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It turns out the heat doesn’t take kindly to fleeing from them. Or crashing into the side of a Walmart.
Luckily, this time, there are no cops, just a logging truck and the open road ahead of me. As I pull my gearshift back and accelerate out of the curve—skidding the car back into the right position—I take off so fast I think Hoodoo has stopped breathing for a moment.
It pushes a wide grin on my lips.
I love it when men underestimate me.
When the road stretches straight, I slow down and let out a small laugh, side-eyeing Hoodoo. “Wasthatpredictable?”
He shakes his head, his grip on the car door turning his knuckles painfully white in anxiety. “No… that wasnotpredictable, Maxxy. Not at fucking all.”
I chuckle, slowing to the speed limit, and take a centering breath. “You need me to pull over so you can change your panties?”
He smirks. “One… I don’t wear underwear, and if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be panties. And two… where thefuckdid you learn to drive like that?”
My eyes widen at the thought that he’s freeballing next to me, but I shrug in response. “Grew up with some rev-head neighbors. They taught me everything I know.”
“You telling me Hurricane taught you to drive like that?”
“Actually, that was more Bayou, back when he was into cars before bikes.”
“Remind menottothank him when we get back.”
I giggle as I sink into my seat for the ride home. “How’s your back?”
He exhales. “Stiff but okay.”
I risk a glance at him. “Hoodoo?”
He turns, smiling at me. “Yeah?”
“I can’t believe you’re scared of a logging truck.”
He rolls his eyes. “Just fucking drive, will you, woman!”
I burst out laughing, reaching over and flicking on the radio. The gentle love song “I Guess I’m In Love” by Clinton Kane filters through the car, and I sit back, letting out a sigh. My mind instantly shifts to ‘N’ as Clinton sings about getting butterflies when you think about thatcertain person.
‘N’ is that person for me.
But then the song talks about getting nervous when you look into their eyes, and my memory shifts back to when Hoodoo had me pinned against the bar, his eyes locked on mine, swiping hair back from my face.
There wasdefinitelya moment between us.
And I had butterflies for Hoodoo too.
Holy shit.
This is not good.
CHAPTER FIVE
Hoodoo
The rest of the car ride was quiet unless you count Maxxy’s terrible taste in music.
But now we’re back at the clubhouse, and I open my door, slowly hopping out of the car. My back twinges as I go, so I stretch and take a walk. I glance over at Maxxy watching me as I move toward her, and she furrows her brow. “Why didn’t you tell me your back was hurting?”
I smirk. “Didn’t want to interrupt you and the ode to Coachella you were having.”
