Page 69 of Striker’s Rebel

“No.”

Whatever it is, we’re getting closer.

By the time I pull into Red Den, only a few cars remain in the lot.

June comes out five minutes later.

One look at her and I know something happened.

I get off the bike.

“What happened?”

“Long night.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the one you’re getting until we leave.”

I don’t push her here.

I hold out the helmet.

“You taking me home?”

“My cabin.”

Her eyes lift to mine.

“Was that a question?”

“No.”

The corner of her mouth moves.

“Thought so.”

She puts on the helmet and climbs on behind me.

Her arms wrap around my waist.

I start the bike.

Whatever happened tonight, she can tell me when she’s ready.

She’s still coming home with me.

Chapter 9

June

I wake up with Striker wrapped around me.

His chest is pressed against my back, one heavy arm banded around my waist, his thigh tangled with mine beneath the sheets. He’s warm everywhere, the kind of solid heat that makes getting out of bed feel like a deeply unreasonable suggestion.

For a few seconds, I stay exactly where I am.

Mostly because moving would require effort.