Sunflower Ride
The Harley hummed beneath us as we left Forks, each mile carrying me farther from Edward’s suffocating plans and closer to something that felt like freedom. The salt air filled my lungs, sharp and clean, washing away months of silence. Wrapped around Jasper’s waist, I realized how natural it felt—how right. His voice crackled through the helmet speakers, low and warm. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked as the Pacific spread out before us like a promise. For the first time in months, I could breathe. For the first time in forever, I wanted more.
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