Page 11 of Burnout
“Hiiii,” she drawls out, scanning me with a smile like she’s in on some inside joke.
“Hey, I’m Knox,” I say.
“Knox and I went to school together,” Colter tells her. He leans down and kisses her neck. “This is my girlfriend, Quinn.”
“Nice to meet you.” She lifts a hand and wiggles her fingers. Her boyfriend keeps kissing her neck as she reaches out that same hand and pulls another girl closer.The smokeshow.
My lips curve as I get a good look at her up close. Long blonde hair is curled around her heart-shaped face, and her eyes are a bright, almost neon, blue. She’s wearing this light pink lacy dress thing that’s short and tight. My mouth goes dry. She’s hot, no doubt about it. I stare hard, taking in her long, tan legs all the way down to her dirty white sneakers. They’re the only part of her that isn’t prim and perfect. Where the hell did she think she was going tonight in that outfit, and how did she end up here?
At some point she put on a short black leather jacket over the dress, like she was trying to blend in with her surroundings. It didn’t help. She sticks out in this place, all prissy and pink. Even her vehicle sticks out. Retro Bronco with a custom paint job in light pink. It’s a sea of black and chrome around here, and then there’s her.
“This is my friend, Avery. I think you two had a run-in earlier.” Quinn giggles before nuzzling into Colter and the two of them get more serious about making out.
Avery and I stand and stare at each other for a beat, neither saying anything at first, but Quinn and Colter don’t seem to be coming up for air.
“Hi,” she says, then shuffles uncomfortably.
“I’m Knox.”
I don’t know why I don’t say more. I just sort of stare at her. I’m not one for getting tongue-tied around a woman, but she’s just so prissy. Undeniably hot, but high maintenance. I’d be better off letting Brooklyn claw my eyes out than messing with this one. But damn if I’m not tempted to ask her if she wants to hop on my bike and go for a ride.
“Are you a freestyle racer too?” she asks.
“Rider.”
“What?”
“Rider, not racer.”
“Right. Whatever. You knew what I meant.” Her tone is harder than I expected, and I find myself holding in a chuckle. Smokeshow is sassy.
She looks at her friend for an out, but Quinn is still kissing Colter, so she glances back at me. “So, are you?”
“They aren’t racing bikes, they’re riding them. So, they’re riders,” I clarify. “And I ride motocross.”
“What’s the difference?”
“When I’m riding, Iamracing.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her pink lips. They’re big and full, sort of pouty in a way that makes me want to kiss her to see what they feel like against mine.
One of the guys I was hanging out with earlier calls my name and I glance back at him. He motions toward his motorcycle, indicating he wants to take off and go for a ride.
“I could show you.”
“Show me?” Her voice rises several octaves on the last word.
“Yeah. You want to go for a ride with me?” Excitement thrums under my skin at the thought of her on the back of my bike.
Those perfect lips part into an “o” but no sound comes out as she considers my question. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to figure out how to politely tell me to fuck off. I laugh, knowing damn well she won’t say yes even before she shakes her head.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know you.”
“Colter will vouch for me.” Though as I glance over at him, he’s still got his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat. “Afraid you might get dirty?”
“Afraid I might die,” she quips. “I’m familiar with your driving skills, remember?”
My mouth quirks up on one side. “You mean when you nearly ran me over?”
