Page 86 of Best Kind of Trouble
I want her, obviously, but I’m used to that by now. This is a bristly, protective feeling that’s usually reserved for my sister and brother.
Those fuckers at that table hurt her. They all hurt her, and they should pay.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before,” she whispers in my ear.
“All you need to remember is to hang on tight, Princess. Don’t ever let go.”
The front door of Sterling Manor bursts open.
“Briar?” her father bellows.
“Does the gate open automatically when people are leaving?” I ask Briar.
If not, I’ll have to try pushing it open manually while her father shouts at me. Not ideal, but I bet I can do it. Bonus points if I break it.
“Yes.” Her arms squeeze around me, a tendril of her hair tickling my neck. “Let’s go.”
“Briar, get back here right this moment,” her father snaps. “You’re acting like a child.”
We’re facing the gate, but I reach back and give him the finger. I figure the anger management classes must have worked after all, because I settle for doing no more than that.
I rev up the bike, getting a gasp from Briar, and then we’re on the move. The gate opens before us like a promise.You CAN get the fuck out of here, congratulations.
Truthfully, it feels good not having the helmet on. The air is whistling in my ears and blowing my hair back from my face. Danger dances through my veins.
Nah, it’s her that’s got me feeling like my blood is dancing.
The whole way to the gym, Briar holds me tightly, her arms wrapped around my waist, her whole body arced into mine. Probably because she’s scared she’s going to fall off, but I like the way it feels.
My dick likes it too. It gets a little harder every second.
This trip to the gym isn’t about me, though. Briar’s got some shit to exorcise. Been there, needed that. Better for her to do it with me than to blow up her life.
When we get to the gym, all the lights are out, not that I expected anything different. It must be past nine, which means the place is ours. Mick gave me a key last year when he needed someone to stick around late on the weekend to receive a package, and he’s never asked for it back. I think he understands that I sometimes need to work out when no one else is around—when it’s only me and my demons. And he’s a good enough friend to support me without being asked.
After I park the bike, I wait for Briar to get off, and then I climb off myself, watching as she removes the helmet.Her fingers are shaking a little, so I take over and then return the helmet to its spot on the bike.
I can’t resist running a hand through her hair to smooth it. Her beauty strums another chord inside of me.
“Liam,” she whispers, her soft eyes holding mine.
So much sadness and need are carried on my name. I want to drown in those deep waters, but I also want to survive, so I start walking toward the front door of Bell’s.
She follows me but waits a few steps away while I unlock the door. Probably because she’s feeling it too—the potential for everything to shift in a way we shouldn’t allow.
The familiar scents of the gym wash over me. Sweat and dust. I take off my coat and hang it, and in my peripheral vision I watch Briar do the same. She pauses before removing her high-heeled shoes as well.
I lock the door behind us and head onto the main floor of the gym.
I don’t look back as she trails me inside. I can’t. The sound of her padding in after me is enough to sharpen my awareness of her.
I make my way to the rack of gloves, finding the pair that’s too big. I make a mental note to get this woman some gloves that fit. If she’s going to make this brewery work despite everything stacked against her, she’s going to need them.
I can do that for her.
At least I can do that.
She pauses beside me, and I let myself soak her in. She looks so sad it makes me want to kill someone, to be perfectly honest. The anger is hot and brutal and familiar, and it feels good.
