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I turn and head out the back where my bike is parked. I don’t wait for her to follow. It’s bad enough I struggled to tear my eyes off her in the last ten minutes.
The sooner I drop her off, the better. She’ll have boarding for the night, and my one good deed for the day is done.
I hop on and make my adjustments before revving the engine.
Pinky lifts the sleek white helmet from under her arm and with deliberate motions, slides it over her head like a puzzle piece. Her fingers work under her chin and the click of the fastening strap echoes through the quiet alley.
I give her a nod. “All set?”
“How far we going?” she asks, checking out my ride.
“About five minutes.”
She sucks in a breath, avoiding my eyes as she nods. In a small, and somewhat shaky voice, she replies, “I guess.”
I’m tempted to ask if she’s ever been on one of these. Hell, I’m tempted to assure her she’s safe with me in the driver’s seat. But all that goes against everything I vowed to never do when it comes to Pepper.
I give my engine a roar and tell her to hop on.
With a backpack full of buried secrets over her shoulders, she steps on the footpeg and swings her leg over. I shift uneasily as she settles behind me, her body molding with mine like it belongs.
I shake it off and lift the helmet over my head.
“You insured?” she asks.
“Sure. For myself.”
Pepper presses her front to my back even more, wrapping her arms around my waist and my vision nearly blurs. I’ve given plenty of girls rides on this thing, their arms around me as natural as a seat belt—I barely notice it.
But this—I feel.
Maybe it’s her scent?
No. She smells like faded expensive perfume and the back of a city cab. Far from alluring.
“Thought you were in a hurry,” she calls behind me.
“Right.”
I head toward Elliot’s when I catch the sun setting over the mountains. That means it’s close to six, which means even if I were to head straight to practice now, I’ll be ten minutes late, at least. And I still need to get across town.
After last night’s screw up, and the shiner I got during a throw down, I can’t afford to be late. Coach will have my ass.
When I turn the corner, I pull to a stop. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Pepper’s voice is muffled behind me under the helmet.
“Change of plans. You’re coming with me.”
2
The last words I ever thought I’d want to hear, especially since my life has been controlled by others, starting from when I was a teenager and continuing to my current boyfriend. Who casually forgot to mention he was the president’s son.
But coming from Chase’s throaty growl, it’s almost enticing. For a brief moment, my delirious and tired brain from traveling across the country believes I’m a princess he’s rescuing from a dangerous terrorist—or dragon or mafia lord.
But then I snap out of it.
He doesn’t want me strapped up against his back. I’m a nuisance. A problem he’s stuck dealing with.
