by Doyle, Dawn
There were three beeps, then nothing. I stared at my phone, then put it in my pocket. “Quinn’s on his way, I think,” I sighed.
“You have Quinn’s number,” Miley said, her tone accusatory.
I turned my head to the side, regarding her. “So?”
Before Miley could answer, a huge body cast a shadow over her features, capturing her attention. “Hey, Quinn,” she greeted him, her delighted expression catching me off guard.
I spun around and tilted my head back to see him staring down at me. “That was quick.” I took him in, all six-feet-and-a-few-toes towering over me, his presence commanding, even with the black eye, bruised cheek, and cut eyebrow, all on the left side of his face. His lips were split free, but there was darkening around his jaw.
“I was around,” he said, then jerked his head toward my car. “Leave it here—I’ll take you home.” He smirked. “When you’ve finished staring at me.”
Miley’s face bounced between the two of us.
“Get over yourself,” I blew out, rolling my eyes.
Quinn’s low laugh sent a shiver down my spine, and it seemed like it did for the others around us who’d gotten a helluva lot closer than before.
Huh.
He lifted his hand, and I saw he was carrying his helmet. “Safety first, right?” He turned around and led me to a different part of the lot, the people around us parting to let him through.
“Um, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Miley asked, teetering along with us.
“Sure.”
Quinn handed me the helmet, and once I’d put it on, he got to work on adjusting the straps under my chin. His close proximity, his clean smell, and body heat all mixed in had my heart thundering in my chest, and my lungs tightening.
“Stop holding your breath,” Quinn whispered.
I blew out quicker than I’d intended, making me sound like a deflating balloon. His mouth tightened, then he dropped his hands. He kicked his leg over the bike and jerked his chin for me to get on.
“Not too tight,” he said over his shoulder after I got on. “I need to breathe too.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, my voice muffled. I loosened my grip around his hard body, just enough that I wasn’t squeezing the life out of him, literally.
Without another word, he started the bike and rode out of the campus parking lot with our audience watching in fascination.
Chapter 7
Quinn
I pulled up outside Kinsley’s house, her mom’s car gone. I needed to know what the fuck had happened and who was responsible for slashing her tire.
I had an idea, but without proof, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Kinsley got off the bike, her warm hands sliding against me as she slipped her leg over the seat, making my body tense and my cock to stir. She took off the helmet but didn’t hand it over. “Thanks, Quinn, again.”
“What happened?” I didn’t want to dance around with gratitude and shit; I wanted to know what she knew.
“I don’t know. I came out and saw Miley standing there with some others.” She continued to tell me the details, right up until she called.
“Anybody got anything against you?” I asked, but I already knew the answer to that. Well, my answer, not hers.
“Only one person springs to mind,” she said, rocking on her heels. She wouldn’t look at me. Instead, she looked anywhere, but.
“I’ll be gone in a minute,” I snapped. “No need to worry about who sees us together.” I was tired of the bullshit of judgmental fuckers who assumed to know me.
Kinsley’s green eyes flew to mine, her head lifting up. “Why would I care about who sees you?” Her face flamed, her top lip curling up as she spoke. “Do you think I give a shit?”
I leaned on my handlebars, my engine still ticking over. “Don’t you?”
“No!”
“Hm.” I relaxed back, slouching where I sat, my foot planted flat on the ground. “You care about your mom seeing me here, though.”
The cute blush to her cheeks intensified. “She was a little… Upset.” She looked away again, which pissed me off. “My uncle—” she blurted out, then stopped herself.
“Just say it, for fuck’s sake,” I said, my tone laced with boredom.
Her expression darkened, but her eyes glistened with tears. “He was killed. He was riding his motorcycle when a guy pulled out on him. He died at the scene.”
I dropped my head, shame covering me, and had my arms flinching at my sides. I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted to do, but seeing Kinsley upset again did some weird shit to my head. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Is that why your mom was mad at you?”
Kinsley nodded. “Do you want to come inside?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Her brows pumped once with attitude.
“Just okay?”
“Yeah, why not?”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s not the reaction I was expecting.” I thought I’d get some snark, a catty response like, ‘well, thanks for the ride, now fuck off.’
“I’m not asking you in for ‘coffee,’” she said, lifting her fingers for emphasis. “I just thought that if you’re going to grill me about my mother, then I’d rather you do it inside where the neighbors can’t eavesdrop on my business.”
I held my hands out for my helmet, and Kinsley handed it over without another word. She turned and walked toward the white front door and stopped to unlock it.
“Milk, no sugar,” I said behind her, and she jumped, making me laugh.
Her hand flew to her chest, right on top of the navy-blue jacket she had zipped up. “Jesus, you scared me, you idiot.”
The laugh died in my throat when I saw she was deadly serious. “Not my intention.”
Kinsley mumbled under her breath as she opened the door to a white hallway with dark, wooden flooring. The staircase to the left was covered in a deep-red carpet, winding to the right at the top, and circling overhead like a balcony, leaving the high ceiling exposed with a crystal drop type light dangling down.
