Wordless, and still smiling, Waitress reached for the cup Emily wasn’t using and poured herself some.
“Now this is the good stuff.” She sighed and lifted it in the air like it was liquor. “Cheers?”
Transfixed by her every move and word, I lifted my old cup. Forward and fearless… a woman after my own heart.
“What are we cheers-ing to?” I quirked a brow.
She hesitated for a second before she touched her cup to mine. “To road trips.”
I scowled, watching her over the rim of her cup, through the steam that lifted and misted across her nose and eyes, unable to take a drink myself because I could’ve sworn she’d just said, To road trips.
Before I could question her, Emily was back. “Oh, good. Your shift ended.”
I watched my stepsister sit next to Waitress in the seat, only for the two of them to hug.
“Summer.” Emily motioned a hand my way. “Meet my stepbrother, Niyol.”
Holy shit.
Waitress was my ride to Cali?
“Hi.” Summer blushed a sweet pink, giving me a little wave like she’d done earlier.
My response? “Fuck. Me.”
Two
Summer
Maybe I’d grown a second head. Or my mind had been invaded by little green aliens. Because if there was ever a time I should have considered myself crazy, it was the moment I agreed to a road trip with Niyol Lattimore, my best friend’s incredibly sexy stepbrother.
“I can still change my plans, you know. Drive him myself. Sam said our travel dates are interchangeable, so it’s not a big deal if I need to postpone.” Emily stared down at the gravel drive, her feet dangling over the front bumper of my Range Rover.
“Not happening.” I swung my feet like her, bumping our shoulders together.
“But what about your job at the diner? I hate that you have to quit.”
“Not me.” A summer without perverted truckers would not be disappointing. Plus, I didn’t necessarily need the money. Sure, the tips I earned from waitressing were nice for an occasional manicure or massage, but those things weren’t necessities. Besides that, I only worked there as a favor to my cousin—the manager of the place. I’d spent every summer since I was sixteen working at that diner. Now, at twenty-four, I was more than ready to call it quits and actually have a summer vacation like teachers were supposed to.
Emily was six weeks away from starting back at work too—she was a science teacher at the middle school where I taught English. The two of us had been friends since college, floormates, instantly clicking over a late-night study session in the library.
“We’ve already been over this, Em. You deserve time with Sam, just like I deserve a few weeks of R and R on the road.” Even if the R and R was with a semi-stranger who’d gifted me with a lifetime’s worth of material to paddle my pink canoe.
“But what if—”
“No buts, what-ifs, or anything remotely close to an excuse. You just got engaged. Go celebrate.” I smiled at her. “Have loads of crazy sex and forget that you even have a crazy stepbrother while you’re at it.”
My best friend didn’t have a single bone in her body made for arguing, at least with me, therefore I knew she’d let it go. She wasn’t a pushover, so to speak, more a woman who preferred the calm to a storm. It was what made us such a crazy-awesome pair. We were not two peas in a pod by ordinary standards, but we were each other’s lifelines. So, the second she’d told me about her dilemma—having to choose between driving Niyol to San Diego or going on a surprise cruise with Sam—I’d known what I needed to do.
Emily twirled her engagement ring around her finger. It was huge and sparkly, everything I’d wanted four weeks ago. Everything I’d had, I should say.
The dress had been altered, the reception hall booked, the table decorations designed, now stored in the rafters of my father’s garage. And the honeymoon to Bermuda…? Well, Landon, that bastard ex-fiancé of mine, was currently there with his new girlfriend.
I swallowed hard, tears instantly blurring my vision at the thought. No. I wouldn’t cry. I’d gone an entire week without doing so. Why was I letting this get to me now?
“You know you don’t owe me anything, right?” Emily interrupted my thoughts, touching my forearm.
Nonchalantly, I wiped at my cheeks beneath my sunglasses with one hand, keeping my face turned the other way as I answered. “I do. But this is what best friends are for.”
“I’m just…”
“Just what?”
