Page 10 of My Dream

I smirked, turned the key, and listened to the rumble of the engine. “What did you think we did around here, Fallon?”

She shrugged and leaned back in her seat. “Biker things.”

I groaned and shook my head. “Jesus. You and the ol’ ladies. You all think we just sit around playing with our bikes all day.”

“Fiddling with your dipsticks and…” She paused and scrunched her nose as if trying to think of something clever. “I can’t come up with another mechanical thing that sounds dirty.”

I barked a laugh and shifted into gear.

She leaned toward the window, and a grin tugged at her lips. “I mean, dipsticks are pretty good, though, right? You get the joke?”

“I got it, babe. You’re a damn comedian.”

“Maybe I could be a comedian if The Cakery doesn’t take off.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “Babe, you better be praying The Cakery does well, or you’re going to starve if you gotta tell jokes.”

She rolled her eyes at me, but she was still laughing.

This was going to be an interesting trip.

Chapter Five

Fallon

“I need to try this on.”

Compass looked at the pink pajama pants with yellow bananas on them. His expression was caught between disbelief and disgust. “I can tell you those are shit. You don’t need to try them on.”

I rolled my eyes and held the pants up higher. “I think I’ll rely on a mirror, not you.” I flicked through another rack and pulled out two more pairs of pajama bottoms—one with polka dots and another covered in little coffee mugs.

“I thought you said you wanted a sweater,” he rumbled and leaned on the cart like he was already exhausted.

“The store is telling me I need to be comfy,” I muttered and tossed the pants over my arm. So far, I’d grabbed two notebooks, a pack of pens, permanent markers, and two poster boards. Maybe this wasn’t some school project, but a poster board seemed like a good thing to have. Organization, or at least the illusion of it, might save me from losing my mind.

“Yeah, well, I got a list from Yarder that’s a mile long, and we need to get started on it.”

I turned to face him and tilted my head. “Do you have somewhere else you need to be right now?”

Compass narrowed his eyes, and his tone was dry. “I can think of ten other places I’d rather be. I get you’ve been cooped up in the clubhouse, and playing fashion show sounds fun, but we still need to be careful, Fallon. The longer we’re out here, the easier it is for someone to hurt us.”

“In a Walmart, Compass?” I crossed my arms. “I don’t think anything is going to happen here other than spotting a few people who could end up on thatPeople of Walmartpage.”

“Half the things that come out of your mouth I don’t even understand,” he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That’s because I’m not from the Stone Age like you are.”

He gave me a flat look. “I’m thirty-five years old, Fallon. That’s not the Stone Age.”

I smirked and dragged my gaze over him slowly. “Six years older than me. So... it’s more like the Bronze Age.”

He muttered something under his breath and shook his head. “Let’s just finish up here with the pajamas, then we’ll grab the groceries and get out of here.”

“AfterI check out those shorts and then try these on,” I said and moved toward the sleep shorts display. “Or, you could go grab the groceries, and I’ll meet you at the registers.”

“Do you really listen to anything I say?”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Yes, I’m listening.”

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