Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
But deep down, I already knew he had.
My pulse still hadn’t slowed by the time I reached my apartment door. I fumbled with my keys, muttering about how Chance apparently hadn’t needed them when he let himself in last night.
The second I stepped inside, my gaze locked on the kitchen table.
There they were.
A set of keys, resting exactly where he said they’d be. A shiny black key fob with a dealership tag still attached, looped through a braided leather keychain.
My heart thudded hard enough to hurt. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I snatched them up and stalked over to the windows to make sure they were still locked. Same with my bedroom. The deadbolt to the door had been flipped before I headed outside.
Nothing was out of place. But somehow Chance had gotten in, left a luxury SUV in my parking spot, and vanished again without me hearing a sound.
Maybe I’d slept through it.
Heat crept up my neck as I considered why I’d been out cold. Exhausted in every possible way after he’d made me come, even so many hours later. The thought made my cheeks burn hotter.
“Fantastic,” I muttered. “I passed out so hard from an orgasm that I missed a full-blown breaking and entering.”
Half of me wanted to admire his audacity. The other part wanted to kick him in the balls for making the decision without me.
I turned the fob over in my hand, tracing the embossed logo with my thumb. I had no clue how he’d managed to buy me a brand-new vehicle so quickly. Or why he’d done it when he hadn’t even bothered to call or text after what had happened between us.
He’d crossed every boundary imaginable, but I couldn’t ignore what this meant. Buying me a car wasn’t a casual gesture. It was a statement. One that said I wasn’t on my own anymore, whether I’d asked for help or not. Even without my brother here.
Relief pulsed through the irritation, stubborn and unwelcome. If he was willing to go this far to make sure I drove something safe, maybe he wouldn’t avoid me anymore. And if we spent time together, maybe he’d give in to temptation again.
But that didn’t mean he got a free pass for disappearing last night. Or for deciding he knew what was best for me without asking.
I set the keys back on the table, pulled my phone from my pocket, and hit his contact before I could talk myself out of it.
The line rang three times. Then a low, rough voice came through the speaker. “You okay?”
That was it. No greeting or explanation. Just that gravel-and-grit tone that hit somewhere deep in my chest. And my panties, dammit.
“You broke into my apartment!” I snapped.
Silence crackled on the other end before he answered, completely unbothered by my accusation. “I’m making sure you’re safe, whether you like it or not.”
Then the line went dead.
I stared at my phone, stunned, waiting for the screen to light up again. It didn’t.
We hadn’t been disconnected. He had hung up on me.
My pulse pounded so hard it felt like my heartbeat had moved to my throat. I was furious, but under the heat of my reaction, something else stirred. An ache that had nothing to do with anger.
“Infuriating. Arrogant.” I glared at the blank screen. “And the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
With a frustrated sound that landed somewhere between a growl and a sigh, I tossed the phone onto the couch and stalked to the window.
The SUV sat there, gleaming in the sunlight like a smug promise I hadn’t asked for—and couldn’t ignore.
Despite myself, the corners of my mouth twitched.
“I was supposed to be building a new life here,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “Not losing my mind over a man who makes breaking and entering seem romantic.”
7
DRIFT
The next day, I was working in my office.
Pretending to, anyway.
The stack of numbers on the screen in front of me hadn’t moved in an hour. The cursor on the laptop blinked against a half-read report of stats from the past few underground races that The Redliners and Redline Zero had raced in. They were Kane’s underground teams that I managed. I’d read the same sentence five times and couldn’t remember a word of it.
The office sat at the back of the clubhouse. It was sparse—one window, a few pictures from races I’d won, and a sturdy metal desk. The low hum of compressors and the occasional echo of a wrench hitting concrete bled through the walls, steady and familiar. Normally, those sounds grounded me. Today, they grated on my nerves.
Because every time I tried to focus, all I could see was her.
The way Alanna had looked at me last night—wide-eyed, skin flushed pink, lips swollen, and hair tangled from my hands. The sound she made when I pushed her over the edge was still ringing in my ears. That soft, broken moan that hit right in the center of my fucking chest and tore something loose I didn’t even know I had.