Chapter 7“That was…!” Pete couldn’t form the words.
Bear lifted the visor on Pete’s crash helmet. “You don’t need to shout anymore, the engine’s off now and I can hear you just fine.”
While Bear had driven into the garage and cut the engine, the sound—as well as the vibration—still thrummed through Pete’s body.
“Sorry.” Pete ducked his head then tried to undo the chin strap on the helmet.
“Com’ere, let me.” Bear made short work of freeing Pete. After setting the crash helmet aside, he rubbed Pete’s cheeks. “Straps always leave impressions.”
Pete had noticed that when Bear had taken off his helmet at Grans. He’d wanted to smooth out the wrinkles in Bear’s cheeks but had chickened out at the last second.
“You’re shivering.” Bear’s ministrations moved to Pete’s arms.
“Yeah, sorry,” he
