Her gaze settled on his cut, at the patch there.Instead of flinching or stepping back, it seemed her interest sharpened.He could see it in the way her eyes lingered, the way her mouth tilted slightly.
Oh yeah.That did it.
“Figures,” she said.
“Supposed to be scared now,” he muttered.
She snorted, the sound quick and unguarded.“Of a guy who almost wiped out trying not to hit me?Hardly.”
Heat sparked in his gut, sharp and unwanted.He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or snarl, which only irritated him more.
“You always mouth off like that?”he asked.
“Only when someone deserves it,” Ivy said, unrepentant.
He stepped closer again, close enough to feel the heat rolling off her body, close enough to catch the faint scent of paint and something clean underneath.Soap, maybe.Something simple.Human.His irritation tangled with something darker and heavier, a pull he hadn’t felt since before the world had gone gray and hollow.
It had been far too long since a woman had made him feel anything but tired.She didn’t back down.
“Next time,” he said lowly, voice dropping, “watch where you’re standing.”
“Next time,” she replied just as quietly, eyes locked on his, “watch where you’re riding.”
They stared at each other, the moment stretched tight as wire.Havoc felt the old familiar itch in his hands, the one that came before trouble, but this wasn’t that.This wasn’t violence or rage or the need to break something.
This was something else.A pull he didn’t have words for and didn’t want.Finally, he stepped back.It seemed safer, although it was ridiculous he was wary of such a pretty little thing like her.
“Be careful,” he said gruffly, swinging back onto the bike.
Ivy tilted her head, that dangerous little smile still playing on her lips.“You too.”
He fired the engine, the roar tearing through the space between them.As he rolled away, he caught her in the mirror, standing exactly where he’d left her, watching him go.Her expression was unreadable.Her eyes were bright.
The encounter shouldn’t have mattered, except it did.
The road stretched ahead, asphalt unspooling beneath his wheels, but his thoughts stayed behind, tangled in paint streaks and storm-colored eyes.Havoc rode harder than necessary, pushing speed and edge, trying to shake the feeling crawling under his skin.
He didn’t.For the first time in years, someone had looked him in the eye and refused to move.
