Page 227 of Revv

“Yo! Someone’s here for you.”

A metallic clank sounds behind one of the bikes.

Then a man stands.

Well.

That’s fucking irritating.

He’s tall, broad, dark-haired, wearing black riding pants with the top half of his leathers hanging loose around his hips and a fitted shirt that makes it very obvious God has favorites.

Grease streaks one forearm.

Tattoos cover his chest and arms, with a few small ones along the sides of his face, and the expression on his face says he probably considers smiling an unnecessary use of energy.

His gaze moves to me and stays there.

Not sliding down my body.

Just studying me.

Assessing.

I immediately dislike that.

Mostly because now I’m assessing him right back.

He tosses the wrench in his hand onto the workbench and walks over.

Up close, he’s worse.

Or better.

Depends how committed I am to avoiding bad decisions after moving across the country because of my last one.

“You looking for me?”

Deep voice.

Of fucking course.

I glance down at Emma’s paper one more time, mostly to buy myself half a second because apparently the universe thinks handing hot men access to motorcycles and abs is funny.

“Well, that depends.”

“On?”

He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head like he isn’t actively making my afternoon more complicated.

Well.

Fuck me.

My eyes betray me for exactly one second before I drag them back to his face.

“Are you Ajax Sawyer?”

“Yeah.”