“Worried.”
“About me?” I put my hand on my chest, facing her again. “Please. I’m fine.”
“You’re vulnerable, and Niyol can be a real asshole. He’s incredibly conniving when he wants something. If your intentions are to go on this trip and get over Landon, then this may not be the way to go about doing so.”
“I can handle it,” I said after a long pause. “Seriously, Em. I’m not some damsel in distress, in need of a hero to remind me what it’s like to be a woman.”
If anything, after Landon, I wanted nothing else to do with the male species. Not when it came to love. Not when it came to a happily ever after. And certainly not for booty calls.
For my entire life, I’d counted on a man to protect me, love me, honor me. But I was done. Done with a capital D.
“And even if you were, Ny’s not some sexual Superman. He’s an ex-con and—”
“A former member of the Red Dragons, blah, blah, blah. I get it.”
She glared at me.
I winked, thankful for the emotional reprieve.
As a teacher who dealt with hormonal middle-school kids ten months out of the year, I knew a thing or two about dealing with enigmas. And that’s exactly what Niyol was. Instead of being the twelve or thirteen-year-old type, though, he was the twenty-six-year-old kind.
The moment I sat across from him in that booth last night, I had him pegged. Tormented and broody, secrets running amok in his head, angry at the world, but willing to give it a shot, regardless.
In a way, Niyol and I were kind of alike. I, too, wanted a new shot at life. A shot where I could just be me, forgoing my past and my pains for a chance at reinventing myself. Who I was as a woman, most of all. No longer would I be someone’s second in life. Not to my father, who always chose my brothers or his job over me, and certainly not to guys like Landon, who found other women to satisfy their sexual needs.
Emily stared at the front door of her mom’s house, the wheels in her head spinning. I touched her shoulder and smiled in reassurance when she faced me again.
“Please don’t worry about this. Or me. If I didn’t think I could handle the trip, then I wouldn’t have suggested taking him.”
“You’ll at least call me, right? If it gets too bad?” Emily frowned.
“Of course.” I patted her hand just as the screen door banged shut, drawing our attention to the front porch.
Unwittingly, my breath caught at the sight of Niyol, just like it had done the night before across the length of the diner. In all his six-foot-plus glory, he sauntered down the front porch steps, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. The color of his bag matched his midnight hair. Thick, heavy layers hanging over his forehead, just barely touching the tops of his tan cheeks. The patch of scruff he sported around his lips covered the lower half of his face, while his dark brown eyes took control of the world and everything in it. He was one-quarter Native American like Emily. Niyol Lattimore may have run the gamut of trouble, but he was one hell of a gorgeous sight.
“So, quick question,” I whispered conspicuously into Emily’s ear. “Does he always look so grumpy?” I continued to watch him, licking my lips, his sexy swagger tripping my heart up a beat regardless of my new man-ban. The soles of his black boots could easily crush a hand or foot. Probably had crushed their fair share of hearts too.
With his hands tucked into his back pockets, and his chin to his chest, he looked like a warrior on the verge of destruction; his co
at of armor consisting of black jeans and a black tee. His movements were slow, deliberate, and his thighs, the massive muscles encasing them, bulged with every step he took. Niyol was massive. Even standing at five-foot-nine myself, he towered over me by at least four inches.
“Maya doesn’t even know he’s coming,” Emily whispered back, ignoring my question. “It has to be hitting him what he’s about to do, you know? Surprising her like this.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” His throaty words crackled through the air, as though he smoked a pack a day. Maybe he did.
“I’m just worried about you, Ny.” Emily’s shoulders dropped, worry for the guy engrained between the dip of her brows.
“You need to stop worrying about me.” He tossed his duffle bag into the backseat with a grunt and slammed the door, never looking in my direction as he moved to stand in front of his stepsister. That was a change from the night before. Definitely not the best ego-booster either.
“I’ll always worry about you.” My best friend grazed his shoulder as she jumped off the hood.
