Page 142 of Hearts Storm

Logan gets up, dusting his hands off on his shorts with a scowl.

The second he’s upright, I give him another shove. “Dick.”

“Asshole,” he growls, shoving me even harder, causing me to stumble into the pole behind me with a clang.

“Seriously?” Reyna throws her hands up. “You two are worse than a couple of toddlers.”

“Tell him to stop gloating,” Logan growls, not taking his eyes off me.

“Tell him to stop being a sore loser,” I counter with another shove.

“That’s it,” she hisses.

Grabbing each of us by the back of the neck, she pulls our faces down to her level—which is no small feat for someone so tiny.

Damn, she’s strong.

“If you two don’t cut it out right now, you’re going to be sucking your own dicks for a week. Got it?”

When Logan opens his mouth to argue, Reyna silences him with a glare that could freeze the balls off the devil himself.

My eyes go wide as my dick flexes in response.

A couple of the guys behind us snort, trying to smother their laughter.

We decided collectively a couple of weeks ago to let the crew in on our “dating” situation. They were starting to get suspicious anyway. Logan was more than apprehensive about it, but the guys didn’t even bat an eye. In fact, they wished us well.

“Jesus, Rey,” I mutter, heat creeping up my neck.

Logan grunts, muscle twitching at his temple. “We’re done.”

“Good boy.” She lets go, adjusting her sports bra with a satisfied nod. “Now, since both of you clearly need to burn off some extra energy, you can each drop and give me fifty.”

“Push ups?” I ask incredulously.

“You bet your ass.”

Logan snorts. “You did this to yourself, you know.”

With a smirk, I drop down on all fours. “Worth it.”

sixty-three

Chopper blades whomp overhead as I get my helicopter ready.

I’ve already strapped Renya into the passenger seat, helped her with her headset, and finished my pre-flight check.

The sky bleeds orange and pink along the horizon, and the sun is just starting to dip behind the Cascades.

Stomach full from our amazing dinner date at Fireside Pub, I’m excited to get the ball rolling on my plans for the rest of the night.

“You good?” I ask, adjusting my mic.

Reyna’s eyes are wide, darting between me and the windshield. Even though she’s got a white-knuckle grip on her seatbelt, there’s a smile playing at the corners of her mouth telling me she’s more excited than she is scared.

Her voice hums in my ears through my headset. “Never been in a helicopter before,” she admits.

“Well, you’re definitely in for a treat.” I flash her a grin and reach across the dash to flip a few switches. The engine whines higher, and the rotors pick up speed.