Page 40 of Stealing the Biker

I gulp down the piss warm wine and scan the room for Jonesy. He may not be boyfriend material, but he could be useful.

I find him leaning in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. One thing about him is that he makes not giving a shit look effortless as he gazes around the room wearing an easy smile until his gaze locks with mine. He’s heartbreak waiting to happen to some poor unsuspecting girl. At least I know the truth about him and there are no feelings involved. His smile spreads into a full-blown smirk as he raises his cup in a silent toast before taking a long drink.

“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him,” Bethany whispers, nudging me again with her elbow.

“He’s not really my type.”

“Are you crazy? He’s everyone’s type.” She makes a valid point.

If I didn’t know what a jerk he is, I’d have been his date to the dance.

“Okay. I’m going over. Wish me luck.” I finish off my drink and place it on the table as I shove up off the loveseat, pretending I’m going to the kitchen for another drink. I saunter toward him, pretending I don’t notice the way he’s practically undressing me with his eyes.

If I were any other girl, I’d be weak in the knees for that look he’s giving me.

“Looking good tonight, Kie.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze his arm as I continue into the kitchen, hoping he takes the bait and follows me. I make it to the breakfast bar where all the bottles of liquor and beer are lined up. I study the bottles and count to five before glancing over my shoulder. I don’t even make it to three before he slides in next to me.

“What’s your poison?”

I lick my lips. “I’ll have whatever it is you’re drinking.” I grab his cup and take a sip and am shocked there’s only water in it. I arch a brow at him.

“Don’t go telling anyone. I’ve got a rep to maintain and a scholarship to keep.”

“I’m already keeping enough of your secrets. Don’t you think?”

“Are you ever going to let me explain?”

“I’ll think about it.” I shoot him a flirty smile.

“Are you having fun?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“If you’re going to make it fun.”

“Is that so?”

I pick up a bottle of liquor and give it a sniff. “Mhmm.” My lips screw up in disgust at the pungent smell.

“Don’t drink that,” he warns. “Try this instead.” He twists the cap off a hard lemonade. “Party rule number one. Never drink from an opened container that you didn’t open yourself.”

“Thank you.” I take a sip. “You know. You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Hope that’s a good thing.”

“So far, though, for someone who is supposed to be a bad boy…” I trail off.

“Maybe I’m misunderstood.” That smug smile returns, the one that would have other girls falling for his charm.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“But you’re thinking about it. About me.”

“Maybe.”

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