“I’m fine.” He took a step back and knifed a hand through his hair, as though her touch were poison. I could totally relate to dealing with Emily’s constant pessimism, but did he have to be such a dick about it?
Trying my best to ease the tension, I pounded on the hood of my Range Rover, just once. “All right, it’s time to jet.”
Emily held her finger up to me, eyes widening. “Hold up a second, I forgot something inside.”
Nodding, I brushed off my hands on the back of my jeans and walked toward the driver’s side. From over the roof, I started to tell Niyol our plans for the first leg of our five-day trip.
“I want to make it to Des Moines before the sun sets. My grandparents are expecting us for the night. I need to warn you first, Grams loves to talk. My grandpa, on the other hand—”
“I’ll sleep in the car.”
I narrowed my eyes at him from over the roof. “Excuse me?”
“I said I’m gonna sleep. In. The. Car.” He tipped his head to the side, studying me. Challenging me.
“You’ll sleep in the car,” I huffed, annoyed.
“That’s what I said.” He leaned over the roof and set his elbows on top, dark brows rising mid-forehead.
“You can’t sleep in the car. Not when there will be two perfectly good beds for us to sleep in at my grandparents’ home.”
His lip tilted up on one side in a smirk, highlighting a scar beneath his nose. “Gonna set one thing straight before we do this, Princess. First off—”
“Did you just call me ‘Princess’?” My eyes widened.
“Anyone driving a car that costs more than a house is a princess.” He glared at me.
“Well…” I swirled my index finger in a circle, attempting to spit the words out, whatever they might be. “You, I… This…”
Nice diction there, Summer. Two minutes in this man’s presence and I was suddenly losing all semblance of normalcy.
Before I could tell him off, Emily bounced back out the front door. When I glanced at her, Niyol snuck into the backseat, mumbling something under his breath that I’m pretty sure I didn’t want to hear.
Breathless, like she’d been running, Emily shoved her hand out in front of me. She opened her mouth to say something, but lifted her brows in suspicion as she stared between me and the back window.
I jumped in front of her, blocking the view. “What’s up, Buttercup?”
“Take this.”
I stared at the silver container on her palm, nose scrunched. “Pepper spray?”
“There are a lot of scary people out there in the world, you know.”
I wondered if she was secretly referring to Niyol.
To appease her, I grabbed it and stuffed it into the pocket of my shorts. “You do know I have super ninja skills, right?”
“Uh, no. You don’t.” She moved back when I opened my door.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I kissed her forehead before sitting in the driver’s seat. “I’ll miss your face.”
“Take care of yourself,” she called through the open window, giving me a little wave.
I glanced into the backseat, finding Moody Booty with his eyes narrowed as he scrolled through his phone.
Smiling the brightest smile ever, I turned back toward Emily and said, “Don’t worry. Everything will be fabulous. Promise.”
Famous. Last. Words.
Three
Niyol
I couldn’t stand her music. Over and over, she played this twangy shit, singing along with every song from a playlist I’d come to learn—not by choice—was called Road Trip Beats. Had I known I’d be riding alongside the Karaoke Queen, then I would’ve brought some ear plugs.
“Can you turn it down?” I groaned.
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I would, but I’m really freaking tired and having the music loud helps me stay awake.” She paused for a second. “What kind of music do you like listening to? I can change the station at least. Compromising is the best and cheapest lawyer.”
Whatever the fuck that meant.
“No. I got a headache. Need silence.” I rolled over to my side and grabbed my cell phone from the floor, squinting at the time. 5:45 p.m.
“But—”
“How ’bout you let me drive instead.” I pushed up to a sitting position between the front seats. I wouldn’t mind getting behind the wheel of a pretty car like this. Mostly so I could fuck up the engine by going too fast.
She scowled at me in the rearview mirror, then refocused on the road. “You just said you had a headache.”
“Fine. Then pull over at the next exit.” I ran a hand over my face and sat up completely. I probably should’ve curbed the dick routine, but she wasn’t the only one who was exhausted, not to mention on edge.
