I have to give Hal props because he doesn’t so much as raise his eyebrows at my unfortunate name. My mother thought it would be adorable to give us all bird names to match our surname. Like most of what that woman did, she didn’t really care about how her choices affected us.
“Gotcha, ma’am. Rook and Az are done with Dave, so why don’t you go wait with them? I’ll be out in two flaps.” Giving me another bright smile, he jogs over to his two friends and has a hushed conversation with them.
After some whispered shouting I can’t quite make out, Hal strides to the back of the dealership and disappears from view.
CHAPTER 3
LARK
Rook and Azrael make their way over to me.
When they reach me, I try to give them an out. “You guys don’t have to keep me company. I’m perfectly capable of waiting for the bike myself.”
“Nah, we don’t mind.” Rook places his hand on the small of my back and leads me out into the now fully dark evening. Even though he’s only touching my leather jacket, everything in me still lights up at the contact. I mercilessly shove the feeling down. “Wanna look at our bikes?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
Rook leads me over to a trio of black-and-red motorcycles with Azrael following like our silent shadow.
I huff when I realize what the bikes are. “Of course you have Ducatis. You three look like you’d ride Ducatis,” I mumble to myself.
Rook barks out a laugh. “What do you mean, we look like we’d ride Ducatis?”
My cheeks burn as I realize I muttered that a bit too loud. “Um. It’s just that you guys scream money. You’re either old money or came into money long enough ago that you don’t feel the need to have flashy branded everything. Instead, everythingyou’re wearing, from your suits to your watches to your boots, is expensive as hell in an understated way. While Ducatis aren’t understated at all, they’re exactly the type of flashy that pairs well with the kind of rich you are.”
“You’re observant,” Rook notes as he sweeps his gray gaze over me. I shrug and avoid eye contact. There’s a reason I’m observant, and it’s not anything I want to share with an equally hot and terrifying stranger. “Wanna sit on my bike? Hal will try to tell you his Streetfighter V4 is better, but my Superleggera V4 is rarer and objectively the best.”
I can’t help the smile that crosses my lips at his bragging. “I won’t pick a favorite, but, yeah, it’d be cool to sit on it.”
He grins at me, which transforms his face from harsh and imposing to almost boyish. Rook gently steers me toward the red and black bike farthest from us. When we reach it, he takes my helmet from my hands and gestures for me to get on.
Cautiously grabbing the handlebars of the bike that’s worth more than everything I own many times over, I hesitantly straddle the beast of a machine. When I stand it up, I can barely touch the ground on both sides with how wide and tall the seat is.
“I can turn it on so you can rev it if you want.” Rook watches me from in front of the bike, not seeming worried in the slightest that I’ll damage his hundred-thousand-dollar motorcycle.
After getting an enthusiastic nod from me, Rook shoves his key in and flips on the kill switch before pushing the ignition button.
The bike thunders to life underneath me, and I can feel the vibrations thumping in my chest. I twist the throttle, and the bike roars so loud I’m pretty sure the entire city can hear it.
I know I have a stupid smile on my face as I rev it a few more times, but I can’t help it. Rook’s Ducati is something else.
Rook’s crazy loud motorcycle drowns out the sound of Hal pulling up on my ZX-6R. Noticing Hal, I shut off Rook’s bike. Once I’m off the Superleggera and have it safely on its kickstand, I beam at Rook. “Thanks for letting me rev it. That was super cool.”
His crooked grin causes butterflies to swarm in my stomach. “Anytime, Lark.”
Before I can respond, Hal bounds over. “Wanna get on my Streetfighter and rev it? It’s not as rare, and it’s tame until 9k rpm. Then it rides like it wants to rip your arms off and beat you to death with them, which is pretty fun.”
I snort at his description. “I feel like that shouldn’t make me want to ride it, but it definitely does.”
Hal bounces up and down on his toes in excitement. “I knew you were my kind of woman, wild girl. Hop on.”
I do the best to ignore the way him saying I’m his anything makes my heart skip a beat because that’s nothing but trouble. The last thing I need while I’m still trying to pick up the pieces of my life is any sort of trouble.
After settling in the seat, I rev Hal’s bike and enjoy the deep, throaty growl of his engine. While hearing the Ducatis will probably make my bike sound pretty lame, it was totally worth it to sit on such cool bikes.
Flipping the kill switch and twisting the key to shut off the bike, I clamber off, unable to hide my delighted grin. “That was fun. Thanks, Hal.”
“Of course!” Hal tosses a keychain to me. I catch it reflexively and glance down at the black fabric with “Ninja” stitched in green. “Here’s your key. I aired up the tires a touch and tightened the chain. Other than that, everything looked good on the bike. I forgot to grab your address, but, once that’s filled out, you should get the title in four to eight weeks.”
