After our ice cream, we head outside and I ask, "So what do you want to do now?" Then, seeing the look on Tristan's face, I quickly add, "Other than having sex on a street corner."

He sends me the puppy eyes, pulling the corners of his lips down into a pout. I roll my eyes and take his hand. "Come on." I lead him back to the motorcycle, and we get on. I drive to a nearby convenience store, rolling my cycle to a stop in front of it.

"What are we doing here?" Tristan asks, confused. I smirk at him. "We're filling another thing on your bucket list, of course." The confusion slides off of his face, replaced by understanding and adoration.

"What?" I ask, leaning in closer with that tempting smirk. "You like what you see?" Slowly, I roll my tongue over my lips, leaning in closer to Tristan. He rocks back and forth, fighting a moan before I've even kissed him. My smirk grows. For once, I've got the upper hand. I move my lips dangerously close to his, and he watches me with round eyes, waiting for my next move.

Seductively, I begin to tease him, nibbling on his right ear and trailing my fingers down his back to grip a more sensitive destination. I move my lips to position them just above his. Then, slowly, I let out my breath into his face, gently blowing on his wisps of hair.

I direct my eyes to focus on his face, which clearly reads, "JUST FUCKING KISS ME ALREADY!!!!"

And so I do.

Do I ever.

And when we're finished, we sure do look the part. Tristan's hair is messed up entirely from my fingers running through and tousling it. Not to mention that he's got a prominent hickey to match my own, his face is covered in marks from my lipstick, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone.

As for me, well, my hair is a mess, and my top has ridden slightly up, exposing my blue bra. Blushing, I shove the shirt back into place. Tristan reaches out to fix my hair and I reach out to fix his so that we end up in a kind of weird embrace. Then, he buttons his shirt and we head inside.

As we enter the store, I slip my arm around Tristan's waist and whisper, "You go grab whatcha wanna grab, and I'll distract the clerk." He nods and lets go of me, disappearing into one of the aisles.

"Hello, beautiful," a teenage guy says to me from behind the counter. "Lexi," I reply, using the pet name Lisa gave me in 7th grade. "So how long have you worked here? Ooh, that's pretty. Can I look at it? Do you live here? How old are you? You know, I've always wanted a pet fish. Do you have a pet fish?" I fire questions and comments at him so fast he puts the graphic novel he's reading down to concentrate on understanding me. Smiling in satisfaction, I keep up a constant chatter while I watch for Tristan.

Tristan's p.o.v.

I wander down to the back aisles, trying to find something worth taking. I've watched my buddies shoplift before, but I've never done it myself. Something tells me this day might be a bigger adventure than I bargained for, so I take an inexpensive stuffed toy, something the owner isn't likely to miss. Then, I make sure my hood covers my face before stuffing the stuffed cat in my pocket and hightailing it to the doorway.

Alex is jabbering on to the clerk about how fish are so much better than cats or dogs for pets, and I frown down at my pocket. Maybe I should've gotten a fish instead.

I signal to her and she ends her conversation with the store manager with a quick, "Anyways, see you around!" Then she rushes to meet me by the door.

As we hurry to open it, I catch the clerk putting down his book and eying us suspiciously out of the corner of my eye. I press so close to Alex that I can smell her sweet tangerine perfume.

The clerk begins to walk towards us and I shove Alex out the door quickly. Then I go out myself, but I'm interrupted by a loud, obnoxious dinging.

Alex's p.o.v.

As soon as the door begins to ding, the clerk begins to run towards us. I realize that this store must be equipped with an alarm system, unlike so many other stores in Mobile. My eyes widen and I jerk at Tristan, half-dragging and half-shoving him towards the motorcycle.

We board in a flurry of legs and worry, hurrying to start her up. Meanwhile, the clerk runs out of the store, sprinting to his truck.

We fly off, surely going twenty miles over the speed limit. The guy follows a ways behind us in his truck.

Tristan grips my back, hard. "Don't worry!" I shout to him over the sound of the wind. "I've done this plenty of times before. We'll be fine!" Actually, the truth is, I haven't done this before. I mean, I've shoplifted dozens of times. But I've never been involved in a cops-and-robbers style chase before. Lots of times, if the storeowners even realize that we've taken anything, they just let Lisa and I go, since we've never taken anything that would cost more than five dollars to replace.

But now, this guy is speeding after us in a 1-ton, whereas we're speeding down the interstate on a black motorcycle with a sparkly silver star on the fuselage. Pretty ironic, huh?

"Hey!" Tristan yells at me as I turn my cycle into a side street. "What are you doing?" "I'm losing this dude," I reply calmly as I park the motorcycle in somebody's lawn, away from the vision of people driving past. "What if he finds us here?" Tristan asks, panic racking his tone.

"He won't," I respond, sitting sidesaddle now. "But what if he does?" "Then we're screwed," I reply, smiling now. Tristan rolls his eyes and swings a leg over to sit beside me. I watch as the 1-ton carrying our store clerk roars past.

"See?" I say, smirking at Tristan. "I told you so." He smiles down at me. "Have I told you how much I love it when you smirk?" "No," I say. "But you can show me how much you love it right now." "Oh, yeah?" he asks, teasingly. "Yeah," I respond, moving to slip into his arms.

"Well," he says, placing a kiss on my lips, "Then I just might do that."