I’d been up all night, worrying over the fact that I’d be stuck in a car for three days with her. She’d cast a spell on me at that damn diner, and I wasn’t about to be sidetracked from my main goal.
When I wasn’t tossing and turning in bed, thinking about Summer’s sparkling eyes, I was feeling like an asshole because I’d been bitched at by my cousin, Slade, and best friend, Archer, who’d showed up at Lisa’s unannounced round midnight.
Since getting out of the pen, I hadn’t made the effort to see or talk to either of them—or anyone else from the club for that matter. I had known it’d be hard to avoid the two of them. They were always loyal to me, always knew where I was, unlike the rest of the RDs who I’d somehow managed to avoid, having my back on runs, calming me down when Pops laid out the law and fucked me over in the process—that’s who Slade and Archer were. Which was why I did owe them some kind of explanation as to why I was leaving cold turkey instead of trying to talk it out at the club.
I didn’t want to admit that I’d been threatened in prison. So I told them the semi-version of the truth. How I wanted to start over, and I wanted to do it in San Diego.
They’d begged me not to go, even went as far as threatening to chop my nuts off if I did. I knew they’d be pissed, which was why I’d been trying to leave town under the radar. Me running from the club was one thing. Running from those two was a whole other fucked-up notion.
Thing was, they didn’t know what it was like to live with the guilt of being a rat. They were solid with the club, good brothers who could do no wrong, unlike me. Maybe someday I’d be back, accept whatever fate awaited me with the RDs. But I wasn’t ready yet.
Hell, I might never be.
“We’ll be there in less than an hour. Can you wait just a little longer?” Summer asked.
“No. There’s an exit up ahead, and you can grab some coffee or an energy drink. I want a smoke.” My lower back cracked, proof that I should’ve sat up front with her. But I’d needed to try and get some rest, stretch my legs in the process. Otherwise, I’d be dragging ass if she asked me to drive.
Thankfully, Su
mmer stopped arguing, taking that exit like the devil was messing with her foot. I’d likely pissed her off. Something I swore to Emily that I wouldn’t do. Tomorrow, I’d do better. Tonight, though? I was too tired to care.
The white sign to the right said Winterset: Covered Bridge Capital of the World. The sign next to it said: Birthplace of John Wayne.
“This place is quaint.” Her voice was happy as we drove further into town. Perky, really—everything Emily was not. “I’m kind of glad we stopped, actually.” She took a left, then a right, until we wound up on some random street.
I stared out the window and watched the streetlights pop on. I hadn’t been in a town like this before. Quaint wasn’t what I’d call it. Old and run-down, like something out of a thirties western, was more like it.
She parked in front of a coffee shop and only then did she turn her music down. It was the quietest she’d been all day. I met her gaze in the rearview mirror. My gut got tight at the view, and I quickly looked back down at my lap. She might’ve said something, but I couldn’t hear it. Not when a buzz was filling my ears. Not when the intensity of her blue eyes was damn near swallowing me whole.
Focus, Ny.
Keys jingled in her hands. “I’m gonna head inside and grab some coffee. Meet back here in ten?”
I jumped out of her fancy-ass car and mumbled, “Fine.”
I missed my bike. The open air, the smells, the noises… Had my Harley been in better shape, I would’ve set out on this trip alone. Would’ve been a hell of a lot better off, that’s for damn sure.
The bell over the door jingled when I stepped inside the convenience store. The stench of sweat smacked me in the face. I made my way to the front counter, meeting up with an old man.
“Marlboro Reds.” I pointed to the shelf behind the register, digging in my wallet for a ten.
He turned to grab them, just as the door’s bells chimed again. I glanced over my shoulder, finding a couple of preppy boys who looked like college kids. They shoved each other, laughing. My guess was they went to school up at Iowa State. One had a frat shirt on, the other a Polo.
Her Wild Ride: An addictive, steamy biker MC romance suspense novel Page 2