Page 133 of Falling in Reverse

“Don’t sweat it, McQueen.” His lips curve higher. “I’ll protect you from the big bad wolf.”

“I’d ask your ass what you’re doing here, but I feel as though you’re gonna lie to me so I won’t.” Another body is added to the mix, and I bite the bullet, knowing that I can’t escape now as I steer my attention to Torin.

I shouldn’t have.

Not when he’s shirtless, the muscles of his biceps and triceps glistening in a sheet of sheer sweat. His tawny hair illuminates the red tints from the bright sun overhead as his gold eyes glisten in pure entertainment that he caught me here when over a minute ago I could’ve been gone without a trace.

“I was just leaving,” I provide up, lifting my bags to show him that I was here for pleasure and not some secret society bullshit.

“She’s scared of you,” Reeve suggests casually as if I’m not standing here.

“Me?” Torin repeats, not sounding too convinced. “I highly doubt that.”

Reeve lifts a finger at me. “Well, she won’t stay.”

“Do you think that it may be because of you?” He tugs his golden irises to Reeve’s tornado of greens and blues.

Reeve slowly shakes his head, myself still being the focal point of his view. “Doubtful. She just doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to love the shit out of me one day.”

“I’m right here,” I emit with a scowl.

“We’ve noticed,” he deadpans, cocky as shit, totally confident that I’m not going to catch him one day with a knee to the head or a bullet in his ass.

He’s probably right to think that.

“Stay,” Torin orders, but it’s casual and calm. “You can see Reeve freak out if he loses the car that he decided was a good idea to gamble today.”

Responding means I’m going to do this, so I don’t.

“You sure she’s from South Shore?” Reeve taunts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought this would be more her speed.”

Torin chuckles. “She races cars, dumbass. Not playin’ ball on the court.”

Reeve leans in loud enough to mutter, “I think she’s confused. Probably doesn’t think you know how to play.”

“Why me? You’re usually too fucked up to know left from right.”

“Well, she doesn’t know that, and you look like you have maids who spoon-feed you.”

“Just because I’m good-looking doesn’t mean I don’t know how to use my Charmin ultra-soft toilet paper to wipe my own ass.”

I rotate my head between the two of them, fighting down the smile that wants to take over my lips because they sound like Levi and me.

“I think she believes you don’t,” Reeve says.

“Then maybe she should learn a thing or two about me.”

“I mean…you just took a bullet over two weeks ago and are already out playin’,” I profess. “Not bad, Wildes.”

Torin ignores me when I’m expecting his normal aggravation and keeps his focus steady on his buddy. “Maybe you should use your charm and swoon her ass then. Let’s see if it works.”

“Nah, she doesn’t like that shit,” Reeve claims because he’d know. “She likes the chase.”

I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, fuck that,” Torin claims. “Maybe we should just carry her ass.”

“Touch me”—I center my furrowed brows on both of them—“and I’ll be putting something on you and it won’t be my ass.”

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