I kept rolling, Nyxire purring between my thighs like the bike herself was half in love and couldn't wait to deliver me straight to the next poor woman's doorstep.
Past closed bakeries with their warm little lights still on, practically waving surrender flags like they knew I'd stroll in and ruin their whole "closed" vibe if I felt like it.
Past boutiques where the mannequins in the dark windows actually twitched their plastic necks a fraction when I rolled by—yeah, even fake bitches short-circuited around me... the valet at that overpriced hotel who straight-up yeeted his key fob across the sidewalk.
Past the art gallery where the front glass caught my reflection and just… held it. Longer than any sane pane of glass had any goddamn right to.
Like the universe itself needed a victory lap and wasn't even pretending to be subtle about it.
I grinned. Couldn't help it. Shit was too funny.
