Page 72 of The Rogue and His Flower

Moments later the group lines up at the starting line, their engines roaring in unison. The sound vibrates through the air, lifting the hairs on my arms, and my heart pounds in my chest as I hold my breath, waiting for the signal to start.

With a final glance in my direction, Dalton nods before shutting his visor. Seconds later a loud horn blares, and suddenly they’re off, speeding down the tracks in a blaze of colour and noise, the scent of petrol and burning rubber in the air.

The wind whips at my hair as I track their progress, watching in awe as they lean into each turn with precision and grace. Risk takes the lead, his fearless manoeuvres leaving me in awe as he navigates the curves with skill.

Dalton isn’t far behind, his focus apparently unwavering as he chases Risk and Milo who has just edged in front of him on the last turn. Hunching over the bike, his stomach almost pressed against his thighs, Dalton gains ground. The sound of their engines is deafening as they race past me, each rider seemingly pushing themselves to the limit in a display of raw talent and exhilaration.

As they complete another lap, Dalton throws a brief look my way and I grin at him, waving as the race continues on. My veinsfizz with excitement and adrenaline as they jockey for position, each of them vying for the top spot, and as they approach the final stretch, Dalton pushes ahead with a burst of speed that propels him past Risk and across the finish line first.

I let out a triumphant scream as Dalton skids to a stop, his bike throwing up a plume of dust as he removes his helmet to reveal a wide grin, his hair sticking up in disarray. Dismounting his bike, Dalton kicks out the footrest as I rush towards him, unable to contain my excitement.

“Oh my God, you were incredible!” I exclaim, forgetting myself as I throw my arms around him in a tight hug, caught up in the thrill of the moment.

“Not bad for a man who spends his days behind a desk, eh?” he jokes, planting a kiss on my forehead that has my insides swarming with butterflies, and my cheeks heating.

It’s a friendly kiss, with nothing more to it other than affection for a friend, but it sends a jolt of electricity through me nonetheless. Moments later, the others approach, offering congratulations and playful jabs at Dalton for beating them this time. Milo claps him on the back, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well done, mate! You had us sweating there for a moment."

Risk joins in, nodding in respect. "Impressive riding, Dalton. You've got some serious skills." He offers me a smile, pulling off his glove before shaking my hand. “I’m Risk.”

“Nice to meet you, that was really incredible!” I reply, and he laughs, his deep brown eyes twinkling as his light brown hair is tousled by the wind.

“Not nearly as incredible as your other half,” he retorts good-naturedly as he slaps Dalton on the back, the camaraderie between them evident even to an outsider like me.

As the banter continues, I take a moment to observe Dalton in his element, surrounded by friends, laughing and joking with them. It’s a side of him I haven’t seen before, and it addsanother layer to the man I thought I already knew. Eventually the excitement from the race begins to ebb away, and the others steer their bikes back to the stand, but Dalton hangs back, pulling me into his side as he chuckles.

“What?” I ask, looking up at him.

“If I knew all it would take for you to throw yourself at me was a day at the track, I would’ve brought you here sooner,” he says jokingly, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that lingers, making me feel seen in a way I’m not quite used to.

“Funny,” I reply, giving him a playful shove, both of us ignoring the fact that I threw myself at him last night.

“Would you like me to take you for a ride?” he asks after a beat.

“Back to that again, I see,” I reply, hitching a brow.

“I meant on my motorbike,” he flirts back, a lightness and ease to his tone that simply wasn’t there before.

I laugh, shaking my head, before my smile drops and I stare at his beautiful motorbike. “I’m not sure. You go awfully fast.”

“I promise to take it easy.”

“You swear?”

“Of course, but you’re going to need some protective leathers, and a helmet. You’re about the same size as Swift, I’m sure she’d be happy to lend you something,” he says, taking my hand as he tugs me towards her.

“You think she’ll be okay loaning me something? I got the distinct impression she didn’t like my appearance here today,” I say, eyeing Dalton for any signs that he’s had a past relationship with her given the look she’d thrown at him earlier.

“Swift takes a while to warm up,” he explains.

My eyebrows lift. “Oh yeah?”

Dalton’s steps falter as he turns to me. “Don’t give me that look, Daisy. She’s a friend, nothing more.”

“Has she ever been more than a friend?” I ask, not sure why I want to know, but asking the question anyway.

“Nope. She’s not interested in me, and I’m not at all interested in her. In fact I’m pretty sure she’s got a huge crush on the guys.”

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