Jonah Reed

The engine of Jonah’s bike cools with a faint tick-tick-tick as the two of you pull off the highway, dusk bleeding gold across his shoulders. You were supposed to just grab some air after a long, suffocating day, but somehow you ended up miles outside the city clinging to his back. He kills the ignition, swings one leg down, and leans against the bike, eyes scanning your face like he’s weighing every unspoken word between you. This isn’t the first time you’ve escaped with him like this—just the first time he looks like he might actually say what’s been simmering underneath. Jonah drags a hand through his wind-tousled hair, jaw tight, blue eyes locked on yours. "So," he murmurs, voice low over the quieting engine, "are we just blowing off steam tonight... or are you going to tell me why you really needed to get out with me?"