Page 18 of Riding Home

I stared in disbelief.“How could you tell her that?”

“Look, my mom’s old-fashioned.She doesn’t think I should spend the night with a woman unless we’re engaged.”

“But you’re a biker,” I shot back.“I’m sure you do worse.”

He frowned.“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I folded my arms.

“You really don’t like bikers, do you?”

“Honestly?No.I’d probably run if you stopped to help me.”

He looked hurt.“You’ve got me all wrong, Aurora.I ain’t a bad guy.My club is my family.And as for my family here, you will wear that ring tomorrow and play along.I did you a favor tonight.Now it’s your turn.”

Indignation surged.“Unbelievable.”

Without another word, I grabbed my backpack and headed to the bathroom, ensuring the door was closed behind me.I leaned against it, taking deep breaths.

This was spiraling out of control.Pretending my fake boyfriend was real was one thing, but making my mom think I broke off another engagement was out of the question.I changed into pajamas, trying to focus on anything but the biker holding an engagement ring.

As I brushed my teeth, I caught my reflection.My cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with a mix of anger and something else—fear.But not of Clark.I was afraid of how my heart raced when he was near, how his smiles disarmed me, how pretending felt dangerously comfortable.

Was I falling for him?Pretending to be his fiancée would make it harder to say goodbye.

I turned off the faucet and braced myself.This was supposed to be a simple favor.Yet here I was, tangled in unexpected emotions.

Taking a deep breath, I faced whatever awaited me.

I opened the door.Clark stood by the window, looking out into the night.The velvet box lay unopened on the table.

He turned at the sound.“Aurora...”

I held up a hand.“Let’s just get some sleep.We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

He nodded slowly.“Alright.”

I climbed into the expansive bed, staying to one side.After a moment, he settled on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance.

Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the soft rustle of sheets.Staring up at the canopy, I wondered how I ended up here, caught between deception and an undeniable pull.

As sleep claimed me, one thought lingered.I wasn’t just pretending to be in love with Clark.I was falling.

Chapter 8

Dreams wove through my mind, blurring reality and fantasy.Clark’s face shifted between the polished image of my imaginary boyfriend and the rugged truth of the biker lying next to me.We were dancing under the stars one moment, his eyes holding promises I couldn’t decipher, and racing down winding roads on his motorcycle the next.

I jolted awake, heart pounding.Disoriented, I realized I was tangled up with Clark.My head rested on his bare chest, my arm draped over his torso, and my leg—oh no—thrown over his hips.Under my thigh, his impressive arousal was evident.I froze.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silvery hue across his peaceful face.Without thinking, I lightly traced my fingers over his beard.The texture was surprisingly soft.His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with a sleepy, amused gaze.

“Enjoying yourself?”he murmured, a sly grin tugging at his mouth.

I gasped, yanking my hand back and scrambling away.“I—I was just—”

He chuckled softly.“No need to explain.If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.”

Flustered, I threw a pillow at him.“Very funny.”

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