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“I like that.” He whispered.
“What?”
“You thinking of Pop.”
He smiled. There was something about the way his lips turned that had her leaning into him, taking him for a kiss. Her lips pressed against his, and his mouth opened slightly. She angled her head and grasped his neck. They may have been in the corner, but it was among a room full of people. Somehow, she didn’t care, and apparently, neither did he. He pulled her against his chest, his tongue gliding across her lips, and she moaned.
“Let’s go, folks.”
She couldn’t be sure who said it, but she backed away from Caden. She caught his heated stare and the smirk. It was a promise. They weren’t done just yet. He pushed forward, and she was prepared to follow.
She headed toward the door, but Caden grabbed her wrist, halting her. She glanced back as he surveyed her outfit. What? She was wearing a bra.
“Hang on, you need a jacket. Gets cold on the bike from the wind.” He ambled to the small closet off the living room.
“I have one at my place. I can run and get it.”
He emerged from the closet with a smile. “Your place?”
She fumbled over her words and licked her lips. “Well, not mine, but…”
He stalked to her, handed her a small black leather jacket, and hooked his arm around her waist. “It’s your place, Riss.” He leaned down and kissed her. His hand cupped the back of her head, and he slid his tongue past her lips. Kissing him was like a drug; it left her always wanting more. She curled her fingers through the leather jacket and pressed her body flat against his.
“You guys coming, or should I tell the kid you were too busy making out to show up?” The cackling laugh had Caden pull away and glare over her shoulder. She gave a small smile but kept quiet as Caden continued to deepen his scowl aimed at Grady.
“I should fire you.”
Grady snorted. “Probably, but you won’t, so come on.”
Caden’s hardened face cracked, and she quickly leaned up, kissing him again and taking him by surprise.
“Come on, we can make out later.”
Caden leaned closer. “You can bet on that.”
They left the house and took the ride to the field. The second they left the driveway, she was thankful for the jacket. Even through her shirt and the leather, the cold air bit through her skin. She closed the wind visor and snuggled deeper into Caden’s back, seeking more warmth.
When they pulled into the parking lot, she scanned the area. It was huge and completely packed. The only available spots were on the lawn near the school. Caden pulled up to a sign between the orange barriers that clearly read NO PARKING. He parked and turned off his engine. She noticed Rourke and Trax parked their bikes directly behind Caden’s.
Once she dismounted and took off her helmet, he grabbed it from her and hooked it over his handlebar to lay against his.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get towed?”
He turned to her with an amused grin. “Babe, no one will come near my bike, let alone touch it.” He snickered and shook his head.
“They know better than to fuck with our bikes.” The low graveled voice came from behind her.
She turned to find Rourke holding hands with Macy. He cocked a brow and stared down at her. Marissa shifted on her feet.
“I certainly wouldn’t.”
She heard the feminine giggle but kept her eyes on Rourke. It was a small crack in his harsh exterior. The corner of his lip curled, and his eyes softened slightly.
“C’mon, babe.” Caden’s voice tore her gaze away from Rourke, and she double stepped to catch up to him.
She followed next to him as they walked up the path, to the field. There were hundreds of people walking in the same direction. She couldn’t remember much from high school, but she was pretty sure their football games didn’t get this much attention. The group was ahead of them, and she had to double time to keep up with Caden’s pace. She had a sudden urge to grab his hand. She glanced over, staring at his hand. Hand holding was tricky. It seemed like a very girly thing, like something only a woman would initiate. It took a certain type of man to do it, and Caden didn’t seem like the type. His hands were huge, and small scars lined his fingers. Some old and some fresh. He had a few scabs on his knuckles. His hand turned over, palm up, and jutted toward her. She darted her eyes up to meet his. He gave her a soft smile, and her heart sped up. Was this an offer? She reached out, pressing her palm to his, and he clasped his fingers over her hand.
He drew his attention back to the path, and she curled into his side, holding his hand. The crowd burrowed together to get in past the gates, but he never let go. Even when he pulled out his wallet to pay for their tickets, he did it one-handed.
