"Fancy," she said. What kind of vehicle had a slot just for a cane?
Okay. So all of what he was saying involved touching. Mel wasn't really against that. Which was an interesting realization. How much of her life had she spent just trying to get by, or defending the rutting world from demons?
How much of it had she gotten to spend doing things she wanted?
She was going to start with this. With the time it took to get to the other side of York.
Mel threw a leg over the bike and settled, making sure that her backpack was resting on the thing, too. She put her feet where Julian said to put them, one boot at a time. She remembered where Julian was hurt, and it wasn't anywhere she'd touch. But he was hurt, and she had to remember that. She was the slayer. She could pick the bike up by herself. If she got scared, she couldn't squeeze him, or lean into him too hard.
She let her hands hover for a second at his sides, green nail polish flashing in the light. Then she put her arms around him. One night stands and strange kisses from her brother aside, this was the closest she'd ever physically been to a guy that wasn't trying to kill or maim her.
It was nice. Which meant she probably shouldn't get used to it. Just enjoy it. Mel slid herself slightly closer and hung on slightly closer. If moments that were hers were that few and far between, she was going to fucking enjoy them.