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Born to Ride

Page 72

by Kasey Millstead


  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I’m not going out with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’d more than likely leave me by the side of the road to get back at me.”

  “You could always drive.”

  “You’d ride with me on my scooter?” She sounds doubtful.

  “Sure.” I’m sure the look I give her says it’s not my favourite idea, but the smile that breaks out across her lips is so fucking spectacular I’d consider riding on the back of her scooter every day of my life just to see that flash of pretty white teeth.

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is Sugartown. There’s not exactly an abundance of places to go.”

  “There’s a pub isn’t there?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “There a pool table?” She nods, and I feel myself smile so wide I know my dimples are coming out. “You play?”

  Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. I have to fight the urge the grab her face with my hands and force her lips to mine.

  “Not for a long time.” She holds my stare for what feels like forever, and there’s something calculating behind her eyes, but then she looks away. “Listen, I can’t go out with you tonight, I have to babysit Sammy.”

  “I thought he was staying at what’s-his-name’s house tonight?” Holly pipes up from behind the counter. Clearly, pretending she’s not listening to our conversation is something she’s not fazed with.

  “Holly!” Ana shoots her a look, it’s one I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of, but Holly just shrugs her shoulders and stares defiantly. Her friend may be as freaking crazy as a monkey on meth, but I think I’m beginning to like her.

  “What? It’s true.”

  “Well, it may be true, but you know what he’s like at a sleepover. He’s there ten minutes before he’s begging an adult to drive him home.”

  “Couldn’t you just go until you get a call to come pick him up?”

  “Come on, Ana Belle, it’s the least you could do after humiliating me in front of your dad for the past two weeks.”

  “Hey, you brought that on yourself.”

  “How so?”

  “You came strutting in here all cocky, with your dimples and your tattoos and your big brown eyes and expected us to swoon.”

  “Baby girl, if that’s all it takes to make you swoon then you just wait ‘til you see what I do with my hands.”

  Ana swallows hard and becomes a little misty eyed before her face shuts down into the scowl she often wears around me. “I don’t think so.”

  She turns to walk away and I lurch forward and grab her wrist. “Come on, Ana. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

  “That’s not saying much, Elijah.”

  “Do you judge every guy this unfairly, or just me?”

  She turns with a cocky grin, but when she sees I’m deadly serious, the smile fades. I don’t mean to be such a dick, but I’ve lived most my life living up to the bad expectations others place on me and I won’t have that with her. I can’t have her thinking of me that way, even if it’s all I deserve.

  “I’m sorry. You must think I’m a complete bitch?”

  “Well, not a complete bitch, maybe 99.9 per cent of one—”

  “Hey.” She swats at my arm and, like a complete tool, I flex my bicep beneath her fingers. It wasn’t even deliberate, just instinct. For a half second I imagine what it’d be like to give into the urge to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless, but then the way she smiles at me makes me feel like a complete arsehole for objectifying her so blatantly. This should tell me I’m in over my head with this girl.

  I’m not the guy who stays in one place long enough to have a second date. When they’re seeing proposals and picket fences I’m checking out of shitty motels and watching road signs turn to dust in my rear-view mirrors. I’m practically married to that white line.

  So why the hell can’t I walk away?

  “You can make it up to me by letting me pick you up at eight o’clock,” I say.

  She shakes her head, but her smile tells me I’ve won. “I thought you said I could drive?”

  “You can,” I say and tuck into my pie. “You can drive my bike. As long as you can handle the pace, that is. I have to warn you, though; the steering’s a little different from a Vespa.”

  “I can drive anything.”

  “Somehow I don’t doubt that, Ana Belle. I don’t doubt that at all.”

  Ana

  Holly bounces up and down on my bed and I have to count backwards from one-hundred so I don’t choke her. I can’t believe she screwed me over so thoroughly. I tell her as much, and she pokes her tongue out at me in her typical response to being reprimanded.

