Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Gotta admit,” Rocky said, “I thought you’d written me off. Wasn’t sure I’d hear from you again.”
I toyed with the rim of my glass, spinning it in slow circles. “You don’t seem the type to get your feelings hurt.”
“I don’t.” He leaned in, voice dropping low. “But I don’t like not knowing where I stand. I also don’t believe in letting something I want get away without a fight.”
My skin prickled. Every nerve ending in my body tuned itself to Rocky’s frequency. His words really shouldn’t make me hot, but I thought I might melt into a puddle of goo.
I tried to steer the conversation, to find an angle or a slip that would give away what he really wanted with me, but he gave nothing away. We talked bikes, music, the time he rebuilt a classic Mustang out of parts he’d scavenged from a junkyard. For every question I asked, he answered just enough to keep me interested but not enough to reveal anything real. I respected the hustle. I also wanted to smack him for being so fucking good at it. Even knowing he was expertly avoiding anything meaningful, I still found myself sucked into the tales he spun, simply happy to be having a light conversation with him.
By the end of the first round of shots, my guard was half down. By the end of the second, I’d stopped pretending I wasn’t staring at his mouth. Because, I wanted that mouth all over my body. All night long.
“So what is this, Rocky?” I asked. “What are we doing?”
He shrugged, a slow, lazy movement. “Just two people having a drink.” His eyes dropped to my lips, then flicked back to my face. “Unless you want to do something else.”
There it was again, that push-pull. I wanted to laugh it off, or maybe challenge him, but instead I heard myself say, “Depends on what you’re offering.”
He set his glass down with a deliberate clink. “You tell me.”
I reached for my drink, but he caught my wrist gently. His fingers were rough, warm, and callused from years working with his hands. And yeah, the double meaning wasn’t lost on me. I let him hold me there, my gaze not leaving his.
“Thought about you,” I said, surprised at my own honesty.
He smiled, not like before but slow and proud. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I wanted to look away, but didn’t. “I tried to talk myself out of answering you. Didn’t work.”
His hand slid up to the inside of my elbow, fingers resting just above the tattoo of an intricately created monarch butterfly with bright, multi-colored wings I’d gotten when I was seventeen, right after Ghost had taken me in. To me, that tattoo represented my new beginning. And I’d wanted it to be bright and colorful instead of drab and gray like my old life.
“Is that a problem?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in to me.
I grinned. “The problem is, you’re a question I can’t answer. I hate not being able to solve shit right in front of me.”
He leaned in, so close his breath ghosted against my cheek. “What if you didn’t have to solve me?”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. The urge to kiss him was almost painful. Instead, I let my hand drift up his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his T-shirt.
He covered my hand and squeezed gently, then stood, pulling me up with him. “Come on. Booth’s more private.”
He guided me to the corner booth, his hand never leaving my lower back. The touch was proprietary, but not demanding. I let him, more curious than annoyed. When we sat, he shifted so he could watch the room but also so he could watch me.
We didn’t bother with small talk this time. I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low register. “What are you really doing in here? In this city?”
He didn’t flinch. “I told you. Needed a fresh start.”
“Bullshit,” I said, but there was no heat behind it. “No one starts over in this town unless they’re hiding from something worse. And you don’t strike me as a Lone Wolf.”
He nodded, as if agreeing with me. “Maybe I just like the roads here. Always been a man who liked curves.” His grin held a wicked gleam I couldn’t combat. I doubt any woman across three townships could resist this man when he smiled.
I let the silence stretch between us, testing him. He didn’t fill it. After a few seconds, I said, “You ever think about leaving it all behind? The clubs, the bullshit, all of it?”
His expression softened for a second, so quick I almost missed it. “Every Goddamned day.”
It was the first completely honest thing he’d said since I met him. I tucked it away, turning it over in my mind. I didn’t delude myself into thinking I had this guy pegged. I knew he could absolutely manipulate me if he chose. But I knew in my heart, regarding this, he meant what he’d said.