Reid drives us there in his van as the other guys follow behind. Leaving Willa in the boat yard makes me nervous, but they assure me it will be okay. Reid parks and leaves his hand on the shift lever. His forearm flexes in the most delicious way, and I have to force my gaze to the dash. He contorts himself over the console, and his shoulder brushes my own.
“What are you looking for?”
He’s digging through his pile of clothes. I don’t know what he’s looking for or if he’ll ever find it. His ass is right in my face,and it’s a pure test of will to keep myself from reaching out to see if it’s as toned as it looks.
Reid’s voice comes out muffled through the back of the passenger seat. “Finally.”
He pulls out a pair of size eight pink cowboy boots,mycowboy boots. I’m smiling like an idiot. Before I let myself think better of it, I reach across the console and give him a tight hug.
Reid pulls away first this time. “Put ‘em on, cowgirl.”
He layers on a thick country accent. I love the way Reid can turn absolutely everything into a bit.
I’m wearing a dress for once—it’s light blue with little embroidered flowers. Stepping out of the car, I pull each boot on. Twirling in a circle, I tip my pretend hat at Reid as I finish my rotation.
I’ll spin all night if he keeps smiling like that.
“We’ll have to get you a hat.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but I’ll get a matching hat if he wants me to. It feels like I’m dressing up on Halloween. I’m not my usual uptight self who plans her every breath, just a carefree girl in a cowboy bar waiting for her cowboy to sweep her off her feet. I’m happy to be that, if only for a night.
Shutting the passenger door, I walk towards the bar, but Reid grabs my arm and re-opens the door behind me. He grabs my leather jacket off of the seat and starts to drape it across my shoulders. I wasn’t planning on bringing it. It’s not that cold, and it’s my comfort jacket. I always hide myself under its oversized sleeves, letting the familiar smell of leather comfort me. The girl I want to be tonight doesn’t need a comfort object. That’s just pathetic.
“You might get cold.”
I take it off and put it back in the car. “I’ll be fine.”
He raises his eyebrow at me and I see a flash of something across his eyes, but it’s gone before I can clock it.
We walk side by side up to the bar. There’s a patio out front filled with small tables and barstools. An old country song is playing, and the smell of greasy potatoes calls to me from a distance. I tug on Reid’s flannel and ask, “Can we get burgers?”
The music gets louder as we open the saloon style doors. I can’t hear his reply. He bends down til he’s towering over me and whispers gently into my ear, “Of course we can get burgers. Why do you think I brought you here?”
How could I possibly crush on any other guy when Reid knows that I want a burger even in my girly little free spirit cosplay? He orders for me, and the feminist in me usually hates that, but right now all I feel is relief at the fact I don’t have to talk to the burly lumberjack behind the counter.
I find us a high top table with three chairs and lean against it, waiting for those double doors to reveal Riley’s bouncy blonde curls.
Reid and Riley are my two favorite people on this earth, and having them both in the same place at the same time is going to be a fucking delight. All that is missing right now is Riley’s brother, Parker. I’m looking forward to seeing him later this season when we’re in California.
I feel tense without a drink to fiddle with. Shifting on the heels of my boots, I lose my footing a little. Someone catches me—I hope it’s Reid, but I know it’s not as soon as the overwhelming cologne hits me. I don’t recognize him, but he clearly knows me. He steadies me as I reach for the table. It grounds me, that way I can shrug him off of me.
“Baddie Addie in the flesh.”
The blush is involuntary—I hate that nickname even more than I hate Blondie. But it’s how everyone on the circuit refers to me, so I need to get over it. Every rider gets anointed with some catchy nickname eventually, and that’s the one that stuck withme. I’m not sure I’ll ever be completely comfortable with the sexual connotation that it carries.
He has jet black hair and striking blue eyes. His skin is a light tawny color and his accent is alluring. He’s objectively stunning, but I still can’t place his name even though I know I’ve seen him at many races.
“Oh, I’m wounded.” He clutches his chest like he’s in pain, but it’s not nearly as charming as when Reid does it.
“I’m sorry. I’m not great with names.”
He brushes it off like it’s no big deal, but I’ve threatened his ego a little. Honestly, I don’t even feel bad about it. Most riders could use a reality check.
“I almost didn’t recognize you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”
The fabric of my dress feels scratchy between my fingers. I’m missing my comfort jacket right about now. I feel exposed, and I hate that Reid once again knows me better than I know myself.
Who did I think I was? I can’t pull off a skimpy little sundress in a dive bar no matter how hard I try.
