Rule 28

Rule 28 - Not proofread, as per usual, please ignore any errors, I'll fix them when I do the final edit, thanks!

I moved the stencil I made further down the tank of the bike and grimaced, attempting to stop it from smudging the rest of the work. As I'd promised Ash that I'd decorate the tank for him and possibly do some posh looking stitching on the seat, I'd been working on it for two days straight.

Unfortunately, that meant that he'd had two days without practice on the bike he was going to be using. He said he would use another bike, but I still felt guilty taking it from him. On the plus side, Jackson was still leaking us information, allowing us to stay on top of the whole bike situation.

"Hey," I heard from behind me, just as Ash's arms came around my stomach.

"Hi," I whispered, shaking up the can.

"I'm gonna need you to keep the bike until the race," he told me and recoiled his arms. He moved to sit on the opposite side of the bike and watched me use the can.

"Why? Don't you need it to practice?" I asked. He shook his head and wiped his oily hands on his jeans.

"Nope. I've got a dud bike, one that looks like this one before you started on the tank," he explained and winced as the can screeched under the pressure of my finger on the trigger. I stopped spraying and sat back on my heels.

"So they'll mess with that one instead?" I asked. Ash nodded.

"Hopefully."

"Has anything happened with your dad?" I enquired and switched cans. Ash shook his head and sighed.

"Nope, nothing." I sighed and shook the next can.

Ash sat silently, watching me switch colours and ditch the stencils. They were only messing up the design. He eventually got bored, so moved onto my side of the bike and started to try and kiss me. I cursed and elbowed him in the stomach.

"You'll mess it up, get off," I hissed. He smirked and continued to press light kisses down my neck.

"At the moment, I really don't care," he whispered. His hot breath danced on my neck, making me shudder.

"I do, bugger off," I muttered. He chuckled and twirled my ponytail around his finger.

"Have I ever told you how cute this looks when you bob your head?" he chided. I gave him a sour look and snatched my ponytail around my shoulder.

"You're just getting in the way, go back to the flat," I told him and he grinned.

"Sorry, Mum,"  he teased.

"After what we did last night, I don't think calling me Mum is very appropriate," I replied. His grin broke out wider across his face and he chuckled.

"Very true," he agreed. Ash stayed for another few minutes before deep breathing and deciding that watching me do the base colours of his bike tank was too boring to endure.

He kissed my forehead as a form of goodbye and tried to tickle me again. As a retort, I sprayed the white can on the crotch of his jeans. He yelped and looked down with a glare.

"You're lucky these are only my garage jeans," he told me. I gave him an incredulous look as a response.

"You really think I'd spray you if those were decent jeans?" I asked. He shrugged and gently grasped my elbows to pull me to my feet.

"Wouldn't put it past you. Give me a proper kiss and I'll go," he told me. I sighed and folded my arms around his neck, giving his cheek a peck. He gently flicked my lower back and I smirked, moving to give him a proper kiss.

As I did so, I felt his hands on my butt. I pulled back and raised an eyebrow.

"Public place," I hissed and he smiled, pulling his hands away. When he did, I noticed that they were bright white from paint. I gasped, my eyes wide as I put my hands to my butt to feel the damage.

"You're an arse," I accused, twisting to see two white hand prints on either cheek. He chuckled and strolled over to the sink to wash his hands.

"I know," he said breezily.  I scoffed and knelt back down to continue with the base pattern. "Is that going to be dry for tomorrow?" he enquired, peering at the intricate pattern.

"Yeah, it'll be dry in a few hours," I said with a shrug. He nodded and rolled the dud bike in through the garage door.

I watched as the sun glinted off the replicated blank tank and the chrome shone from the lights in the garage.

"It looks good," I offered, but Ash scrunched up his nose while shaking his head.

"It's crap, doesn't drive as well and just isn't my bike," he sulked. I let out a chuckle and patted his shin.

"You can have your old one back as soon as the races start," I tried to comfort. He just shot me a look and held his hand out to help me up.

I'd learnt from experience that he never actually helped me up, so instead of accepting his help, I slowly got to my feet. I brushed my hands off on my jeans and blew my fringe out of my face.

"Do you want to go for a ride?" Ash asked suddenly. My head shot up and I shook my head.

"I'd much rather spoon out my own eyeballs." He rolled his eyes and twisted me around.

"I'll make you a deal," he whispered, his face millimetres from my ear. I shuddered, his hot breath making my blood race.

"Better be a pretty damn good one if you're trying to get me on a motorbike," I mumbled back. His hands skimmed down my arms and gently clasped my hips. My breath caught in my throat as I looked to my side to see him smirking.

"I will take you out to dinner tomorrow night and not die in the race," he told me, pulling me closer to him.

"You're not dying in the races even if I don't get on the pissing bike. Three courses," I reasoned. He let out a small laugh and kissed my cheek.

"Two, including dessert," he offered. I shrugged and looked at the bike with a nervous expression.

"Three including some garlic bread," I shot back. Ash grumbled something and then patted my shoulders.

"Deal."

I regretted my decision as soon as Ash handed me the helmet and straddled the dud bike. It was then that I stopped calling it the 'dud' bike, as that made it sound like it was broken.

"Ash," I whined, taking a step backwards. He shot me a look and shoved the helmet in my direction.

"Just think, that New York cheesecake," he started and then smirked when I gave him a longing look.

"You should be taking me out anyway! I'm your girlfriend, not just because I'm going on a bike ride," I scolded.

"I got you an art gallery," he countered. I narrowed my eyes and snatched the helmet from his grasp.

