Page 63 of The Ache That Stayed

She huffed. I shrugged slightly.

“You’re welcome.” I mocked.

She smacked my arm.

“Asshole.”

I grinned inside my helmet. Worth it.

But even as the road stretched ahead of us, my mind kept drifting back to the underpass. To the way she’d looked at me. To how close I’d come to kissing her.

And the dangerous realisation settling somewhere deep in my chest. Two years away hadn’t changed a damn thing.

If anything—

It had made it worse.

CHAPTER 16

Roxanne

The ride back was mostly quiet.

A million thoughts crowded my head.

The wind whipped strands of my hair loose from the helmet, but I barely noticed. My mind kept replaying the evening in a loop.

What had just happened?

Who were those men and what did they want?

My pulse was still racing, not just from the ride but from the memory of their eyes on me. Fear clung to my skin, even as heat from Santino’s body seeped through.

And the ride—it had been exhilarating.

The vibration of the bike thrummed through my thighs, syncing with my pulse until I couldn’t tell where adrenaline ended and something else began.

And Santino—so close. The twitch of his lips. The scar on his brow. And I tried my best to not get pulled into his frost-grey eyes, but they were hypnotic, drawing me in, leaving me transfixed. The smell of mint, leather and something unbearably masculine sank so deep into my bones that it kept me from pushing him away.

My body betrayed every ounce of logic I had.

We were pressed together and I could feel his chest muscle move with every breath he took. The way his hand lingered on me made me feel like I’d combust into ash.

Why?

Why could my body not behave for once?

And his breath on my lips—fuck.

We almost kissed.

Logic dictated I push him away, but instead I let him crowd into my space, let the hardness of him press against the softness of me.

I wondered how his body would feel under my hands. Would his muscles shudder under my touch? I wondered if his touch would be gentle or harsh and needy the way he gripped my waist beneath the underpass.

Those wanton thoughts sent heat crawling up my neck, pooling low in my belly.

No.