Making a right, she noticed something about half a mile down the road and sighed in relief to finally have found Claire. She was worried sick that Claire had crashed and she was in a hospital somewhere, or worse, that she had met someone who had made an offer of help and instead kidnapped her. Not that it was in any way likely on base, but Nic couldn’t believe how irrational her thought processes had become since meeting Claire. Kissing her in the bathroom, dreaming about her at night, seeing her in a gay bar, and now panicking about her impending demise at the hands of an unknown assailant. Get a grip. She’s fine. Nic eased her grip on the handlebars, her white knuckles finally getting some blood flow now that she had found Claire safe and sound. “Hey stranger,” Nic said, the relief evident in her voice as she pulled her bike in behind Claire’s, trying to focus on Claire’s face rather than how fucking incredible she looked in her motorcycle clothes. “Gosh, am I glad to see you.
