“Then what is it? No need for speed?”
She sighs as she fiddles with my equipment and does whatever the fuck it is nurses do.
“I’m just not into the whole biker thing.”
“Then what are you into?”
“Working out. I like to work out.” Her answer is clipped.
“What a coincidence. I also like towork out.” I smile suggestively.
Kayla doesn’t seem to buy into my charms, but I pursue it anyway. “Maybe we can work out together sometime.” I put my hand on her thigh.
She raises an eyebrow at me.
“Mr. Dane, if you feel like you need to stretch your legs, please feel free to take a walk. Right off a cliff.” She brushes my hand away.
Whoa.
“I would kill to see you on the back of my bike.”
“You have an imagination. Use it,” she returns curtly.
What the fuck? She’s rude as hell, and all it does is turn me the fuck on. “I have. Baby, I think the only thing hotter than you straddling me is you straddling my bike.”
Kayla pauses all movements. I press my head into my pillow because I’m pretty sure she’s going to slap me.
To my surprise, she just shakes her head and laughs. “You’re as bad as your brother.”
“Because we’re both compulsive flirts?”
“Flirts? Try compulsive players.”
“We do share the exact same DNA.”
Kayla just huffs. “Is there anything you need before I go? I have seven other patients I need to see.”
I have a laundry list of things I need from Kayla. I wasn’t kidding about her straddling me.
“I’m good for now,” I lie.
“If you need anything, you know what to do.”
“Yup. Ring, ring.” I watch her strut out of the room, her slim hips and tight ass on full display.
* * *
It’s three a.m.and I’ve done nothing but toss and turn. My mind won’t turn off. I just keep thinking and thinking and thinking. About the accident, about racing, about my career, about my life, and surprisingly, about Kayla.
Three months out of commission. That means three missed races, a shit ton of lost points, and a wasted chance at defending my title. I’ll be thirty in February. Young by society’s standards, ancient in the racing world. I think that’s what kills me the most—not knowing if I have another championship year left in me. Being forced to watch some young hotshot take it all because I’ve burned out. I left home when I was eighteen years old and never looked back. My first year going pro, I placed in almost every race, catapulting my career. The past three years I’ve come into my own, becoming world champion two times over. This year, I was defending my title for the third time--a formidable feat.
Lying here in the dark thinking about it makes me goddamn crazy.
I ring compulsively for a nurse.
“Yes, Mr. Dane?” Kayla’s voice comes over the speaker.
“I need to pee.”
