“Yes he fucking did. To be more accurate, Evie brought the lovers’ quarrel to your front door and now I’m taking it back to our place.Ourplace, because we fucking live together.”
Evie rolled her eyes hard. “You say that as if we haven’t lived together for years without anything happening between us.”
“Well, things have happened now and we need to talk, so are you coming with me or am I dragging you out?”
“I’d like to see you try,” she said. “Asher wouldn’t let that happen.”
I didn’t even look at him, my eyes glued to Evie.
“Asher, if you so much as stand up to stop me, I will fucking kill you. I don’t give a fuck who you are.”
I could see his reflection in one of the far mirrors, his hands up in the air.
“Don’t mind me. I’m more interested in how far you can piss Evie off beforeshekillsyou.”
Evie grinned, but I took the opening, dropping my shoulder down and leaning it into her stomach to pick her up. I was taking Evie home with me whether she liked it or not.
Chapter 39
Evie
My knee connected with Aiden’s back but his step didn’t falter.
“Put me down, you ass.”
“Get on the bike. Come talk to me and if you don’t like what I have to say I will bring you right back.”
My arms crossed over my chest as I looked him over.
Aiden always had an edge to him—he was always moody and focused, which led to perpetual resting bitch face—but there was a softness to it now. A pleading behind his words that he only seemed to get with me.
“I’ll go,” I finally said. “But if I do want to come back and you don’t bring me here, we are never going to talk about any of this ever again.”
“Deal. Come on.”
I slipped my helmet on, before steadying my hands on his shoulders to swing on. Hard muscles rippled under my fingertips and I dug in just enough to leave a sting before letting go.
The engine’s steady hum should have drowned out my thoughts, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat. My grip on his waist was firm, yet careful—I didn’t press against him the way I wanted to, didn’t let myself melt into him like I normally did.
I was still mad. I wasn’t letting one ride fix that.
He must have sensed it. Barely a mile down the road, his handslid from the handle, fingers brushing my thigh before resting there with a soft, deliberate squeeze. Heat shot through me, a warning I couldn’t ignore.
“You need to actually hold on to me,” he said, his voice rough through the helmet.
I didn’t answer.
“Evie.” His hand tightened on my leg, his thumb stroking slow circles over my jeans, setting my nerves on fire.
“I’ve ridden enough. I can figure out how to stay on the bike without touching you.” I felt brave saying the words, but my hands trembled at the thought of actually putting my hands on him. What if it was the last time? Could I really keep riding with him if we had to end what we’d started?
“I feel it when you’re mad at me. It’s like I can’t fucking breathe. You can be on the other side of the room or across the fucking town, and I feel it. It’s suffocating, and all I want to do is make you happy again so I can breathe.”
My jaw clenched hard as I held back what I wanted to say. I wanted to yell at him, tell him to maybe admit itwashis fault I was mad this time. Instead, I let my hands drift over his shoulder onto his chest, dragging my nails light enough to make him shiver before I pulled them away.
His breath hitched. His grip on the handlebars flexed.
“Evie,” he warned. “Please.”
