Page 17 of Total Shutdown

“You made out like I was nothing to you.”

He looks at me then, and I do him.

“It wasn’t so much what you said, buthowyou said it. That night really must’ve been forgettable.” My warm breath forms clouds in the freezing space between us.

Sawyer’s full lips twist. “Let’s not forget you were the one who graded me as average. But for what it’s worth, ‘forgettable’ is the opposite of how I’d describe what we shared.”

I pocket my phone, another bus due at any second. “Anyway, whatever. It was a mistake we won’t be repeating.”

Despite our noisy surroundings, I don’t miss the rumble from his chest.

“Is this where you back off from the group and then leave town?”

I reach into my bag for my bus pass. “I have a couple of things keeping me here, but, yeah, maybe. Work kind of sucks right now, and my place is on a rolling lease.”

He doesn’t respond to that, and silence stretches between us.

“I guess if I offered you a ride home, you’d tell me to shove it up my ass, right?”

A playful smile tugs at his lips, and I tear my eyes away from it.

“I really think it’s best if we reduce our contact to the absolute minimum. I’ll see Kendra and Jenna outside of game days. That way, you won’t be called out when the press inevitably catches on that I do, in fact, exist.”

He runs a hand through his hair, and I step toward a second bus as it pulls up alongside the sidewalk.

“Enjoy the event on Saturday,” he calls after me.

I pause and turn over my shoulder, eyes narrowing as contrasting emotions swirl in my stomach—amusement, annoyance, and downright frustration at the way this guy creeps under my skin with such ease.

“Yeah.” I grin at him. “Fingers crossed I’ll rate it more than a six.”

CHAPTERSEVEN

COLLINS

It’s two days later when I pull my bike up outside Rise Upand push through the door in full leathers. The one good thing about this kind of weather? I’m not sweating my tits off when dressed like this.

Since I’m five minutes early for meeting Kendra, I join the line and put in my regular black coffee and sandwich order with Ed.

The last forty-eight hours has seen my mood improve, thanks to two much-needed days off and binge-watching multiple ’80s movies. With a few exceptions, I’ve concluded that I was born in the wrong decade—’80s music, bikes, movies, and the vibes in general were far superior to anything this century has to offer.

Ed hands me my coffee and nods toward the back of the café. “Kendra called ahead of time and asked if I could save three window seats, so you’re right over there.”

I frown as he sets the chopped cheese sandwich on my tray. “Three?”

He nods. “Yeah, I thought maybe you were meeting her and Jack?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

Ed’s attention snags on my bike parked outside. “Nice wheels. Is it a Glide Ultra Limited?”

“You know your bikes?”

I’d pin Ed as in his forties, so it’s not surprising that he’d recognize my black 1981 model.

“Yeah, I refurbed her a year back. She was in a bad state when I picked her up. The owners were ready to scrap her for parts, but all she needed was some TLC.”

“Wait. You’re the pink-haired girl from the photos.”

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