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When I’m done, he slides up my visor, and then his, and says, “Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle before?”
I shake my head. Trip’s sigh of frustration is muffled by the padding against my ears.
“Hold onto my waist. Lean when I lean and no sudden movement, got it?”
I nod. Trip doesn’t waste any more words. He slides his visor down and climbs on. I slide my purse over my shoulders so the strap sits across my chest, and then awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. There’s hardly any room back here and it’s not all that comfortable. In order to keep from falling off, I have to scoot closer to Trip. I lean against his back and wrap my arms around his waist.
Trip’s motorcycle roars to life and vibrates under me.Oh.Thisis why women like riding on, and with, someone who owns a motorcycle. Unable to squeeze my legs shut, I’m forced to feel the vibration of Trip’s bike as he pulls out of the parking lot and takes off down the road. I brace myself for the first speed bump.
The moment we go over it, my breath hitches and screams from the past whisper in the back of my mind. My stomach twists and the frozen yogurt starts to feel heavy as we hit the second speed bump. By the time we get over the fourth, I’m sweating profusely and trembling like a leaf. The fifth and final speed bump drags a soft whimper that gets trapped behind my visor.
As Trip turns on to the main road, my past chases after me, wailing hauntingly in my head.
Nine
The trek from my apartment to Grant’s is done in just over fifteen minutes. I’ll have to keep that in mind when they summon me next. Thankfully, when Trip pulls into the complex, he parks in the visitor center, avoiding any more speed bumps. I pull the helmet off and hand it to Trip, who ignores it and me, and shoves his helmet under his arm.
Rolling my eyes, I follow after him. We walk in silence to Grant’s building. When we get there, he swipes a card key and the glass door into the building opens.
“If I’m going to be coming over, I should get one of those,” I tell him.
Trip doesn’t respond as we walk over to the elevator. He pushes a button, and we wait in silence for it to arrive. My heart is racing. I don’t know Trip well enough to be certain, but I have a feeling he’s pissed. More so than usual, at least. Every time I’ve seen him, I’ve been under the impression he doesn’t want to be there, dealing with me. If he hadn’t shoved his fingers or his dick into me the last time I was here, I could’ve bet he wasn’t into this whole situation at all.
Could he be their weak link? Is it possible to get under his rough exterior and maybe have him work with me to end this? I glance at his face and let the idea go. At least for tonight. He’s too upset to be cajoled.
But I’ll keep it in mind for the future.
The elevator arrives and we climb in. In silence, it takes us up to the fourth floor. When the doors open, Trip leads the way to apartment eight. Opening the door, he walks in first, and I follow reluctantly. Inside, Jason is lying on the couch playing video games. Grant’s back is turned to us as he stares down at something on the kitchen island.
When the door shuts, Jason looks over and flashes us both a smile.
“There you are. I thought we missed you for the evening.”
I scowl at him. “I wasn’t given a choice in the matter. I haven’t been given a choice inanythingthat involves the three of you yet. It sucks.”
“You always have a choice to play or not, dollface,” Grant says without looking at us. “You can most certainly walk out that door. No one will stop you.”
I stop walking, blinking in surprise. Jason chuckles as he turns his attention back to his video game.
“You won’t stop me?”
“No.”
Grant’s one word hangs in the air between us. This feels like a trap. Hadn’t Trip just forced me to come along? Why would they bring me all the way here only to let me walk away? Do I make a run for it? I look back at the door.
“Just remember why you’re here in the first place,” Trip says, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook by a narrow console table. His helmet is placed, almost lovingly, onto the floor beneath it. He looks over at me with disinterest. “You might not want to play, but it may just be in your best interest to do so anyway.”
Anger surges through me. My fists ball at my sides, and for a moment I think about running over there and punching him in his damn face. But, of course, I’m sure that will only fuel some sort of retaliation I’m not equipped to handle. The fight slips out of me slowly. I sigh and kick my shoes off and place them next to Trip’s and walk over to everyone.
Before I can decide if I want to sit or stand, Trip shakes his head and says, “Go take a shower. I don’t want you stinking up the furniture.”
My face heats with embarrassment.
“I don’t have a change of clothes here. I’ll stink either way.”
“You can borrow something of ours.” Grant says, straightening to look over his shoulder at me.
I scowl. “I don’t want to wear anything of yours.”