  “Come on, Ana, would it really kill you to go out with Mr I’m So Freaking Hot Even My Mother Would Sell Her Soul to Get a Piece Of This? Would it kill you to have a little fun for once?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “You have some serious issues. That’s gross.”

  “Gross, but true. Ana, he’s gorgeous and you need this.”

  “I do not need a date with Elijah Cade.”

  “Okay fine, you know what? I need a date with Elijah. Take off that outfit, I’m gonna trade places with you.” She grabs at my top and tries to lift it over my head but I bat her away.

  “Elijah’s my date, and I’m not having you steal him away like you did with Matt Roberts at Vanessa Carter’s party in year nine.”

  Holly rolls her eyes. “Are you ever going to get over that? I told you, I was standing in the hall and he just happened to fall onto my lips. It wasn’t my fault that the place was so crowded you could barely breathe without making out with someone. And I thought you said this wasn’t a date.”

  “It’s not. I mean, it is, but it’s not. I don’t know. He makes me all twitchy.”

  “Aww, you really like him.”

  It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “He’s all kinds of wrong for me, Holly.”

  “Who cares? No one’s asking you to marry him.”

  “He’s trouble. Exactly the kind of guy I should avoid.” I sigh. She’s looking at me like I just strung up her kitten as a Christmas ornament. “You know what this town is like. Within five minutes of walking into that pub tongues will be wagging and Sugartown will be rife with gossip. You know how antsy my dad gets with talk like that? The next time Constable Davis sees him throwing down, he’ll be locked up for weeks.”

  “Ana, this is exactly why you need a distraction like Elijah. Between Sam, your dad, the dragon and the shop you have too much stress in your life. If you don’t blow off a little tension, you’re gonna explode! And I am not cleaning up chunks of Ana from the shop floor.”

  “And you don’t think a date with Elijah’s just going to add to the stress?”

  “Not with those hands, he’s not. I wonder what kind of orgasm face he makes?” she asks and performs some kind of facial gymnastics. Either that, or she’s having a stroke. I’m kicking myself that my phone is in the other room, because moments like this should be documented for all time. “Ooh, oh, take a picture of it for me, will you?”

  “You are sick. You know that, right?”

  “Yep.” She leaps off the bed and scoops up a black top that I’d been considering. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a hot date with Zac Effron. He is so freaking hot post High School Musical. I wonder what kind of face Zac makes? Wear the white top, not the yellow, it makes your boobs look bigger and don’t forget to take pictures. I wanna see how far down those tattoos go.”

  After she leaves I apply a little make-up and consider pinning up my hair, but then I think about dealing with the helmet hair that’s bound to have me fussing all night and I decide to tie it in a loose knot at the back of my head until we pull up at the pub.

  When I’m done, I hear Elijah’s bike on the gravel drive outside. I tear through the house, scooping up an over the shoulder bag and my helmet from the kitchen table.


  I open the door and Elijah’s standing before me with his hand raised to knock. He gives me a startled smile. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I reply.

  I start to pull the door shut behind me and he looks over my shoulder, “Your dad home?”

  “No. He and the dragon left already.”

  “Okay. You ready?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.” I breeze past him.

  * * *

  I knew my entrance with Elijah would cause a stir. Walking into the only pub in town with the newest resident sexy biker after you’ve been labelled the town whore is bound to make waves. The stares and silence that ensued were deafening. And thank god my dad was down at the river or Constable Davis would be making good on his threat.

  “We shouldn’t have come here,” I whisper to Elijah as he takes my hand in his and leads me to the privacy of the pool room—and, by privacy, I mean not-at-all-private, as there are at least two walls that open out to the main bar.

  “No one’s looking at you, Ana, they’re looking at me and I’m used to it. If I’m not worried, then you shouldn’t be either.” He takes out his wallet from his back pocket and lines four coins up along one end of the pool table, securing it as ours for the next good long while. “You know how to rack ’em?”

  I nod and bite down on my lip to avoid the smile that wants to spring forth. If there’s one thing my dad taught me to do, it’s play pool. I’ve been hustling money off of his friends, men three times my age, since I was ten-years-old.

