Page 8 of Billionaire and the Barista

I returned to my bike and got in the pack to the side. The first race was about to start. I wasn’t going to be in the heat. This was always the new bees. The route was designed to distract the cops from the real races, it was long and convoluted. Only new bees went out in this heat because no one ever told them they were there for one job only, keeping the cops away from the rest of us.

Getting the race started was a production. The DJ changed the music. Someone picked a hot chick to wave the start flag. Engines throbbed, raring to go. She dropped the flag, and with a collective roar the bikers all took off. In true new bee form, a few spun out and dropped their bikes immediately, while other hotshots pulled a wheelie and sped off.

For a few brief seconds, it was almost silent after the racers left, and then the DJ dropped a beat, and we were back to the party. Occasionally the wail of a siren would lilt toward us on the breeze. We ignored the sirens, knowing that the distraction was out there.

I saw Gabriella for a brief moment. My gut clenched. She was so fucking beautiful, and she was not going to like what I had to tell her. She twinkled her fingers at me, and I gave her a nod. Her eyes stayed locked with mine until my buddy slapped me on the shoulder.

I glanced over at him.

“Time to go,” Rhys said.

“Right.” When I looked back to where Gabriella had been, she was gone.

I slipped my helmet on and guided my bike over the starting area. She purred like the fine piece of equipment she was. We packed into the starting area, the hot chick dropped her starting flag, and with the roar of a thousand lions, we tore out of there.

I slipped into a decent fourth place. I wanted to assess the other riders on this first race. I never tried to win my first time out of the gate. I raced fast and smart, and that meant getting to know who my competition was. On any given weekend it was a different group of hopefuls. We played tag as we slid through traffic, in and out between cars, busting through red lights. Traffic rules did not apply to us, and at the speeds we went, physics barely touched up.

I stayed in fourth the entire time, all the way across the finish line. The next heat I didn’t hang back. We were out and jockeying for positions. I easily slid into fourth, hot on the tale of the guy in third. Only he didn’t know that I was holding back. On the first turn, I opened up the throttle and passed him as if he was taking a walk, and not passing speeds of ninety miles an hour on city streets. As easy as it was to overtake the guy in third, I passed second place.

First place taunted me a bit. He really played with me, slowing enough to make me think I had him only to tear off and leave me in his dust. Well, I wasn’t having that. This was my fucking race. The route took us on a stretch of 170. I cut behind a semi and passed him on the shoulder. When I appeared again, my bike was flying fast in front of the truck, cutting across the open lanes and cutting in front of the asshole in the first place. I kept him on my bumper the entire time all the way back across the finish line.

“Yeah!” I shouted as I pulled my helmet off. Girls kissed me, and I was pounded on the back with the pat of a thousand congratulations. Full of attitude from my win I swaggered over to the bookie who reluctantly handed me my winnings. It was an easy ten grand.

Gabby came running and threw herself into my arms. Her lips crushed to mine, and she wrapped her legs over my hips. I grabbed her ass and held her tight, slowly spinning in a circle to redirect the momentum of her tackle.

“That was amazing!” she declared when we finally parted. I let go of her ass, and she slid down my body. It would have been a hell of a lot hotter, and I would have felt her against me if it hadn’t been for the biking armor I wore under my clothes. I may be stupid enough to street race, but I was smart enough to gear up for minimum damage.

“I’ve missed you today, and then you go and fucking win. Nathan, you…” she trailed off and just looked at me.

I cupped her face in my hands and took her in. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t leave her here.

“I have something I need to tell you,” I said.

“It can wait. We have all night. I want to tell you something too.” She seemed so perfect and happy at that moment. I only wish I had known then what I would learn in the following hour. Maybe I would have done a better job at memorizing her face.

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