Page 93 of Throttle

“What?” I blink.

“Don’t you what us? We’ve been waiting for this since you dropped the bomb this morning, saying how Throttle wants to date,” Angel scolds me while Jules lets out an excited squeal.

“So, you both think it’s a good idea?”

They freeze in confusion. “Are you the same Tequila we know and love because if so, I thought this is what you’ve always wanted,” Angel states the obvious.

She's right, but there are still unanswered questions. Isn’t there?

“How can I trust him?” I didn't realize the sadness in my words.

“We get it. Our men had to do a lot of groveling, but remember, this is Throttle we're talking about. When he says he's in, he's serious.” Jules leans forward. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t let him sweat it out.”

“Agreed. Take your time before providing him with an answer. Wait a few days. That will make him worry, and he deserves to feel uneasy. Even the tiniest amount.” Angel wiggles her brows.

“Okay, I give in.” I smile. They’ve been through it and if they are giving me their approval, then it must be right.

I didn't fully comprehend the consequences for myself when I made Throttle suffer.

There were benefits of day one. He may have expected me to agree, but I couldn't be certain. It was always enjoyable to have the advantage when seeing him, whether at home or in the clubhouse, even without my answer.

The sight of a vase filled with pink roses on the table caused me to blush when I came downstairs that first morning. It was a sweet gesture and when I read the note, I all but lost my courage while waiting it out.

Dear my Tequila Rose,

I will give you a thousand more roses if it shows you how much I want us. How much I care. But no purchase in the world can express my deep feelings for you.

Your beauty goes far beyond what these roses can convey. Though they always remind me of you. Your delicate nature. Your kindness. I don’t deserve you, but I’m willing to be the best version of myself to win you.

With love, your Throttle. Your best friend.

He should realize that he is already the best version of himself.

I barely spotted him on day two. It was a breeze for him to slip away without being noticed, with his attention divided between the shop and club. It's not that things are uncomfortable, but ever since he expressed his feelings and gave me roses and a note, I've had a strong wish to be close to him.

And now, we arrive on day three.

I approach Throttle who is fully enjoying his cereal. Cocoa Puffs, to be exact. Even as he slurps almond milk off his spoon, he is still sexy. With his attention also on his phone, I'm not sure he heard me come into the kitchen at all.

I retrieve a bowl from the cabinet and go toward the fridge. He glances up and scans me from head to toe, noticing my night shorts and tank top. I regret not changing first when he takes his time skimming every part of me.

As I pour my cereal, Throttle hands me a cherry pop tart, skirting past the vase of roses. “Last one. I considered eating it, but then I remembered I was still trying to impress you.”

“This is a very noble gesture, sir.”

The mention of the word sir makes him smirk and raise his brow.

Accepting the pop tart off the table, I bite the side of my cheek. The air is thick with tension as I sit down and watch him watch me. “Yes,” I tell him.

His posture improves as his back straightens and his shoulders relax. “Yes? As in…”

“As in, yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”

His eyes sparkle with excitement, as if he believed I would reject him and never turn back. Yet, his grin is so broad that it almost reaches the corners of his eyes.

I did that.

With a smile that makes my heart melt, he rises from the table and stops beside me, leaning down and laying his lips on my cheek. “Tonight. Be ready at seven. And wear a dress.”

---