Within fifteen minutes, it's all sorted and we're on the road and I feel free and fantastic. I've got jeans on and one of my favorite sleeveless tops and I reckon I look careless and sexy, even despite the helmet Juan's made me wear. All I've got in my tiny backpack is a sweatshirt, a brush, a bit of makeup, and some money. As we roar along the country roads I press myself into Juan's back, loving the smell of him, loving the way his muscles move as he maneuvers the bike.
"Where are we going?" I shout above the bike's engine.
He twists back to me; my eyes fix on his mouth. "Jerez," he says.
"Great!"
"It won't exactly be thrilling..."
"Yes, it will!" I reply.
