He just gives me a flat stare-glare. I shiver again. There is something deeply disturbing in my psyche that Ryder, annoyed, turns me on.
“Take a right over there,” I say, pointing to the road coming up.
“That’s not the way to Ed’s.”
“Just trust me. Hard right.Now.”
He makes the turn. The way he works the steering wheel with capable concentration, his arms tense with muscles, just does it for me. I try to stop ogling Ryder and concentrate on the road, which will take us back onto the coastal route.
“Good job waiting until the last minute,” I say, looking behind us. “Only one motorcycle made it.”
“That’s not a good thing. It’s a pap. We lost our bodyguards.”
“No biggie. We don’t need bodyguards where we’re going. Wanna have some fun?”
“Daisy…”
I laugh. God, I love his expression. He thinks I’m a menace? I’m going to menace him all night long. He deserves it.
“Lose the motorcycle,” I instruct.
“Really? What if he’s your best bud, Colin? Or Rosalie?” he taunts.
“I’m impressed. You remembered their names. If it were Rosalie, I’d be tempted to let her follow us. I’m rooting for her to succeed. But nope. It’s Jared. I recognize his red bike. He always crowds me when I walk by and stares at me in a creepy way. And he did a boob-graze thing yesterday. You know, when a guy touches your boobs but pretends it was an accident.”
“The fuck he did.” Now hereallylooks pissed.
But he doesn’t speed up. Instead, he slows down. Meanders, almost. I notice how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. And how his mouth has turned up an inch. He’s got something planned.
The road goes into a sharp bend. I look behind me again and see that the motorcycle is just far enough away that it’s disappeared behind the curve in the road for a second.
And that’s when Ryder makes an unexpected turn. Fast and hard.
I scream and reach my hands out to brace myself. Whatever he’s turned into isn’t a road. It’s a field.
He drives just far enough that we’re covered in a tall crop of plants, and then he immediately cuts the power and lights.
The world goes black.
I hear the squeal of tires pass us.
We wait, silent, my breath coming in quick gasps.
“He’s gone.” There’s shivery excitement in my voice. I laugh, jubilant. “Holy shit, that was a baller move, Mr. Black.”
I make out his profile in the dark. He grins.
“What is this place? How’d you know to do that?”
“It’s a popular make-out spot for the townies.”
“Don’t tell me. You brought Mallory Sweet and her tiny white shorts here?”
“Nope. It was Sheila Rodriguez, if I recall. And she was partial to tiny dresses, not shorts.”
I nod knowingly. “Easier access. Especially in a tight car.”
And then my mouth goes dry when I see the way Ryder watches me. His fiery eyes travel down my body, and I realize that I’m wearing a tiny dress. And he would, indeed, have easy access. We’re in this warm, dark space on a hot summer night. And I need him to kiss me like I need my next breath.
