‘It’s a Moto Guzzi Le Mans I,’ he told Mare and handed her a helmet. A guy in Annapolis bought it from us. Put this on. And roll down your sleeves.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Mare put the helmet on and looked at the bike, trying to get her balance back. ‘This thing is gorgeous. Should we be riding it up the mountain?’

‘Sure,’ Crash said, swinging his leg over it. ‘Test drive. I’ll take it to Maryland before I leave the States.’ He patted the seat behind him. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Okay’ Mare settled in behind him, scooting so that she was pressed against him, her breasts against his back, her thighs gripping his, and the memories rushed back, the old heat bubbling in her veins, and she sighed. ‘No hurry. Let’s take good care of this classic’ She rocked her hips closer so she was pressed tight against him where she fit just right, feeling the good stuff start low.

‘You want to make it all the way up the mountain, stop that,’ Crash said, and she laughed into the back of his jacket and tightened herself around him again, loving the way he felt against her again. Okay, she didn’t have choices, but tonight she had Crash. That was a hell of a lot.

He kicked the bike into motion, and she drew a deep breath as they rode down the street, closing her eyes and smiling as the vibration made her breathe harder still. ‘Take Cobblestone Street,’ she said, and he laughed and said, ‘Why?’ and she thought, Cobblestones, of course, knowing he knew why, rubbing her cheek against his back because of everything he did know about her, concentrating on the hum inside her as they rode and he turned down the streets, taking the long way, feeling it build until they hit bumpy Cobblestone Street, and she felt the heat rise and twist and thought, yesyesyes and began to shudder and bounce. Don’t stop, she thought, clenching against him, God, yes, drawing in her breath, yes, sucking in energy from everywhere, drawing everything to her, and then Crash cursed and swerved and she cried out as a trash can went hurtling by them.

He slowed the bike. ‘Damn it,’ he said, and Mare straightened away from him, shaken, watching the trash can roll away now that she’d let go, cold with knowledge she didn’t want. ‘You okay?’

‘No,’ she said faintly.

‘I’m going to personally go around nailing down every damn trash can in this town,’ he said as they turned down the road that led up to the mountain.

That’s the street we were on after the prom, Mare thought, trying to catch her breath. I told him to take the cobblestones then, too. I wanted the ride.

I pulled that trash can to us when I came. I sucked in my breath, I sucked in everything, and I pulled it to us, and we wrecked because of me and he left because of me.

Everything was my fault, it was all my fault.

She held herself away from him, trembling, all the way up the mountain, trying to tell herself that she hadn’t known, that she’d always been careful when she’d had sex, always had it outside, up on the mountain under the big oak, where there was nothing but rocks too big to move so that nobody got hurt, that she’d thought the little bubbles she got on the back of the bike hadn’t counted, the real thing was Crash inside her, not just her hugging him, giggling and popping on the back of the bike, she hadn’t known-

My fault.

Crash turned the bike into the violet-filled meadow at the top of the hill and cut the motor, then took off his helmet and turned to her. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes,’ she said, and took off her helmet and got off the bike, hating not touching him, hating herself for touching him. My fault. ‘No.’

‘I know, it was just like prom night,’ Crash said, getting off the bike. ‘Listen, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to-’

‘It was my fault,’ Mare said miserably. ‘The accident prom night. It was my fault.’

‘It was an accident,’ Crash said, sounding confused. He put his hand on her arm. ‘If it was anybody’s fault, it was mine. If I’d slowed better, you wouldn’t have fallen off-’

‘My fault.’ Mare put her arms around his neck, keeping her mind in check so that nothing moved anywhere. ‘It’s my fault you left town. It’s my fault-’

‘Hey.’ Crash put both arms around her and she drew in her breath as he pulled her close, the bulk of his body a comfort. ‘It wasn’t-’

‘I’m magic,’ Mare said, holding on to him. ‘I make magic. That’s my secret, I’m psychokinetic, I can move things with my mind, that’s why I always brought you up here, because everything up here’s too heavy too move. I came on the back of the bike and when I came, I threw that trash can, and that’s why we wrecked. It was my fault.’

