The next morning, I awoke with my thoughts swimming with all things Sundance. He’d been filling my head since I’d run into him the morning before, dreaming about him in my sleep, and I couldn’t seem to shake him. God, what the hell was my problem? He was a biker. I had no business mooning over a biker. Bikers weren’t good people.
But a girl could fantasize, right? I mean, Jax Teller was a very delicious fantasy. I’d just put Sundance in the same category. Pretend he was SOA and not real. Envision him only when utilizing my battery-operated boyfriend.
Which I’d have to wait to put into motion, since I had plans. I changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed my bag, and headed out to take my brother on a day trip. The news of the death of our dad hit him harder than that of our mother, so I’d been taking him somewhere new every week, and I really hoped today would cheer him up a little.
I walked into the facility to find Teddy pacing the foyer, wringing his hands, and counting out of order. I frowned. “Teddy Bear, you okay?”
“Riot!” he cried, running to me and pulling me in for a bear hug.
I couldn’t breathe, so I tickled his sides. “You’re crushing me, buddy.” Teddy released me, but kept his arm around my shoulders and I smiled up at his doctor.
The man was gorgeous. Tall with dark hair and deep brown eyes. He looked a bit like Henry Cavill in Mission Impossible. I often wondered why I couldn’t fall for someone like him. Not that he’d offered, but still, he would be a perfectly acceptable man to date.
He just didn’t excite my vagina.
“He’s been animated all night. He could barely sleep, so I let him come and wait here,” Dr. Hilliard said with a smile.
“Thank you.” I gave Teddy a squeeze. “Was he upset?”
“No. He’s been upbeat all week,” Dr. Hilliard said.
“That’s great.” I looked up at my brother. “How are you doing, Teddy Bear?”
He bobbed his head up and down. “Good, Riot. Skee-ball!”
I chuckled. “You bet. Skee-ball, here we come.”
He released me and clapped his hands, jumping up and down.
“I’ll have him back by curfew,” I promised.
“Have fun,” Dr. Hilliard said.
“Shotgun!” Teddy called and headed for the front doors.
I chuckled. “Yeah buddy, you get the best seat.”
He called ‘shotgun’ whenever he was getting in a car, on a bus, in a boat (okay, he’d never been on a boat, but if he did, he’d probably call ‘shotgun’). Dad had told him that if he claimed his spot, he’d always get the best seat anywhere he went, so he rolled with it.
I guided Teddy out to my car and helped him get settled in the passenger seat, then made my way to the driver’s side. “You ready to have some fun?”
“Fun!” he bellowed, and I laughed.
“Okay, it’s gonna be a drive. Remember, it takes a little while to get to Denver.”
“I know, Riot.”
And he did. Once he went somewhere, he knew exactly how to get there again. He was like a GPS who kept your previous destinations stored forever.
“Okay, good. What do you want to listen to?”
He grinned at me. “Van Halen!”
“What?” I said in mock surprise. “I had no idea!”
He laughed. “You’re silly, Riot.”
“I’ve been told that before.” I pressed play on my iPod, having already cued up every album Van Halen had ever released, and then pulled out of the parking lot.
