Page 23 of Where We Left Off

“What are you doing here? If you tell me that you ride I’m going to have to marry you on the spot.”

I roll my eyes, ascending the hill to get to where the truck is parked.

“Let me get you a drink. You’re not here with Tate are you? Doesn’t matter, we can hide from him.”

Some friend he is. I wonder if all of Tate’s friends are this shitty.

He sees me stop next to Mitch’s truck and he nods his head.

“So youarehere with the Colesons. Damn. Come hang out with me for a bit anyway.”

I lean my stomach against the side panel of the bed, looking out at the post-ride track, and Caulder leans next to me.

“Cute glasses,” he says, and I can feel the heat radiating from his skin closer to me than before.

I turn to look at him, eyebrow cocked, but he really is cute. His eyes are sapphire blue and his hair is Californian gold. He senses my appraisal and he tilts a little closer, a knowing twinkle in his smiling eyes.

It only takes five seconds and then he’s on the floor.

Tate hauls him by his shoulders and Caulder’s back hits the dirt with a painfully loud thud. Tate’s thighs straddle Caulder’s hips, one hand pinning down his collarbones, and he smacks his palm across the side of his temple. I watch them over my shoulder with science-experiment curiosity.

“What the hell did I say to you the other night, Caul?” This is a voice that I have never heard before. It’s so calm that it’s scary. My stomach dips knowing that this display is for me.

“Nothing happened, bro!” Caulder is confused which is understandable. There is no logical reason as to why Tate would be acting out like this over me, especially given whathe didthreeyears ago. But, for some reason, I can sense it. I can still feel it deep in my bones on the most innate primitive level that this is forme.

Tate shoves Caulder’s shoulders into the ground as a departing warning and then he stands, brushing the dirt off his knees with big tense hands.

I twist back towards the truck and I look straight ahead so that my back is to him. The truck bed dips with a groan as Tate’s hands grip the panel on either side of my waist.

“River,” he says, in a low and deadly voice. “Look me in the eyes, right now.”

I ignore him because I know that that’s what will annoy him the most.

I feel the hot firm grip of his palm on my shoulder and then he turns my body with ease to face him.

His brain explodes.

The thing about never showing your skin? When you do show it, it’s areallybig deal. Tate’s chest swells on impact and he bends slightly at the middle, as if I just punched him in the gut. His hands have curled into fists on either side of me, forearms stiffening as he swallows hard. His eyes flash to mine and they are frenzied, desperate, wild.

Then Caulder shuffles to his feet behind him and the light goes out like a switch.

Tate spins around a launches a fist into the side of Caulder’s jaw, his head snapping to the left and sending him stumbling into the side of someone else’s car. Tate stalks him like an animal, grabbing his shoulder and swinging his arm back as if he’s going to punch him again, but suddenly the little crowd around us gets involved, and guys are pulling them apart, restraining their arms and wrists.

Mitch appears and he grapples with Tate until he’s on the passenger side of the truck. He shoves him through the door,slams it shut, and then hauls Tate’s bike into the back. Mitch comes to stand in front of me, eyes livid and steam practically oozing from his tan skin.

“What the hell are you doing to him, River? He could get disqualified for that,” he bites out, arms shaking at his sides.

I stand my ground.Nothing compared to what he did to me, Mitch.

“Just get in the truck, and don’t say a word.” He storms to the driver’s door and heaves himself inside.

It’s officially the tensest ride of my life. When we arrive back at Mitch’s, Tate whips out of his dad’s truck and quickly gets into his own, kicking the vehicle into reverse and racing off the driveway with dangerous speed.

Mitch turns to me, his face candy-apple red with a syrupy sheen.

“For that, you’re grounded. Forever,” he commands, and then he thunders into the house, shoulders rolling like a Viking.

I feel smug with satisfaction as I enter the house after him, all until I reach the bottom of the stairs to my room in the attic.

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