Page 49 of The Forbidden Note

The wind picks up as if my lashing hips can control the weather and I’m whipping up a storm.

The shadows are thicker than cream out here. When the sun is high, the mountains chop up the sky with ragged cliffs and sharp peaks. Tonight, the darkness swallows them whole, turning the hills into stark, ghostly outlines.

I increase the pace, closing my eyes and wishing I didn’t seethatface behind my eyelids.

But she’s freaking there.

Brown skin. Pert nose. Full lips.

The bane of my existence.

In my head, I’m holding her.

Touching her.

Sinking deep into her.

It’s enough to send me right over the edge.

My partner twists her neck and smiles, thinking she’s the one responsible for that.

Dammit.

I step back, feeling annoyed more than satisfied.

“Zane, that was amazing.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, zipping up. I’ve been messing with this chick off and on. She doesn’t expect anything more than a good time and that’s pretty freaking hard to find in a girl at Redwood Prep.

“We should,” her fingers slide down my chest, “do this more often. Can I call you when I’m the one who needs to let off some steam?”

I smile, not giving her an answer.

Her phone rings.

She rolls her eyes and shares even though I didn’t ask, “It’s Vanya having another identity crisis. I swear it’s so stressful being cheer captain.” She pulls her skirt back up. “After Dutch de-throned Paris, the team fell into my lap and now—”

“Baby,” I cut her off because I really don’t care, “I gotta head back. Band practice.”

Her eyelashes flutter.

She looks pleased.

Poor thing has no idea that ‘baby’ is just a placeholder since I sometimes mix up the names of the girls I’m with. Nothing cuts a good time short like looking down at the girl I’m riding and saying the wrong name.

Lipstick smeared and eyes glinting, she leans forward to kiss me.

I push her back. “You know the drill.”

Sighing, she folds her arms over her chest and pouts. “You never let me kiss you.”

“I gave you plenty more than kissing.” I grab my helmet and nod at her. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Zane.”

I send her a backward wave, wait until I see her get safely in her car and then head home.

The motorcycle rumbles between my legs, a powerful thrum that roars down the road. The wind batters my face and makes my eyes sting.

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