  “Yeah, I think I’ve got it,” I mutter to Elijah as I take the cues down from the wall and set about racking up the balls.

  “What’s your poison, Ana?” The huskiness in his tone forces my gaze to lock onto his and heat to spread over my cheeks and between my thighs. And, as he stands there, challenging me with those melty eyes, I’m quite sure he already knows the answer to that question.

  Instead of making a complete fool out of myself I smile sweetly and say, “Vodka, lime and soda.”

  “Lightweight,” he whispers and the challenge is unmistakable. It’s true. I am a lightweight, but that’s not why I chose it. The truth is, I already feel so out of control around Elijah that I don’t really need the buzz of alcohol to impair my judgement anymore. “Vodka, lime and soda it is, but next time, I’m buying you a real drink.”

  “You planning on getting me drunk so you can take advantage of me, Cade?”

  “Ana.” He leans in close, sending a bolt of desire through me as his warm breath skates across my neck. “When I do finally get you naked beneath me—and trust me, it’s not a question of if, but when—I’m going to make sure you haven’t so much as looked at a drink. I want you to remember everything I do with my hands and my lips and my tongue.”

  My breath leaves me in a rush. I clutch the edge of the pool table behind me so tightly I can feel I’m losing circulation in my fingers. I’m having a hard time believing he’s just whispered something so intimate in the middle of a packed bar and an even harder time believing I could be so turned on by it.

  Elijah pulls away slowly, removing his hand that had somehow found its way onto my hip. How did I not know his hand was resting on my hip? His gaze is locked onto mine, clearly reading my every thought, because somewhere between him picking me up earlier this evening and him saying those words to me just now, the filter between us has vanished.

  He smiles, this playful lopsided grin that makes just one of his dimples pop out, and just when I think I’m about to melt into a puddle and let his hands fulfil all the promises he just made, he hands me a pool cue with a taunt of, “Your break, baby girl” before sauntering off toward the bar.

  I take aim at the white, imagining that cocky self-assured smile he gave me, and the table explodes with the thundering crack of scattering balls. Three find a home in the corner pocket. Elijah turns and cants his head to the side with a questioning look. I fold my arms in front of my chest, pushing my boobs up a little, marvelling at how easy it is to gain his undivided attention. I give my best attempt at a lopsided grin, like the one he shot me seconds ago. “You’re gonna regret playing me, Cade. I’m gonna eat you for breakfast.”

  “Keep looking like that, baby girl, and I’ll let you eat me for dessert, too.”

  My mouth drops open into a surprised little “O” and he chuckles and wanders off to get our drinks.

  Once Elijah returns we begin the first of many games, all of which I win—and I’m almost 100 per cent certain he’s not holding back on me. In fact, he’s seems to be trying his best to unnerve me with every shot I make, but two can play at that game and it isn’t long before he’s losing the battle of wills and wits.

  “So, where’s Mummy and Daddy tonight, Ana Belle?” Elijah asks as he breaks on our eighth game.

  “Out at another club meet, and please tell me you didn’t just call the dragon lady my mother?”

  His lips tip up into a crooked smile that forces just one of his dimples to pop out. “I don’t know, I can see a little bit of a family resemblance there.”

  “I will hurt you, Cade.” I lean over the table and take my next shot. My boobs are spilling out of my top and I take a moment to readjust before I have a complete wardrobe malfunction—à la Tara Reid. When I glance up, I find Elijah eyeing me like prey. His gaze clouds over with lust, but there’s something darker hiding there, too. I haven’t a clue what it is, but it makes me want to run and throw myself at his mercy, all at once.

  “I don’t doubt that for a second, baby girl.”

  I sink another ball into the side pocket and try to pretend he doesn’t unnerve me. “What about you? Did you leave a string of heartbroken girlfriends back in ... where did you say you were from again?”

  “Sydney.”

  Sydney. Wow. That only narrows it down to around 12,000 km². Give or take.

