“Oh-kay. Thanks. But is it appropriate?”
“Mostly.” I shrug.
“Mostly? What the hell does that mean?” She frowns and I stifle a laugh.
“Get your ass outside. I’ll meet you in a minute.”
Her angry gaze burns a hole in the back of my head and I internally cringe. There’s a good chance she might hate me for this, though something tells me she won’t. And if it changes her mood toward Christmas, I’m willing to take that risk.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jenna
As I walk out into the front yard, the roar of an engine pulls my focus to the closed garage door.Is that a motorcycle? God, please let it be a motorcycle.
Anticipation coils in my stomach as the door lifts and a thick black tire comes into view. But it’s not until I see the most beautiful Harley-Davidson that my panties all but melt away. I bite back a giddy squeal, my lips parting with desire.
Damn him for making himself a whole lot sexier. As if it wasn’t hard enough to be pissed at him already.
It takes a lot to hurt me when it comes to casual sex, and last night was no exception. It was an utter lapse in judgment. On both our parts. I’d love to blame Mason, only I can’t. While I may not have any romantic feelings for Jack, and I’m ninety percent sure he doesn't feel anything for me, I still shouldn’t be messing with his brother. Because what if I’m ninety percent wrong?
I didn’t come here to hurt Jack. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder what the hell I’m doing here at all...and I can’t hate Mason for that. No matter how badly I want to.
God knows he’s given me plenty of reasons. If I were anyone else, I’m sure I’d be bitter over his brutal rejection. Yet, all I could do was laugh, because to a degree it all makes sense. He doesn’t want to hurt his brother any more than I do, and the girl blowing up his phone… Somehow, I knew, without confirmation from the panic in his eyes, that it wasn't what it looked like.
It's barely been two days, and yet, I know without a doubt that Mason’s not the booty-call type. I onlyactedpissed off to fuck with him a little.
It’s what I do.
And apparently, it’s what Mason does too because…of course he rides a motorcycle.
As though he hasn’t noticed my staring, he walks the bike forward and stops beside me, only acknowledging my existence after jumping off and offering me a helmet. “Ground rules,” he snaps, as if he hasanyright to be mad at me after the shit he pulled last night. Instead of arguing, I let this play out. “No talking to me while I’m riding. No screaming in my ear. No complaining about the wind.”
He waves the helmet and I snatch it from his hand. “What if I don’t want to get on your death trap?”
“You do.”
“I do?”
“Jenna, you were practically drooling at the sight of it. I bet you’d beg me for a ride if I said you couldn’t come. Hell, if I checked, I’m certain I’d find your panties soaked from how much you want this.”
Heat pools at my center and I hate that he’s not wrong. “You’ll never know. You blew your shot last night.”
“Good. I got more than enough after one kiss and the peep show you gave me.”
“Use that image a lot, do you?”
“What?” His brows furrow until he seemingly gets my joke and a smile tugs at his lips. “Twice already, so thanks for adding to my spank bank.”
“You’re welcome.” I grin widely as a warmth runs through me, the visual assaulting my mind.God-fucking-dammit.That shouldn’t be so hot.
“Back to the bike,” I say, matching his bitterness. “If I agree to your stupid rules, can we go already?”
“Yep.” He grabs my bag from the ground beside my feet and I study his movement, only then taking in what he’s wearing. And hell… He’s trying to kill me. The asshole rejected me and now he’s walking around like sex on legs.
To undoubtedly fuck with my head, he’s wearing tight black jeans and a weathered leather jacket. I’ve never seen anything sexier. The jacket’s open, giving me a glimpse of his fitted white tee, and I almost drool for real.
Why does he have to be so damn appealing?
