Page 11 of Drift
The ride to downtown Crossbend didn’t take long, but it felt longer with Alanna pressed against me. The wind dragged strands of her hair across my neck, and her breath was a soft rhythm I could feel through the layers between us.
The café sat on a corner, two blocks from the waterfront, sunlight flashing off the glass storefront and the metal sign that readThe Drift Café.Cars lined the curb, locals moving slow in the heat. I parked at the edge of the lot, killed the engine, and helped her off.
She lifted the helmet, her cheeks flushed and hair tumbling loose. “Thank you.”
“Text me when you’re done.”
Her head tilted to the side, giving me a confused smile. “You’re not leaving?”
“I’ll be right here.” I crossed my arms over my chest and settled back on my bike.
Before she could answer, she was interrupted by a voice from across the lot, and her smile faltered.
“Alanna!”
The guy walking toward us looked like he’d come straight from a student catalog—pressed shirt, too-white sneakers, neatly parted hair, and a grin stretched a little too wide.
I was immediately on my guard. Something about him rubbed me the wrong way. Especially the proprietary gleam in his beady eyes when they scanned Alanna’s body. He seemed too comfortable in her space.
“Ethan,” she greeted, her smile forced.
He gave me a once-over, eyes catching on my cut, the bike, then back to her. “Who’s this guy?”
“Ethan, this is Drift. My car died, and he gave me a ride.”
My hands curled into fists when the little shit looked at her with disapproval, as if his opinion made a difference. “I would have come to get you, Alanna. You didn’t need to get a ride from…someone like him.” His voice dripped with disdain.
Alanna shot him a warning look. “Drift is Jaxton’s best friend. He’s…like a brother.”
Something cold twisted under my ribs.Like a brother. Like hell. We’d be clearing up that shit real soon, but this wasn’t the time or the place.
I didn’t move or speak, just stared hard at Ethan, satisfied when he couldn’t hold my gaze and dropped his eyes to the ground for a beat.
He puffed up his scrawny chest and tried again. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”
My eyes narrowed when he set his hand on her lower back, and she shifted uncomfortably.
He shot me a smirk that scraped every nerve I had. I stepped forward until my shadow covered his shoes. His smirk wilted. Then he took in my much larger frame, the ink on my knuckles, and the scar splitting my brow before his eyes caught the patch on my chest. The one that saidRedline Kings, Tail Gunner.The color drained from his face, and what little confidence he had left cracked.
I didn’t need to say a word. The air did it for me, practically rippling with the menace and lethal vibes coming from me.
“Drift.” Alanna’s hand brushed my arm, her pulse visible at her throat. “It’s fine.”
“I’ll be right here,” I repeated, my voice low enough to vibrate. My stare stayed on Ethan. “When you’re done, come straight out.”
She nodded, and her shoulders loosened a fraction—barely, but enough to see her relief.
I didn’t like that she needed to feel it, but I liked being the reason she could.
Ethan muttered something about coffee and hurried toward the door.
I watched him go, jaw locked, then leaned back against the bike once more. The sun beat down, the metal hot through my jeans, but I didn’t move. Inside the glass storefront, she sat across from him at a two-top table. Every time Alanna smiled politely instead of naturally, my pulse kicked harder. And every time he leaned in too close, I wanted to rearrange his teeth.
5
DRIFT
Two hours passed before the café door opened again.
