Gus finds his own spot in the cuddle puddle by curling up on Dean’s pillow. And thanks to Dean’s added litter box for him in the en suite, Gus has easy access to his water and toilet if he should need it.
Everett’s out of the house by the time we get up and moving. Maria tells Dean that he had meetings all morning across town but would be back in time for lunch.
I run down to my room quickly to change and give Jules a hug before we head out on a very important mission. The guys told me they want to take me somewhere special, and if my intuition is correct, I know where we’re going.
“Have fun!” she shouts at me as I race back into the main house, heading to the front door to meet the guys.
Both of them are on their bikes when I get outside. Asher somehow looks hotter than ever in a Legends hockey hoodie, and Dean’s wearing a T-shirt, his arms crossed over his chest, drawing the fabric taut over his bulging muscles. Both of them are wearing joggers and tennis shoes. I’m a second from sayingscrew itso we can head back up to their rooms.
I may not be decked out in Legends gear, instead opting for a lavender hoodie and leggings, paired with my cute lace-accented brown combat boots. My hair is still wavy from yesterday, and with a little dry shampoo and a couple of corrected curls, it looks as fresh as ever.
I trot down the stairs, excited to see them, as if we’d been apart for days, not minutes. Dean lifts his hand as I approach, exposing the key rings and dangling keys.
“What are those for?” I ask.
He picks one out of the group. “This one is for our front door, even though I doubt you’ll ever need it.” He switches to a different key, holding up a fob. “This one is to your new chariot in the garage.”
Stop.
“And this one … is to your parents’ house, where we’re going right now.”
My breath catches. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
He thrusts the keys forward, and I take them, storing them in my crossbody purse and zipping it shut, securing the small latch I sewed on so it doesn’t come undone on the bike.
“Thank you,” I exhale, leaning forward and kissing the front of his helmet.
“Uh-uh.” He scoffs, tearing the helmet from his head and slipping an arm around my waist, yanking me back toward him. “Come here.”
His lips collide with mine, fervent and intense. The tip of his tongue parts my lips, and I grant him access. I get lost in our kiss, which deepens and heats up. The world melts away as he gets his fill and I happily get mine.
Asher playfully clears his throat—being a brat, like always, as if I’m not going to kiss him too.
With his visor up on his helmet, he lifts something from the other side of his bike—a pastel blue helmet that matches their black ones. “Your crown, Princess.”
I smile, giddily rushing over and taking it from him. “Oh my God! It’s perfect.”
Slipping it over my hair, I secure it in place, and Asher makes fast work of securing the strap under my chin before patting my head.
“Hop on.” He winks at me. “It’s only fair since Dean got to shove his tongue down your throat.”
Chuckling, I slide onto the back of his bike, wrapping my arms around his firm waist.
Turning his head, he smirks. “Don’t worry. I plan on shoving my tongue in all kinds of places tonight.”
Once again, I find myself thankful for the helmet for hiding my blush. Although, at this point, I have no shame in the way I feel for them. I don’t need to hide anything from them.
“Should we race?” Asher laughs, revving the engine of his Ducati.
I squeal, squeezing him tighter. “No!”
“Oh, come on, Princess. Live a little.” He laughs.
“Let’s go!” Dean puts his helmet on and takes off, leading us around the curve of the driveway and toward the gate.
The wind cuts through my sweatshirt as we pull onto the main roads, after waving at Roy, who I also owe a lot to for keeping my cover.
I’ve never felt freer than I do right now, racing through Evermore on the back of Asher’s bike, following Dean as we head straight to my parents’ house. It’s not a long ride there, but I soak up every second, clinging to Asher, feeling the rush of the air, and giggling every time he scoots his butt back into me.
