He narrows his eyes at me, full suspicion, and then he does a little self-pat-down like I’m lying and he’s about to press charges.
"...Thanks."
I cup my ear. "What was that? Didn’t hear you."
He snaps his head up. "I said THANK YOU, asshole."
I grin. "Much better." God, he’s fun to bother.
"You always do this?" I shout over the sound. "Storm off dramatically just ’cause you got kissed?"
He clenches his jaw. Doesn’t respond. "Come on, Rava," I grin, leaning on the handlebars as I pass by again.
"It’s not like I’m gonna bite. Unless you want me to."
He shoots me a death glare. I almost die laughing.
"Where are you even going?" he finally snaps. I slow down, make one last loop, then pull up in front of him.
"Picking up a friend from the station," I say, casual as hell. "Station?"
"Yeah. They took him in last night."
"For what?"
"He headbutted some asshole at a club. The dude was being gross with a girl. My guy stepped in, and, well… now I gotta play Uber from jail."
Rava lifts a brow. "Classic day for you street rats."
Street rats. That’s what he calls us. I lean back on my bike.
"Street rats, huh?"
He looks away like he’s innocent.
I push off the bike and walk toward him. "You played poker with me." I tilt my head. "And you won."
He swallows.
I take one more step.
"Then you hopped onthisbike," I remind him, "while we were being chased by the police."
His eyes flicker. I smirk. God, he’s easy to ruin.
"And while we were running for our lives?" I lean in just a little. "You covered my license plate with your damn hand."
My voice drops. "Which innocent little angel does that?"
He swallows again, nervous. I get even closer.
"You’re a lot less pure than you think you are, Ravioli."
I wink. "And that’s not a bad thing. Anyway. Where areyougoing?"
He crosses his arms. "I’m waiting for Dario and Carla."
I blink. "Those twostillexist?"
