Photos for prompts can be found here:
Thanks to SorceressCirce for beta’ing.
“What the fuck? No!”
I stare, incredulous, at the spot where my bike had been chained not an hour before.
I grumble. “That’s the third fucking time this week! Assholes!”
Sighing, I grab my cell to let work know I’m running late. Again. Mike’s not happy, but there’s fuck all I can do about it.
Why did I think moving to Amsterdam was such a good idea?
Sure, I could get around easily enough, and biking’s the norm here, but, fuck! I can’t afford to keep replacing it.
“Need a ride?”
I gulp, meeting his eyes.
More than you know.