Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Chivalry isn’t dead,” she said, deadpan.
I snorted. “Just in recovery.”
Once we reached my bike, I picked up the helmet strapped to the back. I didn’t wear it, but I liked to have one in case someone had to ride with me. Which was exactly never, but I was certainly glad to have the damned thing now.
“You ride?” I asked.
She bit her lip. “Brett took me out once. Said I’d get us both killed.”
“He’s an asshole,” I said. “All you have to do is hold on. I’ll do the rest.”
She put her hands on my shoulders and swung a leg over, careful not to flash the whole street. She tied the wrap around her waist so her legs were somewhat covered above her knees. The ride would be cool, but not too bad as long as we went at a reasonable speed.
She settled behind me, arms hesitant at first, then tighter as I rocked the bike upright. “My car --” she started.
I cut her off. “It’s fine across the street. Anything left at Throttle’s still there in the morning. You have my word. Also, Mike, the bartender, will be the first person to point the law in my direction if anything happens to you. The loose community at Throttle will have your back.”
She exhaled, some of the tension bleeding out. Her head pressed into my back. “This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I’m not going to miss out. Just know that if you murder me, I’ll come back and haunt you.”
I chuckled. “Fair enough.” I gunned the engine, let it rumble under us, felt her lock her grip around my waist as she gave a little squeal. All of a sudden, I felt lighter than I had in months. Since Noose. Maybe the fix was a beautiful woman with burns of her own, holding on to me like I was something worth holding on to.
“Ready?” I asked.
“No!” she said, but laughed. “Fuck it. Let’s go.” So we did. The night swallowed us up, and for the first time in a long time, I felt the burning ache in my chest fade into the background.
Chapter Three
Juniper
Inferno pulled away from the curb gently, but I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and held on anyway. He’d insisted I use the helmet on the back of his bike, so my face was protected from the cool wind. Not that it mattered much because my thighs were wrapped around a seriously hot man. True, we weren’t exactly facing the appropriate way for this to work anatomically, but a girl had to work with what she had. We left Throttle behind along with my car. Smartest thing I’d ever done? No. Was I still doing this? Yep.
For the first block I did the only thing I could think to do, which was wrap my arms around his middle, squeal like a girl, and pray to whatever god handled reckless decisions made in red dresses on a girl’s twenty-first birthday. We cruised the city streets at a leisurely pace and not once did Inferno berate me for unbalancing him. In fact, I didn’t think my weight on the back bothered him at all. Brett had told me I’d get us both killed. Brett had been wrong about a lot of things, apparently, including me.
Nashville streamed past in smears of gold and red, streetlights bleeding into storefronts bleeding into the taillights of the car ahead of us. The air had a little bite to it, but his jacket held onto some of his heat. I wanted to rub my face against his back, but the helmet faceplate made that impossible.
We came through downtown proper, and the buildings climbed taller around us, with glass towers throwing back the neon from the honky-tonks lower down. Music Row hadn’t gone to bed yet, and even from two blocks out I could hear the bleed of steel guitar and bar chatter pouring out through propped-open doors. Tourists in cowboy hats staggered along the sidewalk in packs, and a bachelorette party in matching sashes screamed with laughter at something none of them would likely remember the next day judging by the alcohol being consumed. Inferno and I rolled through all of it, weaving lanes with confidence.
By the time we hit the third light, I was greedy for the full experience. I wanted the wind in my hair, the engine roaring louder. I wanted to go faster. He put a boot down at the light and turned his head just enough that I could see the corner of his mouth.
“You all good back there?” he called over the idle.
I flipped up my visor. “I’m amazing back here,” I shouted back, and I meant it so completely that it startled a laugh out of me. “Can I take my helmet off?”