Page 71 of Until Tomorrow
“I’d rather not crash at all,” I told her honestly. “Self-preservation and all that.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I promise I’ll keep you safe,” I continued with a reassuring smile. I shrugged out of my jacket and helped her into it, even though she hadn’t given me a definitive answer yet. It swallowed her up, but damn if she didn’t look good in my leather. The sight made my dick stir, and I pushed those thoughts aside. The last thing I needed was to be riding with a hard-on. “Looks good on you.”
“I have no hands.” She giggled as she flapped the sleeves.God, she was fucking adorable.
“Try not to fly away on me now,” I teased as I climbed on my bike. I patted the seat behind me. Watching people who’ve never been on a motorcycle try to get on one always entertained me. It was a bike through and through, but they always made it more complicated. She was no different as she grabbed onto my shoulders for support. I kept my mouth shut while she settled behind me.
“What do I do with my hands?” she asked loudly over the engine as it roared to life.There were a few things my dick could think of for her to do with those hands.Had to think with the upstairs brain.
“Hold on.” I lifted my elbows. She sidled up closer, and her arms circled my waist. The small concern I’d get cold without my jacket vanished at the warmth of her soft body pressed against mine. That spark, that fire. She ignited something deep inside me. So much for not riding around with a fucking hard-on. It was inevitable at this point.
I chuckled as her arms and thighs tightened around me when my bike began moving.I hadn’t even opened it up yet.As I eased into traffic, I ran my palm over her linked fingers, enjoying the little surge of comfort the simple contact brought.
I kept her out later than I probably should’ve, but who knew if I’d get the chance to share it with her again? We drove up the coast, stopping in all the little inlets and secret spots I knew of that my bike could get easy access to. The ocean hit differently at night when the waves were calm and the moon was high. I couldn’t have asked for a better night, which was how we ended up staying out until almost two.
She stifled a yawn when I stopped in front of her building. There was no question about how opposite our worlds were as I stared at the neighborhood. The likelihood was that her condo probably cost more than all three of my places combined.
“Thank you,” she said as she got off.
“Anytime, spark plug,” I replied, and I meant it. I’d fucking drop everything to take her out again if she wanted.
“Evangeline,” she told me with that show-stopping smile of hers. The name and that smile gave me pause. “My name is Evangeline, but you can call me Eva. You never asked.”
“Maybe I just like calling you spark plug,” I replied.Or maybe knowing her name would give me one more thing to obsess over.“It’s nice to meet you, Eva.”
“Yeah, it is,” Eva whispered. “Good night, Rhett. I hope you sleep well tonight.”
“I will.” Why I said it was beyond me. I knew I’d be plagued by fantasies of her laugh, her smile, and those goddamn hips of hers.
Only after she disappeared upstairs did I realize she still had on my jacket.My lucky jacket.That thought made me grin. I’d had that thing since I was eighteen, but I’d lost it more times than I could count over the years. Every time, it managed to find its way back to me.
I may not have had Eva’s number, but I knew my lucky jacket would bring her back to me.
Chapter 39
Logan
Icould’vegottenworkdone. Could’ve was the keyword. I didn’t feel like it. Eva was out—hopefully not getting arrested—and I had no desire to spend my time doing work.How unlike me.Instead, I fussed around onTumbleas my brain toyed with the idea of trying to figure out what I was attracted to. I swiped through profile after profile, but my heart wasn’t in it. This approach felt more like science than true dating.
I swiped a few profiles, barely taking them in with each pass.And then Loren’s profile showed up, giving me pause.
CrashSmashBoom
I chuckled at his profile name. Knowing what he did for a living, I had to believe it was related to his company. I swiped through his pictures, taking time to look at each one.God, he was attractive.His rugged, carefree thing did something to me. I was attracted to him. When did that become a thing between all our random conversations?
Before I could think too much of it, I double-tapped on his profile.
And then much to my fucking dismay, three big yellow words popped up for me: it’s a match.Even the exclamation mark was overly excited.
God damn it.
Fucking hell.
That wasn’t what I expected. My chest tightened anxiously.What was I supposed to do from here?
A text message popped up—not through the app—and was enough to distract me.
