Aiden’s face twisted, something between pure frustration and hatred. His jaw clenched, but I caught the flicker of amusement before he covered it.
At least our horror-drama movie wasn’t boring.
I waited long enough to see him grab the first of the fallen bikes before I slipped into the crowd.
Let him deal with the fallout.
I walked away, pulse steadying with every step that carried me out of the chaos.
But I felt his gaze on me—hot, heavy, and impossible to ignore.
I could run. I could hide. I could swear I didn’t care.
It wouldn’t matter.
Because Aiden would always be there.
And the worst part? I wanted him to be.
Chapter 2
Aiden
Rule #1: Don’t get distracted while riding at high speeds.
Some days, Evie was the best thing in my entire life.
Other days, she was my own walking nightmare, a force of nature designed to ruin me.
I don’t know what type of horrifying shit I did in my past lives to deserve the wrath of Evie, but I must have been some kind of asshole because this was hell on earth.
After forty-five minutes of dealing with pissed-off bikers, I’d had enough. The girl who’d waited inside? She was long gone. Not that it mattered, she had only been someone I could look at instead of staring at Evie all night.
Evie, tall and impossible to ignore, long blonde hair catching the light, those dark blue eyes sparking with something feral. Beautiful, cunning, wild enough to earn the name Psycho—and wear it like it belonged to her.
I needed something to keep my eyes—and mind—off her.
And really, the only thing I cared about now would be getting home to yell at Evie and finally get some sleep.
After working forty-eight hours straight, I only wanted a carefree night out, but Evie wasn’t about to let it happen.
I parked in the garage and stalked inside, keeping my pace measured. Anger simmered under the surface, but I wasn’t about to let it get the best of me. Not tonight. She’d be in her room—she always retreated when her chaos caught up to her. Evie rarely felt shame, but even she would lie low after getting dumped in front of a packed bar. She usually called the shots, ending things when she felt like it, and this one had dragged out long enough for me to wonder if she actually liked him.
“Evie,” I called out, my voice sharp as I climbed the stairs and turned down the hallway. The Fletcher Mansion was ours now—even if we’d acquired it by less than honest means. The previous owner was dead and, thanks to Evie’s hacking skills, in his will the place was left to Regan—Rook’s girlfriend—who didn’t mind when we all moved in. We’d been debating a name change for weeks, but nothing had stuck.
“Evie,” I called again, as I made it to a hallway full of bedrooms. Three of us had rooms down this one—Evie, Zack, and I—with Hero, Rook, and Mason down another, and Kane downstairs off the living room. I gave one hard knock on the door—it took everything in me not to kick it down—but my conscience got the best of me, and I held back. When she didn’t answer, I gave her one more second before throwing it open.
She lay sprawled on the bed, her phone raised in one hand, the glow of the TV flickering in the dark. She didn’t even bother to look at me, as if I hadn’t dealt with her latest disaster for the better part of an hour.
“Evie,” I said, the words scraped out, low and tense. “What thefuckis your problem?”
She shifted her gaze from her phone, one eyebrow raised in mock innocence. “Oh, we’re doing this now? Okay. What’s myproblem?” she asked, every word dripping with annoyance. “You, apparently.”
I leaned over the bed, her legs pinned beneath me. My hands shook from the urge to wrap them around her damn throat. I thought the drive home would cool me off, she’d wrecked my whole night, and seeing her now—relaxed and somehow annoyed with me—only sharpened the fury I’d tried to bury.
Evie always found a way to rule my days and nights, and I never could quite figure out how she did it so effortlessly.
“Me? What the fuck does that mean?” I demanded.
