The Truth About Mila | Mayans M.C.

| Goddess of Mischief |

The Truth About Mila || MMC

"Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou wilt."

~ William Shakespeare.

~

"I don't think I can do this," Mila shook like a tree in the middle of December. Her heart thumps against her chest as Coco tuck the straps of his helmet underneath her chin. Brave Mila Galindo might be, motorcycles weren't her thing. "This is insane."

Coco smirks once the strap is secured underneath her jaw. He reaches above her head and gently smacks the top of the helmet. This causes Mila to slightly bend her knees from the force.

"Ain't nothin' to be afraid of, princess. Riding is like flying." Coco pulls his riding gloves on his hands. Those chocolate brown eyes dug into hers. "Think of yourself as a bird. Free. Free and safe from the world. Nothing can touch you."

"People die from motorcycle accidents. In 2017, 4,990 people died due to motorcycle accidents. That isn't safe."

"Ah. Te preocupas demasiado. You have me, okay?" With a smile, Coco places his hands onto her shoulders and squeeze them tight. "Just hold on to me as your life depends on it."

This reassurance allows Mila to trust his words. What were the odds anyway? Mila assumes Coco is well verse with motorcycles. For he'd been riding since his teenage years. At least that is what Coco told her.

"How can I ride with this dress on?" Mila questions.

Coco flicks his eyes on the bottom of her beautiful skin-tight cocktail dress. Without warning, Coco kneels to his knees and yanks the bottom. The dress rips to reveal half of her left thigh. Out of curiosity, Coco stares at the flesh of her thigh until she waves him away.

"That..." Mila sighs in embarrassment. Her cheeks a light pink tinge. The tips of her fingers graze the tear. "...will do I suppose. $360 down the drain."

"You can buy another one," Coco merely says.

Throwing one leg over his bike, Coco mounts carefully. He then turns ever so slightly to pat the back seat.

Mila does the same as Coco but with awkward movements.

"Don't you need a helmet?"

Coco shook his head whilst gently taking hold of her arms. With care, he wraps her delicate arms around his midsection. One hand under the other. He then tucks his hand behind her knee to signal Mila to scoot closer. Doing so, Mila presses the front of her body against his back. Squeezing Coco tight.

The smell of leather tickles her nose with a mixture of his natural scent. Taking in the pleasant aroma, Mila places her chin onto his right shoulder.

Looking back, Coco's eye locks onto hers. Shortly after, the bike roars to life. Mila, unable to hear the precious purr from the engine, wince at the bike's vibration. Her hands are clammy as she fear they will not stick together.

"Johnny, I don't think -" Mila is unable to finish her sentence for the bike jolts forward. Those shaky arms of hers suddenly tighten, eyes squeezed shut as the motion caused her stomach to drop. Coco swore he heard a small yelp come from Mila.

Coco smirks as he turns from out of the diner onto the main road. Mila too afraid to open her eyes, press her cheek against Coco's back, unable to look forward. She wanted to curse Coco under the sun for how fast he decided to go during her first ride. But as time went on, that fear is replaced with comfort. Security even. As the bike switch lanes, Mila finally removes her head from Coco's back to look at her right.