Page 122 of Bend

Draygon glances toward him, then back at me. “Go. I’ll grab us rooms.”

“Us?”

“Fucking right. I want yours closest to mine. Easy access to what’s mine.”

I snort. “Subtle.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

He gives my waist one last squeeze before letting me go.

“Go handle your shit, pretty girl. I’ve got this.”

I head toward Andre before Draygon can say anything else that’ll make it worse.

After that, the day disappears fast.

Unloading. Inventory. Briefings. Going over the bikes we’ve been given by our sponsors and figuring out what needs changing before any of the guys start pushing them.

The bikes are the easy part.

I understand bikes.

I’ve got setup sheets spread across the bench while I work my way through them one by one, making notes for each rider.

Wolfe will want the front softened a little.

Talon’s going to want it steadier under hard braking.

Reign will probably complain about the rear end before he’s even finished his first run.

And Revel will tell me something “feels weird” until I threaten him into using actual words.

That part feels normal.

Everything around it doesn’t.

Officials keep coming through. Sponsor reps are everywhere. Every change needs to be written down. People keep asking questions while I’m trying to work.

Then there are the cameras.

I’m bent over Wolfe’s bike checking the suspension when a photographer crouches near the bay and starts snapping pictures.

A flash goes off right beside me.

I look up. “Seriously?”

He lowers the camera. “Just getting some prep shots.”

“Cool. Maybe without the flash in my face?”

He winces. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Thanks.”

I go straight back to the bike.

Wolfe is sitting on a stool nearby while I work, and he hides a laugh behind his fist.