Celia

21 You'll Get Used To It

Gio

Damn, she's beautiful.

Curled in the passenger seat, feet on the dashboard. Basking in the sun, facing the window. Hand under her chin, grazing her neck with absentminded fingers.

Completely ignoring me.

All because I don't want her to be a criminal.

Stubborn little shit, I can't even stay mad at her.

How can I? She's so small. If I flick her, she'll probably get a concussion.

"Why are you smiling like that?" she snaps.

I ignore her and turn up the music, bobbing my head just to annoy her even more.

She rolls her eyes and looks away, but there's a small blush to her cheeks. About forty minutes later, I park the truck at a small shopping center.

"A motorcycle shop?" she reads the storefront sign of the store I lead her up to.

"Let's get you a helmet," I say casually.

"What?"

"I want to get you a helmet that's your size. You keep asking me to take you on a ride and I've been saying no because you don't have a helmet." I beckon her as she gapes at me. "Come on."

I open the door and wait for her to walk in, following behind her. About six or seven men around the store turn their heads, immediately noticing Celia.

That's... annoying.

I put my hand on her lower back and hurry her to the women's section in the right corner.

"Pick whichever you want." I stop her by the helmets and step aside so she doesn't feel rushed, but stay near enough to keep an eye on her.

She throws me a hesitant, wide-eyed glance and I nod reassuringly, leaning against the wall. Celia peels her gaze back at the wall, raking her eyes up and down the helmet options.

Her fingers brush across one in a turquoise color, then a white one, gliding across the shiny surface with a dance-like grace. She stands on her tip-toes to reach for one above her head, so dainty with her blue skirt and slender figure around all this heavy leather.

"You like that one?" I approach, taking the matte black helmet. It has a white silhouette of flying birds in the corners. "You're probably a small..."

I put the medium sized one back and grab a couple of other ones with the same design until I find the right one. I give it to Celia and help her put it on, then she stands in front of the wall-length mirror and looks at herself.

"Do you like it?" I ask when she doesn't say anything after a couple of seconds.

"Do you?" She looks at me, tone uncertain.

I put my hand on top of her helmet with a gentle smile, then shake the helmet around, making her  throw her arms out and stumble on her feet.

"Do you want it?" I laugh, letting her go.

"Yes, but I'll pay for it," she huffs and just leaves me, stalking in the opposite direction.

After I regain my composure, I dart after her to the left side of the store by the men's section.

Three or four men sneak glances at her, but she doesn't seem to notice. Her attention is on the rack of brown leather jackets in the corner.

"What are you doing?" I ask and stand behind her, close enough for the men around to mind their damn fucking business.