“I’ve been sure since I was fifteen years old and you taught me to ride my first bike.” I lean closer, hands braced on his shoulders.
“We need to get out of here,” Ghost says suddenly.
I glance at them and my breath hitches. Titan’s hand is strangling the glass, his jaw locked, his eyes following every shift of my body on Ash’s lap like he’s carving it into memory. Ghost isn’t any better. His chest is rising too fast, pupils blown wide, control gone. The way he stares at me pulls heat low in my belly.
“Agreed,” Titan adds, eyes locked on mine. “This conversation isn’t happening here.”
3
BONNIE
Titan moves before I can process what’s happening.
One second I’m on Ash’s lap, the next I’m hoisted over Titan’s shoulder like a sack of grain. Blood rushes to my head as the world tilts sideways.
“Jesus Christ, Titan!” I smack his back, but he’s already walking toward the door.
“What? You said you wanted us.” His hand stays firm on the back of my thighs. “I’m just helping move things along.”
Ash is suddenly beside us, shaking his head but grinning. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah, but I’m the idiot carrying her out of here.” Titan adjusts me on his shoulder. “You coming or what?”
Ghost’s already at the door, holding it open. He looks at me dangling upside down, and I swear I catch the hint of a smirk before his expression goes neutral again.
“Can you please put me down?” I ask, though I’m laughing now despite myself.
“Nope.” Titan carries me straight through the door into the night air.
The blonde waitress calls something after us, but none of them even turn around. Ghost tosses cash on a table near the exit without breaking stride.
Outside, Titan finally sets me on my feet. I’m dizzy from being upside down and have to grab his arm to steady myself.
“You’re insane,” I tell him.
The night air hits my face and clears some of the whiskey fog. Stars scatter across the sky above the parking lot where our bikes sit waiting.
“Probably.” He grins down at me. “You good to ride?”
The whiskey’s still buzzing through my system, but the adrenaline has cleared most of the fog. “I can handle my bike.”
“You’re drunk,” Titan corrects. “And none of us are letting you ride like this.”
“So what, I just leave my bike here?”
“I’ll have one of the prospects pick it up tomorrow,” Ash says. “They’ll drop it at the clubhouse.”
I want to argue, but he’s right. The whiskey’s still fuzzing the edges of everything, and the last thing I need is to wrap my Softail around a tree.
“Fine. Where are we going?” I ask, straightening my jacket.
“The cabin.” Ghost’s already on his bike. “It’s secure.”
The cabin. I’ve heard about it but never been there. The place where they go when they need to plan operations out of sight.
Ash swings onto his Dyna and holds out his hand. I take it, sliding onto the seat behind him. My arms lock around his waist, and even through his jacket, I feel the heat of him, the hard lines of muscle shifting as he settles the bike. The vibration hums up through me, into the places already aching for him.
Titan and Ghost flank us as we pull out of the parking lot. The rumble of three engines fills the night, and I press closer to Ash’s back as we hit the highway.
