Page 92 of Rogue's Path
Tempting man. “Shouldn’t we be going?”
“We should.” He brushes a finger across my cheek.
Don’t kiss him. If you want a serious, lasting relationship, it can’t just be based on the physical. I step back. “Let’s get this party started.”
“Somehow, I don’t think you love road trips.” He starts walking again with my hand firmly in his.
“Not in the least. I get antsy and bored. And I never get bored.” I hate admitting a weakness.
“Another thing we have in common.”
“Another? What else do we have in common?” It’s hard to think I have anything in common with this man. Other than an obsession to kiss him.
“We’ll do anything to protect a friend. We don’t play games. If we want something, we fight for it. And we forgive freely.”
He knows all that about me? “What we’re doing now is kind of a game?”
“This is us flirting.”
It is?
“And showing each other how much we trust them.”
Oh.
OH.
Without another word, we walk outside.
A fancy black truck with wheels that come up to my waist sits idling in front of the door. Attached to it is a matching black trailer with their club’s name on the side. “What’s inside?”
“Two motorcycles.”
Havoc called them custom orders. “You make custom motorcycles.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am. That’s what you call old ladies.”
Integer chuckles as he walks up. “The truck’s full. Everything is tied down nice and tight and covered. I’ll see you in a week.” He hands Rogue three sets of keys and walks away.
A week. A WEEK. We’re going to end up killing each other by then. Trial by fire.
“Ready?”
No. “Of course.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I am. “Is that another thing we have in common?”
“It might be.” He opens the truck door for me.
The first challenge of the trip presents itself. “How am I supposed to get in there?”
“Like this.” He puts two hands on my waist and lifts me up onto the seat.
That was completely impractical, but sexy nonetheless.
