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I carefully lift Maggie onto the back of the motorcycle and then climb on behind her. The man revs the engine, and with a roar, we take off down the deserted road.
The wind whips through my hair, and I cling tightly to Maggie, feeling the heat of the man's body through his leather jacket.
As we speed down the road, I can't help but steal glances at him. He's ruggedly handsome with the wind tousling his dark hair.
I shake my head, trying to push away the strange attraction I feel toward him. After all, I don't even know his name.
But as we pull into the small town and he helps me off the bike, I know that I want to know more about him.
"Thank you so much," I say, turning to face him. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
He smiles at me again, and I feel my knees go weak. "Don't mention it. Just happy to help."
"I still don't even know your name," I say, feeling emboldened.
He chuckles, a low and sexy sound that sends shivers down my spine. "It's Billy."
"Billy," I repeat, savoring the taste of his name on my tongue.
We stand there for a moment just looking at each other before he clears his throat. "Why don't you come on into my shop, and I'll fix you right up, doll?"
My heart flutters at the endearment.
"Sure—" I start and then pause. "Wait?Yourshop?"
He grins at me, a rakishly handsome smile. "Yeah, I'm the owner of this place."
My eyes flick up to the sign.
Mayor's Mechanics.
"So, you're Billy Mayor?"
He smiles at me again, showing a full set of white, even teeth. "The one and only, Jessie Cunningham."
My eyes widen when he says my last name, and I wrap an arm around Maggie and take a step back.
How does he know who I am?
CHAPTERTWO
Billy
"Wait.How do you know my full name? I didn't tell you my last name."
I internally curse myself for my slip-up.
Of course I know who Posh (Jessie Cunningham) is. Her father is one of the richest fuckers in the city, and I'll never forget the first time I saw the little brunette heiress.
She had to have been just sixteen. She was driving a pretty pink Corvette her father no doubt bought her. Her shoulder-length bob flowed in the wind, and her oversized sunglasses made her bee-stung lips stand out even more.
I was instantlyobsessed.
I've been following her ever since, silently keeping an eye on her. I know it makes me sound like a creeper, but if I'm being honest, I was just waiting for her to turn eighteen.
Apparently, I'm a pussyfoot too because she's been eighteen for five years now. Jessie is twenty-three, and I already know that little girl she has with her is her best friend's—not hers.
Thank fuck.
