. "Should I tell Danielle you love her too, or is it all about the horse?"

"Obviously, her too," she snapped, her face heating as she realized she'd prioritized a goodbye to her horse over her best friend.

"Good to know where everyone stands. Hope Nova appreciates being your number one," he added, his tone dripping with mockery.