Page 13 of Midnight Rebel

“In the shower.” I shrug, leaning against the dresser with mock nonchalance. “You know, that thing people do after spending an evening dancing with brooding strangers?”

My quip lands, and I catch the flicker of annoyance in his expression that brings me a small, wicked surge of satisfaction. It’s too easy, pushing his buttons like this. Too thrilling.

I cross my arms over my chest, causing the robe to slip slightly at my shoulder. Colt’s eyes track the movement, darkeningmomentarily before jerking back up to meet mine. His nostrils flare.

“I thought—” He starts, then stops, his clenched jaw revealing the battle raging inside him. He rakes a hand through his hair, an uncharacteristic vulnerability in the gesture. “Never mind what I thought.”

But I see it anyway. He thought I had someone else here. If it wasn’t so ridiculous, it might be flattering.

“What’s the matter?” I can’t resist teasing. “Worried I had company?”

His scowl deepens, the lines around his mouth becoming sharper. “This isn’t a joke, Autumn. Do you have any idea—” He cuts off, frustration vibrating through every tense muscle in his body.

“Any idea what?” I prompt, my fingers drumming impatiently on my arm. “That you’d barge into my room in the middle of the night? That you’d act like?—”

He steps closer, his imposing body crowding into mine, swallowing the space, the air. He smells like leather and smoke. It’s intoxicating.He’sintoxicating.

“We need to talk. And I can’t—” He breaks off, his voice low, dangerous. His eyes are hot as they linger on the open edge of my robe. “I can’t talk with youlike this.”

I arch a brow nonchalantly, even as my pulse picks up. “What’s wrong, tough guy? Afraid you can’t control yourself?”

His hands twitch, and his voice drops to an almost predatory growl. “Autumn... don’t push me.”

A thrill runs down my spine, but I stay rooted in place. “Or what?”

For a second, the tension between us reaches a fever pitch. His gaze burns into mine, and I think he’s going to close the distance. But instead, he takes a controlled step back, putting space between us with a tight expression.

“Five minutes,” he grits out. “Get dressed. Then we talk.”

With a resigned sigh, I retreat to the bathroom and throw on a sweater and jeans as quickly as I can.

When I return, Colt is standing next to the window, arms crossed, as he stares out at the lights of Midnight Falls.

“All right,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed while trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m dressed. What’s all this about?”

“You need to drop this investigation.”

I blink, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“It’s dangerous,” he says, turning to face me fully, his gaze unwavering. “You’re digging into things that could put you in danger.”

I laugh, but it comes out more harshly than I intended, fueled by anger and disbelief. “You barge in here at two in the morning to tell me to back off? What, is the newspaper too much for the big bad biker?”

“I’m serious.” He takes an intense step forward, eyes dark and haunted. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Well, maybe you can enlighten me.” My annoyance flares. Of course, he’s hiding something.

Colt’s jaw clenches, a heavy silence falling as he runs a hand over his face. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Noticing that he didn’t answer my question, I scowl, stubbornness rising to the surface. “I don’t need your protection. I need answers—and if you or your mother won’t give them to me, I’ll find them myself.”

My voice is firm, unwavering, though my heart thuds against my ribcage. The air between us feels charged with something dangerous.Tempting.

My words hang between us, a challenge I’m not sure I want answered. Part of me hopes he’ll rise to it, while another part dreads what he might say. The uncertainty gnaws at me, making my palms sweat.

His gaze softens for a moment, and he reaches out—fingers slow, gentle—tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

The simple touch is enough to send heat radiating from where his skin brushes mine, spreading like wildfire. For a split second, I forget what we’re even arguing about.