I cross my arms and turn away from him. “Look, I just didn’t want someone seriously injured or worse on my conscience. It’s no big deal. Can we just drop it now?”
“Can you understand why it was so weird to have an Ashworth at the clubhouse?”
I turn to view him over my shoulder.
He gives a slight nod. “I know all about your family. If any of those guys knew who you were, you wouldn’t have made it out of there.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “Is that a threat?”
He shakes his head, and I turn my body toward him. “It’s a warning. I don’t want to see you back there ever again. It’s not safe for someone like you.”
“I saw your bruises. Is it even safe for you?”
Dax pushes off the handlebars and reaches for his helmet, which sits behind him. “Maybe you should get back inside. Your boyfriend looked super pissed you didn’t follow him in.”
I scoff. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Dax wriggles his eyebrows, intrigued. “Then who is he?”
“He’s none of your business.”
Dax laughs. “So he is your date?”
I click my tongue, looking up at the twinkling stars to calm my frustrations.
Dax taps the helmet sitting on his lap. “Oh. He’s someone you want to get away from?”
I look back at Dax, hoping it’s not written all over my face.
He snaps his fingers. “Okay, got you.” He lifts the helmet, offering it to me. “You want an out, then?”
“I thought you just said being around your place wasn’t safe?”
Dax sniggers. “I wouldn’t take you there. I’ll just get you away from here before Mr. Preppy comes strolling out, looking for you.”
I shift my weight between my feet and clutch the strap of my purse before it slips off my shoulder.
Dax hikes a leg over the motorcycle and moves to the rear. He lifts the lid of the small locker trunk anchored to the bike. “You can chuck your bag in here, if you want.”
I grip the strap of my purse tighter, feeling cemented to the footpath.
Dax digs into a pocket of his leather jacket. “Oh, before I forget. I found this on the clubhouse driveway.”
My mouth falls open as I stare at my bracelet in his hand.
His eyebrow raises. “Do you want it back?”
My hand trembles as I reach for it. “You didn’t steal it?”
Dax snorts. “Nice. No, you ripped your hand away from me so fast, I guess the clasp opened.” Dax tilts his head, looking at the slim chain in his hand. “I mean, I thought about keeping it. Looks like it’s worth a pretty penny, but I thought you might be missing it.”
I take the bracelet and clasp it around my wrist. “I was. I feel like I’m missing a limb when it’s gone.”
“Bit dramatic.”
“I just wear it every day, that’s all.”
Dax gestures at the motorcycle. “So you coming or what?”
