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He ran a calloused finger over my brow.

“You’re welcome, babe,” he said. “See you at dinner.”

Then, without another word, he left me standing there watching him go.

And I was left wondering if there would ever come a time where I didn’t hate seeing him leave.

CHAPTER 16

Question: when stirring up some shit. Do you start clockwise, or counter-clockwise?

-Text from Wyett to Hunt

HUNT

“Where are the dogs going?” I asked, staring at the empty room, the dogs with their leashes attached, and the half-eaten bag of dog food at their sides.

“Laric has a place,” Wyett answered. “He volunteered to keep them when I asked him about possible kenneling options.”

“Okay.” I looked around the foyer, taking in the multiple suitcases.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

And would she care if I brought my computer to work? Because I was onto something with her aunt, and I didn’t want to take the time off because I knew that a breakthrough would be coming soon.

“Umm.” She paused. “Well…” She turned her face away from me and started to mumble.

“You what?” I asked in curiosity, loving the way she was trying not to let me hear, but explaining nonetheless.

“I signed you up for a motorcycle training course,” Wyett repeated. “You said that you needed to learn how to ride. And it doesn’t seem smart to me to just get on it without the least bit of knowledge on how to ride it. Knowledge is power. Isn’t that what you always said to me when you tried to justify why you hacked into my life?”

She did have a point.

But still.

“Okay,” I said, not knowing what else to say. “You at least did it out of town, right?”

She gave me a look. “I’m not dumb. I signed you up for a course in Gulf Shores, Alabama.”

I blinked. “Why so far away?”

“Because if I’m going to be forced to be out of town for three days straight doing nothing, then I’m going to hang out at the beach while I do nothing,” she answered.

Her answer made a lot of sense, too.

“Okay,” I hesitated. “When is the camp?”

She looked at her watch, then gestured to the dogs that were behind us. The dogs that couldn’t decide whether they wanted to hang out with me or her. Honestly, I was really kind of jealous of her attachment to them at this point. “Now. They could come with us, but Laric offered to keep them.”

I looked at the dogs, then at her.

“I don’t have a motorcycle,” I told her.

She grinned wickedly. “I know. But… I have a friend at the hospital that I work with. She’s a really great lady. Her father is a mechanic and does custom bikes. I called yesterday and told them that I wanted one. Explained a little about you. Told him your likes and dislikes, and then made arrangements for the motorcycle to be delivered to Gulf Shores for you.”

I scratched my head. “But…”

“No more excuses, Hunt.” She pointed at me. “I want to ride on the back of a bike. And I can’t do that unless you’re okay with me getting on one, wrapping my arms around another man, and being pressed close to him.”

I really, really didn’t like that option.

“Let’s go.”

• • •

I was at a motorcycle driving course.

Feeling like a complete dumbass.

“You’re in a motorcycle club, and you don’t even know how to ride a motorcycle?” the instructor asked the man at my side.

I side-eyed him.

Other than him being a dumbass and me not being one, we really did have a lot in common.

Other than he’d worn his ‘cut’ while I’d worn jeans, a long-sleeved Henley t-shirt, and a bomber jacket that was the only thing I could scrounge up at such short notice.

Though, my ‘short notice’ outfit had totally turned my girl on this morning as I’d left.

She’d seen me in my clothes and her eyes had gone electric.

Not that I don’t love your work uniform of sweatpants and a tight white tee, because holy God. But you in jeans and a Henley with a bomber jacket on? My God.

I was grinning over her words when the instructor, as well as the rest of us, heard the man’s reply to the instructor’s earlier question.

“There’s no bylaws in our club that you actually have to learn how to ride a motorcycle,” the man replied. “Not to mention, you’d have to be able to afford a bike, or know someone that has a bike, for you to practice riding. I didn’t have that until I got into the motorcycle club. But by then I realized that it was unsafe for me to just hop on and start riding without a little bit of instruction. So here I am.”

Here he was.

And he had a valid argument under his belt.

I looked at him with new eyes.

Most young guys his age would’ve popped off, gotten hot under the collar, or downright exploded.

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