Page 33 of Anton

“I said okay, didn’t I?”

“Okay, cool. I’ll just run in and tell Blair I’m heading out, and then we can go. I can follow you to your place.”

“No.”

I pause. “What do you mean, no?”

“If you’re coming with me, you’re getting on my bike.” His full lips cant with a silent challenge, and a hot pulse zaps between my thighs.

“What? No. I can’t do that.”

A low, gravelly chuckle rolls from him. “Okay.”

He turns and starts marching away.

“Wait!”

He stops, though he takes his time whirling back.

“How would I get my car?”

“You give me your keys and one of my men will bring it back to my place.”

This is stupid. I can’t possibly get on a death trap.

But it’s with Anton.

Ugh. Damn it.

“Okay, fine.” I fold my arms over my chest. “But you have to promise not to drive super fast.”

That same almost-smile drags over his mouth. “Sure.”

I narrow my eyes. “That didn’t sound convincing.”

“It was convincing enough.”

I blow out an exhale. “You’re impossible.”

“Yet you’re still getting on my bike.”

I hesitate for half a second, then lift my chin. “If I die, I’m haunting you.”

That half-grin deepens. “Then I guess I’ll make sure you don’t.”

I hurry back inside before Anton can change his mind and find Blair at the bar, talking to two women.

“Shit,” she says when she spots me. “Took you long enough.” She gestures between them. “This is Mallory and Taylor.”

We exchange quick hellos, and I’m relieved she won’t be alone after I leave.

I lean closer and lower my voice. “I have a headache, so I’m going home. I’m sorry. I did have fun, though.”

She huffs. “Sure you did. We both know you only came for me.”

I laugh and pull her into a hug. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will.”