"You cannot keep doing that, it was a birthday present," I defended and he smiled, putting his own helmet on.

I hesitantly swung onto the back of the bike. The helmet was weighing my head down, making my neck weak. Ash glanced over his shoulder through the visor and gave me a appraising look.

My feet were still securely on the floor, but as soon as I moved myself forwards and gripped Ash's shirt, I began to panic. Bikes weren't overly safe, I'd never crashed, but getting on one was most definitely against my... morals.

"Ash," I squeaked. He reached around and gently took hold of my hands, moving them around his front to grip onto the belt buckles. I moved my feet up from the floor and pressed my thighs against Ash's sides.

He patted my hands and kicked the stand up from the floor. I made a small panicked noise and clamped my eyes shut. I moved to wrap myself around my boyfriend tighter, but my helmet his hit, making a loud echo.

I didn't have much time to think about it after that, because Ash rolled out of the garage and shot off onto the road. He must've been going above the speed limit, but I didn't open my eyes for the first few minutes of the ride.

Luckily, the visor on my helmet was down, so when I finally opened my eyes, no wind shot into them.

Ash's arms were taut on the handles and he leaned forwards, completely in his zone. I took a deep breath, tangling my fingers in his shirt. I was careful not to go anywhere near his crotch when I tightened my grip on his belt buckles.

He eventually slowed down and took some side alleys until we arrived on the outskirts of Manchester, not far from my gallery. Ash slowed the bike to a halt and took his helmet off, kicking down the stand.

He gently prised my hands from his shirt, leaving it all creased around the hem.

"Sorry," I mumbled when I took the helmet off and fluffed out my hair.

"For what? Ruining both my shirt and my jeans?" he asked with a sideways smile.

"That and for almost cutting off your blood supply," I replied. Ash twisted and swung his legs around so he straddled the seat facing me. I moved my thighs over his, so our legs were swinging off the sides of the bike together.

"You were alright. Not as bad as your first time," he complimented. I raised an eyebrow and rubbed my hands up and down my jeans, wiping away the sweat.

"My first time was when you blackmailed me because of Melinda. You were an arse hole," I told him and he grinned, leaning back on the bike.

"And you were a bitch, still are sometimes," he said.

"Lovely," I deadpanned. He shrugged and made the bike sway. On instinct, I instantly clawed into his legs and shot him a glare.

"Like I said, arsehole."

We stayed on the bike for a few more minutes before we decided to head back and finish off the design.

As the race was the next day, I was making sure to spend every waking moment with Ash, just in case anything was to happen. My stomach churned whenever I thought about it, so I tried to push the race to the back of my mind.

When Ash pulled up outside the garage, a post it note was stuck to the door. Ash swore under his breath and swiped it from the metal. I shakily removed myself from the bike and peered over his shoulder.

'Last chance, Toms. BACK DOWN.'

"He's cracking out the caps now," I chided. Ash sighed and slammed his palm on the metal door.

"I wish that instead of hiding behind a post it note like a fucking coward, he'd come out here and threaten me himself," Ash growled. I  gently rubbed his shoulders and tried to move him out of the way, only to find myself staring at his red hands.

"Stop hurting yourself," I ordered and pushed the garage door up. It clipped Ash's nose, making a loud crack sound throughout the garage.

"Shit," I hissed, my hands flying to my mouth.

"Rule twenty eight, stop trying to break my nose," Ash yelped, holding onto his face with a grimace.

"I'm really sorry," I blurted, guiding him into the garage. Luckily, when I shut the door again, he was nowhere near it. I'd done that to him twice, the same when I headbutted him a few months earlier.

I managed to wet a tissue from the sink and dab away the drying blood, but we couldn't stop the bleeding that easily.

"I need your shirt," I said. Ash frowned at me through his hands and shook his head. He winced immediately.

"Use your shirt, my nose is broken," he told me.

"I can't go outside in just a bra," I retorted.

"Then borrow my shirt on the way home, just stop the blood," he grumbled, moving his head down.

With a curse and a grumbled, I whisked my shirt over my head and bunched it up in front of his nose. He grasped it and held it tight against the nose, catching all the blood. Consciously, I held my arms up in front of my chest and covering my stomach.

Ash peeped out of his eyes to look at me.

"You don't need to cover up," he said, his voice muffled by my shirt.

"It's cold," I responded and glanced around for another shirt, or even some overalls. Ash let out a hiss and chucked the shirt back at me, a big blotch of blood at the bottom.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Your perfume stung the cut," he replied and whisked his own shirt off. Why he couldn't have done that in the first place, I didn't know.

As soon as I got dressed again, I helped Ash clean up and raise the first aid kit.

"You look like you've leaked," Ash said with a laugh when I'd stopped the blood gushing.

"What?" I looked down and instantly went a horrific shade of red. The blood from his nose bleed was on the bottom of my shirt and had spread onto my grey jeans, making it look like I'd had an accident with my period.

"I bloody hate you," I snapped and Ash spluttered out a laugh.

"Nice pun," he complimented and threw me his jumper. "That'll cover it, drama queen. Come on," he said.

I turned the light off on the bike, knowing that I'd have to continue with the paint in a few hours. The longer I left the bike, the longer I could pretend that my boyfriend might not crash and burn the day after.

A/N: Quicker update... Yay! I'll have a stab in the dark and say that there's about 2-4 chapters left to go. Let me know what you think, I enjoy having a surf through the comments, it gives me a kick up the arse to make me write a bit faster.

Until next time, wattpadians!