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He’s just being obtuse in his attempt to force me to get to know Ezra.
I already know what to expect from this little stunt. Riley makes no effort in hiding the fact that he wants us to hit it off... However, I have reservations.
Massive ones.
Not only do they know each other, but they’re related.
Okay. The being related part isn’t a huge deal... It’s the fact that Riley would know who else I was seeing. These flings have worked just fine with the lines I’ve drawn in the sand, and that includes being in the dark about who my other suitors are. Knowing has the potential to breed jealousy and drama, not to mention allowing for secrets to be shared.
There are some secrets I don’t actually care about... But others would risk their lives, and I don’t want to be the reason they die.
How can I explain where this line is to someone who didn’t grow up with the reaper looming around every corner, waiting to swing his scythe at me?
It feels impossible to articulate today. And it’s not something I’ve had to explain to Riley or Lory. They already know what the acidic breath of death does as it tickles against your neck.
Kane does too, though maybe not in the same way. We have this silent understanding about not taking this thing between us too far. I haven’t asked him why he’s okay with it, but I suspect it has something to do with his past. I know him so well, yet somehow, I still know absolutely nothing about him.
Ezra has had this perplexed expression on his face since he and Riot walked into David’s house. I can’t decide if it’s the murder part of this afternoon or figuring out that his cousin and I are close enough to exchange bodies. But I want to know why he isn’t freaking out.
“Take a left,” I direct as we get to the north side of town. “Head to The Lofts.”
He nods. “Where is Riley taking the body?”
“I don’t know.”
“Shouldn’t you?”
I half shrug. “He’ll tell me when he gets back.”
“What if he gets caught?” Ezra asks, his tone flat, emotionless, as he peers at me from the corner of his eye.
He’s worried about Riot, and that makes me like him a little more. My biker beau tends to attract as much trouble as I do, though I don’t have tattoos crawling up my jawline or peeking from my hairline or rounding the tops of my ears.
“Then I’ll get him out,” I promise.
My confidence causes Ezra to huff.
“How?”
“With cleavage and a smile.”
He frowns at me as he turns onto the road to my apartment, but I call out directions before he can inquire further into the how part of that. I’m not telling him what I would need to do to get Riley out of jail. Not that it would be too much…
“Go to the side,” I softly instruct. “Where the parking garage is.”
“You need a code—”
“Which I have.”
He taps his thumbs against the steering wheel as he slows. “And I doubt you’re going to share with me.”
I just smile at him.
He’s right. I won’t give him the code to enter.
As he pulls up to the keypad, I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean across him. My arm brushes against his chest, heat searing my skin until I almost jerk away. I stretch my hand out, then stop.
“Close your eyes.”