‘Uh, Mare…’

‘No, I really can move things.’ Mare looked around the clearing. There was the Great Big Rock and the circle of the other Big Rocks, but they were all too big, that was the whole point of being up here, that she couldn’t throw things while she was thrashing around. The wind had picked up, and the tree branches were waving, and there wasn’t anything light enough for her to move that the wind wasn’t already moving, everything was beyond her power. Maybe one of the helmets…

Crash was looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. ‘Look, Mare, if this is that Queen of the Universe stuffy it’s okay, I believe you.’

‘No you don’t.’ Mare stared at his helmet, trying to get the weight of it in her mind. She lifted it up off the seat of his bike, but then the wind scooped in under it and it toppled to the ground where Crash caught it and tied it to the seat.

‘I really can,’ she said desperately, looking for something light enough, anything, maybe she could put a violet in his buttonhole or something, and then he put his arms around her and drew her close again.

‘Look, I don’t care,’ he said. ‘Because you know what? Even if you could do that stuff, even if the wreck was your fault, it would be good that it happened. I grew up. I got out of town, I learned things, I made a great life, a life I want you to be part of, I’m ready to settle down now, so it turned out all right, didn’t it?’

Mare bit her lip and leaned against him. ‘No. No, I missed you too much.’

‘I know,’ he said, holding her tighter. ‘I missed you, too. But now it’s our time, Mare. We’ve earned each other.’

‘You don’t understand,’ she said, but his arms were warm around her, safe, and she sighed into him, grateful to have him at least for tonight, even though she couldn’t keep him, even though there’d be no tomorrow for them and she’d be lost without him again. ‘You’ve definitely earned me tonight,’ she whispered, and then she reached up and kissed him, hard, desperate for him, felt his arms tighten around her, remembered the way he’d felt rolling hot against her, and didn’t care about anything but now. If all she had was now, that would be something. ‘Come on,’ she whispered, and pulled him with her under the massive oak.

She popped the snaps on her overalls and let them fall to her feet and Crash said, ‘You shouldn’t do that all at once, I get dizzy,’ and she laughed, taking off the rest of her clothes, watching him strip, too, trying to keep the tears from starting, and then she pulled him down to the ground with her, shivering because the air was cool with the approaching storm. He was hot against her, his hands gentle on her again, and she closed her eyes, remembering him, trying to remember him forever, the taste of him and the scent, the way his skin scraped on hers, the way his mouth covered hers, the way his hips fit into her. They were made for each other, both strong and tall, and she said, ‘Do it hard,’ the way she had the first time she’d brought him up to the mountain, and he laughed the way he had then, and he said, ‘We’ll do it every way we can,’ just like he had then, and she closed her eyes tight and thought, Don’t cry, he’ll think it’s because he’s doing something wrong, and he was doing everything so right.

‘I love you,’ she whispered into his skin, and he whispered, ‘I love you, too, and God, I’ve missed you, Mare,’ and he moved his hands over her, remembering her, touching her everywhere. She shifted against him, thinking, Yes, you fit there, and Yes, that was right there, and Yes, I loved feeling you there, rolling against him and shuddering as he discovered her all over again. Then she bit his earlobe and he bent to her breast, and she sucked in her breath as he worked his way down her body, and she arched under him, her eyes wide open as the oak tree moved above her, the leaves pulsing as he gently bit her stomach and moved lower, then lower still, licking into her, and she breathed with his rhythm and the oak leaves did, too, and the branches heaved as her blood pounded harder and she twisted her fingers into his thick hair. Oh, God, she thought, and began to rock, and the earth did, too, and so did the branches as he held her hips trapped and she felt the pressure everywhere, in her fingertips and behind her eyes and most of all there, until she writhed and reached up and saw the branches above her writhing, wildly, almost snapping, and she stopped herself just in time before they broke. ‘No,’ she said, and pulled on his hair, and he looked up at her, confused.

‘Make love to me,’ she said, breathless, and he said, ‘I was,’ and she said, ‘No, condom, inside me,’ and he reached for his pants, and she thought, I hate having power, and let her head fall back and looked up at the tree that at least had all its branches still in place. Heavy suckers, too. You never did that before, she told the tree, and realized that to keep all those branches up there and not plummeting down on them, she was going to have to fake an orgasm. With the man she loved. Who was perfectly capable of blowing her mind. Literally. And who was going to leave her on Monday.