Page 50 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

Something in his tone feels… off. More accusing than teasing, as if I owe him something.

“I got distracted,” I say carefully.

His eyes narrow slightly. “By whoever did that?” He nods toward my neck.

Dani sputters. Tyler frowns, glancing at her briefly before returning his laser focus on me.

I force a small laugh. “You’re a flirt, Tyler.”

His expression doesn’t soften. “And? Doesn’t mean we can’t date.”

“Honestly?” I shrug lightly. “We’d probably drive each other insane. I don’t think I’m the kind of woman you’d want to be with, too many cheat days,” I add, trying to make light of it.

A bark of laughter erupts from Dani. Tyler’s clenched jaw twitches in annoyance. He pauses, nostrils flaring. “So that’s a no?”

I try to smile apologetically. “I like you, but yeah.”

Dani makes a strangled sound beside me. Tyler stares at me for several seconds too long. Finally, he smiles again, painting it on, a forced smile that’s cold around the edges and doesn’t meet his eyes. “Right,” he says softly. “Got it.”

Before I can respond, a familiar voice drawls behind me: “Well damn, bro, that sucks. Rejected before ten AM.”

Heat floods my body instantly as I turn to see who it is: Dash. I immediately understand why every woman nearby suddenly looks distracted. He’s wearing gray sweatshorts slung low on his hips and a black tank top that leaves his tattooed, muscular arms completely exposed. Women openly stare as he saunters closer with lazy confidence. He notices every second of it, too. Unfortunately.

Dani leans over and grips my arm hard enough to bruise. “Oh boy,” she whispers delightedly. “That one’s a problem.”

Massive problem.

Dash grins at me. “Morning, sweetheart.”

Tyler stiffens beside me. “Friend of yours?” Tyler asks tightly.

Dash glances at him casually. “Soon to be a very close friend,” he murmurs, winking at me. I hate that it makes me blush.

Tyler’s jaw tightens. “Is this guy bothering you?” he asks me.

I blink.

Dash bursts out laughing, completely unthreatened, which only pisses Tyler off more. I ignore him and look at Tyler. “No,” I say quickly. “He’s a friend.” I glare at Dash. “And a wiseass.”

Dash grins wider, doing a little bow.

Tyler doesn’t look reassured. “Right. Well,” he says slowly, eyes still fixed on Dash, “I gotta go teach a class. Good seeing you, Sadie.”

“Nice to meet you!” Dash declares, in an enthusiastic tone that sounds patronizing.

The second he walks away, Dani exhales loudly. “Okay.” She fans herself dramatically. “Is it just me, or was that super-hot?”

I laugh helplessly. “More like super-awkward.”

Dash watches Tyler disappear across the gym floor, his expression suddenly contemplative. “I don’t like him…” he says quietly.

Something about the sudden seriousness in his tone catches me off guard. “Why?”

Dash shrugs one shoulder. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, something in the way he looked at you.”

A chill skitters briefly down my spine. But then Dash grins again, storm cloud passing, his mood shifting fast enough to make me dizzy. “But enough about Captain Compression.”

“That’s what I call him!” Dani says, holding out her hand. “I’m Dani, best friend.”