But I'm torn away from her before I know what's happening. Jacob, her brothers, and Jax drag me toward the exit and into the bar, along with Bucky, Matrix, and my teammates.
I'm not twenty-one, and neither is Jagger, but Jacob and Jax hand both of us a shot of whiskey and then a beer. The bar soon fills up with riders, their coaches, agents, and sponsors.
One person after another approaches me. Several agents, a few sponsors, and people I've never met all seek me out.
It's overwhelming but exciting. Jax stays with me the entire time, collecting their business cards and helping me handle the conversations.
The drinks keep flowing, and when Jacob finally says it's time to head home, it's dark out.
I grab my belongings from the changing area and slip into my other clothes. I reach for my phone and swipe the screen.
Shit.
Willow's sent me several text messages.
Willow: I'm so proud of you. You were amazing!
An hour after that.
Willow: I can't wait to kiss you all night.
An hour after that.
Willow: I'm putting on your favorite thong. I'm leaving for our spot now.
A few hours later.
Willow: I don't know why you aren't texting me. I'm leaving so I don't miss curfew and get grounded again.
A new text pops up.
Willow: I'm going to bed. Night.
My gut churns. I click her name and hit the call button. It rings and goes to voicemail.
"This is Willow. Leave a message. Bye."The beep hits my ear.
I slur, "Hey, sugar. I'm coming home soon. Keep those panties on and go to our spot." I hang up and glance at the check one more time before putting it in my pocket.
Thirty. Thousand. Dollars.
Another rush of endorphins hits me as I exit the building and get into Jacob's truck. "Where are the others?" I ask.
Jagger answers, "Sebastian's truck."
"Oh yeah," I say.
"What are you doing with all that cash, hotshot?" Jagger asks.
Jacob interjects, "You should be smart with it and put eighty percent of it in your savings."
Jagger groans. "Don't listen to him. That's not the last purse you'll win. You should get that truck you want."
Jacob shakes his head, advising, "Be smart, Wyatt. Rainy days come often."
Jagger turns around. "What are you going to buy?"
I shrug. "Don't know yet."
