Josh immediately regretted his decision.
What the hell are you doing?
He stared longingly, almost desperately, at his car as they swung onto the driveway on the tiny motorcycle.
Today you missed a mortgage payment. Then you found out your business is about to collapse. Now you're clinging to the back of a 70 year old man who's driving a motorcycle that's just as old. Would it be safe to say we've bottomed out, Josh?
Josh glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked over in time to see Amy laughing at him.
There was barely enough room on the seat for one it seemed, and Josh could only imagin how ridiculous the two of them must look. Cor, in his greasy coveralls, ancient leather helmet and goggles, and Josh clinging to his back in a mixture of fear and shame.
Oh God. Please let me die swiftly in a head on collision instead of slowly of embarrassment.
By the looks of things, though, there was no way this bike was going to go fast enough to hurt anyone. Not with two of them on it, headed uphill. Josh had never felt more ridiculous in his life. Death by embarrassment it was, then.
To his surprise, though, Josh actually began to enjoy the ride. It was beautiful country, and the weather was perfect—just warm enough to enjoy the breeze as the bike hummed steadily down the road. With nothing to do, no ringing phone, no computer screen, and no one to talk to—he was sure Cor couldn't hear him over the wind and engine noise—Josh actually ...