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My heart was stuck on the fact that he’d called my nose cute, but I hated that he thought of me as a little girl. Planting my fists on my hips, I announced, “As far as the government is concerned, I became an adult when I turned eighteen last month.”

“Thank fuck, at least one damn thing has gone my way today.” Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he quirked a brow. “Now do me a favor and make it two. Put on the shorts so we can get outta here.”

Something inside me wanted to give him what he wanted, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. “I think it’s only fair that I know your name before you start bossing me around.”

He tapped a patch on his vest. “Bear.”

“Your legal name,” I insisted with a shake of my head.

He heaved a deep sigh. “Haven’t used it in years.”

I shrugged and looked up at the nearest security camera aimed at the student parking lot. “If you want me to go without putting on a show for whoever’s on the other end of that lens, you’ll give me what I’m asking for.”

He glared up at the camera. “Why do I have a feeling that you’re going to be more of a pain in my ass than I already thought you were going to be?”

I flashed him a big grin. “Probably because I will be.”

“That’s what I thought,” he grumbled. “Garrison Shaw.”

My smile widened. “I like it. The name suits you, Garrison.”

Heat flared in his blue orbs, and I expected him to insist that I use his road name instead. He surprised me when he said, “Thanks, now put on your shorts like a good little girl.”

My inexperience with men didn’t stop me from fantasizing about how it would sound for him to call me his good little girl under different circumstances—like while his big, brawny body covered mine in bed. I felt my cheeks start to heat and quickly turned toward my car to pop the trunk open so he wouldn’t wonder why I was embarrassed. However, that plan backfired when I stepped into my soccer shorts and slid them on under my skirt because it felt too much like getting dressed after crawling out of his bed. My blush deepened as more dirty thoughts filled my head.

I dug through my backpack to give myself another minute to calm the heck down before I reached for my jacket. Before I could put it on, Garrison yanked it from my fingers and glared down at the spot where my name was stitched on. “I get that you think my school uniform is too short, but what could possibly be wrong with my letterman jacket?”

His gaze shifted between the soccer ball patch with my number in the middle and the mishmash of gear in my trunk. “Not a damn thing, except you should put it on so you don’t get cold during the ride.”

“That’s what I was about to do when you grabbed it out of my hand,” I grumbled. My irritation disappeared when he twirled his finger in a circle for me to turn around and held out my letterman so I could slip it on with his help instead of just giving it back to me. The air around us practically crackled with chemistry, and I was dying to feel his hands on my arms—and a whole lot more of my body—without so many layers of clothing between us.

“Need to bring anything with you?” He jerked his chin toward his motorcycle. “We can put your shit in my saddlebag.”

I jiggled my keys. “I can drive myself if you’ll just tell me where we’re going.”

“Not gonna happen,” he growled as he snatched the keys from my hand.

As much as I’d love to ride behind him on his bike, it wasn’t the smart choice. “If I don’t take my car, someone is going to notice it’s still here and call my dad. Then our little talk will be the opposite of private because he’ll have every cop in this town looking for me. And it won’t take them long to find me since he has access to the location on my phone.”

He yanked his cell out of his pants pocket and stabbed a finger against the screen. “I’ll have someone here in ten minutes to drop your car off at your house.”

“That doesn’t solve the tracking issue.”

I pulled my phone out to power it off, but he took that away from me too and muttered, “I’ve got a guy who can change the location.”

“I think you’re seriously underestimating how close of an eye my dad keeps on me,” I warned as I slammed my trunk closed after handing him my backpack. I wasn’t sure how long this talk was going to take, but I didn’t want to leave my schoolwork behind when I had stuff due tomorrow.

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