“Yeah,” Shea said at last. “You know, I was thinking we should schedule a date night. Just you and me, a bottle of wine, and a cheesy chick flick.”
Now I was certain that she needed help. She never voluntarily watched chick flicks if she had a choice. She was an avid fan of creature features and sci-fi adventures.
And the mention of setting up a date night withmeof all people was the final nail in the coffin.
“Stay on the phone,” I said. “Keep talking. I’m coming to you.”
Without hanging up, I tucked my phone into the inner pocket of my cut.
“Hades, I think Shea has an unwelcome visitor who won’t leave her alone. I could use some backup.”
Hades pushed away from the bar next to Tarzan in an instant.
“I’m right behind you, brother.”
“Ride safe,” Tarzan called after me with a nod.
I saluted as I shouldered the door open and stepped out into the sunlight.
Racing well past the speed limit, Hades and I made it to Hotline in record time. Through the large front windows, I saw Shea and Raine clustered near the front desk. On the other side of the shop was a skinny guy, toying with a set of tattoo equipment.
The body language of the whole scene looked tense and uneasy. Had he threatened them? I’d seen Shea deck a big, burly dude twice her size before. And I knew she kept a shotgun somewhere in the shop for self-defense.
Shea would never call me if she thought she could handle it herself.
I plowed to a stop at the curb and left my bike running, striding into the shop. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t wait for an explanation.
Heading straight for Shea, I scooped an arm around her waist and crushed her against me. Then I sealed my mouth to hers in a soul-searing kiss that left her dazed and breathless. Shea’s phone slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.
“Hey, honey, I’m home,” I said.
Chapter three
Shea
I was kissing my friend.
And it wasfucking incredible.
Wasn’t this supposed to be weird and awkward? Shouldn’t I be grossed out right now?
Instead, I melted at the slick heat of Trooper’s tongue gliding against mine. Curling my fingers around the back of his neck, I held him in place, unwilling to let him go. He slid his hand lower, tucked into the back pocket of my jeans, squeezing my ass.
I moaned into his mouth and I felt the smug bastard smile against my lips.
What seemed like an eternity later, Trooper broke away, with a teasing gleam in his eyes.
“Hey, honey, I’m home,” he said.
I struggled to form a coherent response through the soupy fog of delirium that clouded my brain.
Trooper was matching the act I’d put on over the phone. Pretending to be my boyfriend.
But that kiss…that kiss was real.
Then I remembered the whole reason why I’d called Trooper in the first place. Tearing my attention away from him, I glanced over my shoulder to the other side of the shop.
Kyle Ritter’s gray eyes were hooded, his jaw clenched as he watched us. His hands were fisted at his sides and every muscle in his body was taut as a bowstring, ready to snap.
