Page 189 of Revv

Cece knows what she signed up for.

Well.

She’s still pretending she hasn’t signed anything, but details.

I grab my phone, helmet, and keys.

Before I make it out the door, Cece texts.

Cece: My mom made enough food to feed the entire team so come hungry.

My mouth pulls into a grin.

Me: Was planning on eating you after. Does that count?

The typing bubble appears immediately.

Cece: I am revoking your invitation.

Me: Too late mama. Already dressed.

Cece: Seven. Pendejo.

Me: Miss you too.

She reacts with a middle finger.

Perfect.

I pocket my phone and head out.

The ride takes me toward a shopping center not far from her neighborhood, one of those massive Florida strips where everything is shoved together under glowing signs.

Grocery store. Pharmacy. Liquor store. A couple restaurants. Some home decor place nobody has ever willingly gone into without being dragged.

I park near the grocery store entrance and pull off my helmet.

Flowers first.

Because I might be reckless, but I’m not fucking stupid.

Inside, the air-conditioning hits cold against my skin. Saturday evening has the place busy enough that carts keep cutting across aisles, kids are whining near the bakery, and somebody’s abandoned one of those motorized scooters directly in front of the flower display like they died mid-shop.

I grab two bouquets.

One is bright as fuck—pink, purple, blue, and way too much going on. Perfect for Cece.

The other is simpler. White flowers mixed with some green shit that looks classy enough to convince her mother I do have at least some manners.

Well, fuck. Look at me.

All domestic and shit.

The guys would never let me live this down.

Wine, however, is harder.

I stare at an entire wall of bottles like one of them is supposed to introduce itself.