  Elijah takes aim at a ball that’s perfectly aligned to slide into the pocket, but he slams the cue against it with a loud crack. It ricochets off the cushion and sinks two of my balls as it slips into the pocket. “Nope. Don’t do girlfriends.”

  “Oh,” I mutter, feeling disappointment surge through me.

  He’s not exactly forthcoming.

  A commotion from the pub’s entrance makes me miss my next shot. Elijah glances between me and the group of guys that just walked in. I don’t have to look to know that Scott and his posse of tools just arrived, and that they’re headed straight for us.

  One of the reasons I was so anxious about coming here is because I know that this is where he and his collection of dickhead friends usually hang out on a Friday night. Between our awkward arrival and having so much fun whooping Elijah’s bum, I guess I forgot to be concerned.

  I feel Elijah watching me and, the closer Scott’s group drifts, the more anxious I get. He leans in and his warm breath skates the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Take the shot again, Ana, and this time forget about the room around you.”

  I nod, lean over and sink my last ball before the eight. Just as I’m raising myself up off the table I see a hand place a coin against the top rail. By now, our previous coins have vanished, eaten by the table in our pursuit of beating one another.

  I look up into pale blue eyes. Scott winks at me, already guessing correctly that I’m the one winning this game, meaning his coin ensures he gets to play me next. It wouldn’t matter, I’ve beaten him every time the two of us have ever played, but he’s doing it to mess with my head—and, unfortunately, it’s working.

  “Hey, Blondie.” Scott uses his stupid pet name for me, the one I always hated. His eyes slide over me from head to toe and I have to supress the urge to shudder. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “No, you haven’t,” I reply harshly. I don’t add the part I’m really thinking, though. Not since the night I turned you down and you called me a cock-blocker and dumped me for a girl who would “put out”, then spent the last few weeks of our final year of school telling everyone I was a slut who banged yo
u and three of your friends.

  I feel Elijah behind me. He slips his arm around my waist and playfully whispers in my ear, just loud enough for the room to hear, “You’re making me crazy in this outfit, baby.” Then he stops nuzzling my neck and nods his head in Scott’s direction. “Who’s this?”

  I don’t know who’s more stunned, Scott or me?

  Still, I’m not stupid enough to not take the boon Elijah is offering. The fact that he’s deliberately marking his territory by wrapping me in his arms and calling me baby in front of a boy I trusted who broke my heart, even if it is mostly for show, sends a thrill through me, and I can’t help but snuggle into him when I say, “Oh, no one. Just some guys I knew in school.”

  Scott’s eyes narrow and he thrusts his hand out in front of Elijah, who has no choice but to step away from me if he wants to shake it. “Scott Turner.”

  Elijah shakes but doesn’t offer his name.

  “Nice ink man,” Scott says in a voice like he thinks it’s anything but. He raises his brow and adds, “Did you get those in Juvie?”

  Elijah smiles, “A few of them, yeah.”

  Scott smiles too, only it’s smug, like he was just trying to prove a point and is delighted to be right. Elijah cocks his head to the side and looks thoughtful for a moment before pointing to the tattoo that is playing peekaboo with his shirt collar. “Though this one was done in a maximum security joint just outside of Sydney.”

  Scott baulks a little. His friends, who’d been whispering and muttering oooohs and ahhhhs like the childish morons they are all fall silent. I glance at Elijah, wondering if that’s true. It can’t be. Though I guess it wouldn’t be the first time my dad gave an ex-con a job. True or not, I decide that right now, I don’t care. I’m just so thankful for Elijah’s presence and the fact that he’s not fazed by an idiot like Scott.

  “’Scuse us a sec, boys.” Elijah takes my hand and leads me into the hall, which is kind of pointless, considering there’s a direct line of sight from the poolroom to where we’re standing. Dissatisfied with the scene he’s making by dragging me away he pens me in against the wall. His face is oddly serious when he asks, “Goldilocks in there, did he screw you over?”

 

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