Page 7 of The Good Girl

I grin as I step closer to get a better look and see that the gas tank has been painted. Whoever did it did an incredible job. It’s covered in flames and black charred roses that look real enough to touch.

“She sure is pretty.”

“Isn’t she? If you want, I can take you for a ride on her.”

Oh boy. Warning, warning. Abort mission. Abort mission!

I’ve researched enough MCs to know that getting on the back of a bike is usually sacred and reserved for old ladies. Knowing my luck, I’d get on the back of his bike and wake up in Vegas with his ring on my finger, his property patch on my back, and a tattoo on my butt.

Okay, so I might have a teeny, tiny, slightly overactive imagination.

“Umm… that’s sweet and all, but—Oh look, is that a squirrel?”

He frowns and turns, and I run out of the warehouse like it’s on fire. He calls after me, but I don’t stop. I just keep going,running up the stupid slope until I’m out of breath and sweaty all over again.

I slow down and start walking so I don’t look like an idiot. I make my way to the saloon, making a mental note not to tell Amity what just happened—even if that means I can’t brag about the fact that I just ran. On purpose. And up that stupid slope. She’d be so damn proud. I try to catch my breath. My heart’s racing so fast it feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. I just hope they have a defibrillator on hand just in case. I can't believe Amity does this for fun. She's a freaking psycho.

I push open the heavy saloon doors and step inside.

“Pippin!” I hear Amity’s voice before she slams into me, wrapping her arms around me. “I thought you might have gotten caught up writing again and forgot,” she says as she pulls back and looks at me.

I look down at my watch and see it’s only 7:05. I frown and look back up at her.

“I’m five minutes late.”

“So I might have missed you,” she tells me, and I roll my eyes as we head towards the bar.

“You saw me this morning when we went to the shelter to pick up the kitten.”

“Speaking of, are you sure you’re okay with us keeping him after we get him back?” She’s using the kitten to prank one of the brothers, but the little guy will be coming home with us.

“Of course. He’s just a kitten. How much trouble can he really cause?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Famous last words,” she says as an arm’s thrown around my shoulders.

“Tinkerbell. You look like my future ex-wife.” Toot looks down at me, flashing a charming smile.

“Jaded and sexually frustrated?” I deadpan, making Mac—his actual brother, who’s standing behind him—snort.

“Hey now, you never have to doubt my skills. I can make you scream like you’ve never screamed before.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” I pat his chest and make a face. “But I’m all out of trophies, big guy. Think you can make do with a participation sticker?”

Toot lets me go and growls. “I don’t understand you, woman. How can you be immune to all this?” He waves his hands over his body. “I know. Maybe it’s because I haven’t shown you any of my moves yet.”

“I’m scared to ask.”

“You’re not the only one,” Amity mutters beside me.

Toot takes a few steps back before he starts doing a weird dance with a lot of hip thrusting. Or maybe it’s some kind of mating ritual. Either way, it looks… interesting.

“Do you need to pee, Toot?”

He throws his hands in the air. “I give up! I’m going to go fuck a bunny to remind myself how virile I am.”

“Okay, have fun. Make good choices and remember to wrap it before you tap it.” I turn and find both Mac and Amity laughing. “Is anyone here normal?”

“God, I hope not.” Mac smirks before heading off into the crowd.

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