She placed her keys in a bowl on the narrow wooden unit. “Kitchen’s this way,” she said, and I followed close behind through another white door and into an open-plan space. “Take a seat.” Kinsley gestured to a rectangular table, a gray marble top surrounded by six black fabric chairs.
I pulled one out and sat down, finding it more comfortable than it looked. As Kinsley got to work on the coffee maker, I looked around a little more, noticing pictures lining a wall at the other end of the room where a gray L-shaped sofa at against the far end.
A tall plant, maybe a fern—I don’t know—added a bit of color to the plain room, and so did Kinsley.
Her dark-blue jeans contrasted against the stark white of the cupboard doors but looked so much lighter next to the black granite countertop. Tiny silver speckles on the surface caught the light when Kinsley moved, but it wasn’t what I noticed more than anything. It was the defeated posture she had with her back turned to me.
“So, are you gonna tell me?”
Kinsley’s head slowly lifted at the same time she sucked in a long breath. “My mom went ballistic on me,” she began, turning around. My eyes fell to her now unzipped jacket, the V-neck of the white fabric underneath giving just the tiniest hint of cleavage. I snapped them up when she spoke again. “Not only did I come home after midnight when I said I’d be back sooner, but it was on the back of a deathtrap that I’d promised not to ever get on, and with somebody I didn’t know.”
I smiled. “You told her you didn’t know me?”
She folded her arms across her chest, her tits pushing up a little. I fought the urge to take another peek, a natural reaction for any guy sitting near a girl who looked like Kinsley.
“I don’t, so I wasn’t lying. Even when I told her what Phoebe did to me, my mom only honed in on the fact I was on a fucking motorcycle.” Her head fell back, exposing her neck. I licked my lips, my mouth dry. “And not the fact that getting on your bike
was the thing that got me home.”
“She’s your mom,” I said, tearing my eyes away from her and the loose braid draped over her shoulder. “It’s her job to bust your ass over shit that worries her.”
“Does your mom?”
I snapped my jaw shut, grinding my teeth for a few seconds. “My mom’s dead,” I ground out.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” she rushed out. “I didn’t know—”
“It’s fine,” I cut in. “It was a long time ago.” I stood from the chair and grabbed my helmet. “Make sure you park closer to the building in future—the cameras only pick up the first two rows in the lot.” I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall.
“Hey, wait!” she yelled after me. “Where are you going?”
I continued to head to the door. “Home.”
“Okay, well, thanks again,” she called out bitterly. “I guess I owe you one. Or two, now.”
I stopped with my hand on the door and glanced back over my shoulder. “Yeah. I guess you do. Are you prepared to pay your dues?”
“That ridiculous thing you asked me at the beach?” When I said nothing, her arms crossed again. “Even if I say no, do I still need to call you if anything happens?”
My face hardened, along with my jaw and the grip on my helmet. “You’re fucking right, you do.” That wasn’t an option, and if she thought it was, then she was in for a rude awakening.
“And the more you help me, the more I owe you?” I shrugged.
“Looks that way, so you better keep out of trouble, or you might just end up permanently in my debt.”
Kinsley’s head dropped to her chest, a defeated sigh escaping her lips. “Fine.” When she came back up, she looked right at me, holding my stare like I wasn’t standing there with my face beat to shit, and looking like the kind of man a mother warns their daughters about. “But you do know you’re gonna regret it, right? And this stupid idea of yours makes absolutely no sense.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” I walked out of the house and down the path to my motorcycle. Kinsley stood just inside the front door, watching me as I pulled away from the curb and out of her pretty neighborhood with picket fences and Victorian windows on every house, like a magazine for home and garden had puked all over it.
This is going to be interesting.
My mouth slowly curled up. I didn’t know what happened for Kinsley to change her mind, but right then, I didn’t give any fucks at all. All I knew, is that when people began to believe I was off the market, I could fucking breathe a little easier.
This was for show. It was. Yeah. Nothing more, nothing less.
Once I got home, I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and chose a number in my contacts. “Hey, Dan,” I said when he answered. “You busy?”
“I’ll be free in an hour.”
“See you then.”
***
“It wasn’t me!” Phoebe cried. I’d banged on her door until Rachel opened it, and I roared for Phoebe to get her ass out here. Her shocked face morphed into a conniving smirk. “Though I’d like to take the credit for pissing her off, unfortunately, I had nothing to do with this.”
I clenched my fists against the doorframe, trying to get a hold of the inferno raging inside me. “You already dumped her after the movies. Who the fuck does that to another woman?”
Phoebe shrugged, then stepped toward me, her hand reaching for my arm, her fingertips brushing my bicep. I pulled my arm away from her. “I didn’t know she’d walk, Jesus,” she spat. “How fucking stupid is she to not call a cab right away?”
I leaned down toward her face, glaring at her. “The kind that knows she has to be on her fucking guard at all times. With people like you about, can you fucking blame her?”
Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Whatever, she didn’t even know I was going to do that.” She smiled again. “But she got home, right? She called a cab eventually.”
It was my turn to smirk, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “She didn’t,” I said.
“Then how did she get home? She walked all the way?” Phoebe laughed. “Damn, that was one hell of a hike.”
“No, I gave her a ride home.”
Phoebe’s eyes flashed, her mouth screwing up, and her nose wrinkling. “What?”
I shrugged a shoulder, blinking once, long and slow. “Of course. I wouldn’t want my girl to be getting a ride from a stranger.”
“You’re not dating her,” she fired back, sounding more like a statement of fact than a question. “I heard her telling Miley you just butted in on her business to mess with her.”
I stood back, licked my lips and swallowed, all while keeping my face neutral. “Well, things change, princess.” I leaned forward again, crossing my arms over my body. “And if you ever try to fuck with Kinsley again, I’ll fuck with you.”
Phoebe’s face softened, a seductive look in her eyes while she ran her tongue over her bottom lip before drawing it into her mouth. “That’s not much of a threat, because I like the sound of you fucking with me any time and any way you want.”
I snarled. “Trust me, you won’t like this.” I got right up in her face, and she took a step back, her tan face paling. “One. Fucking. Bit,” I spat. I turned to leave, needing to get the fuck away from the hateful bitch.
“You say that now, but you’ll get bored and come running back,” she called out.
I stopped, threw my head back, and laughed. “Back to who? You? I’ve never had anybody to leave in the first place.” I laughed again. “Wow, and I thought Layton was stupid.”
I ignored her incoherent shrieking and left, her voice growing quieter as I crossed the street to my house.
Kinsley
He’s so going to regret this.
I jogged downstairs and into the kitchen, finding my mom sitting at the table, eating breakfast.
“I made you some,” she said, pointing to the space next to her laid out with pancakes, juice, and a steaming cup of fresh coffee.
“Wow, thanks,” I said, sliding into the seat. I tucked into breakfast and started on my juice when my mom handed me a white envelope. “What’s this?”
My mom sipped her coffee, looking at me over the rim. “I have no idea. It was on the floor this morning.”
She eyed me carefully as I took the envelope and tore it open. Tipping it up, I watched as a small note fell into the palm of my hand. There was nothing else inside the envelope.
I opened the note and read it to myself. ‘Walk down the driveway and turn left.’ I froze as a thought slammed into me, taking me by surprise. I shot up out of my seat, almost knocking the chair over, and rushed out of the room, my pulse pounding in my veins.
Oh, God, my mom’s gonna hit the roof.
“Kinsley, what is it?” my mom yelled, the sounds of her chair moving coming right after as she got up to follow me.
I opened the front door, and there, standing in the driveway, was Colby.
I skidded to a halt. “What the?” I moved slowly toward him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
More importantly, how?
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish, his face almost the same color of his burgundy sweater. “I thought you could use a ride this morning,” he offered, looking back to the red coupe at the end of the driveway. “After what happened, I figured you’d need it.”
“Who’s that?” my mom whispered from the doorway.
“This is Colby, he’s in my art class.” I turned back to him. “How did you know this was my house?”
Pink tinged his ears, and he glanced down to his feet for a second and scuffed his brown shoe on the ground. “I kinda asked Phoebe.” When my jaw dropped, he held his hands up. “I know, after what happened, she should be the last person I spoke to, but I figured she knew where you lived and, well,” he gestured to himself, “I thought I could be your ride today.”
A black motorcycle with silver waves on the tank pulled up to the curb. Even though I knew my mom would most likely have an aneury
sm from what I was about to do, I had to take my chances.
Quinn, thank God.
He lifted his visor. “Hey, Kinsley, are you ready?” he asked, not sparing a glance to Colby, who’d turned as white as a sheet. Quinn waved, and my mom’s hand lifted, her face slack as though she didn’t know what the hell was going on.
“Yeah,” I replied and walked back into the house to collect my bag.
“Do not get on that motorcycle,” my mom hissed.
“Please, mom,” I begged. “Right now, I need you to just let me go. You can yell at me later.” Before she could respond, I left, and walked past Colby, speaking to him. “Thanks, but Quinn’s taking me. I appreciate the offer, though, it was sweet of you.” I glanced over my shoulder to see my mom’s stunned face, confusion and disbelief making her mouth open and close like a fish out of water. I widened my eyes, silently asking her to go along with me.
Quinn pulled a helmet from in front of him and held it out to me, identical to his only smaller, and I took it. I cocked my leg over the seat, slipped my arms around his body, and molded myself to his back, hugging his thighs with mine. I molded myself around him, fitting him perfectly.
We arrived at campus, and when Quinn cut the engine, I got off the bike and took off the helmet. “Jesus Christ,” I hissed. “Could you have been any more of a dick?”
He slowly took off his helmet, his dark hair mussed from the movement, and stroked the stubble across his chin. “Come to think of it, yeah. I could’ve been so much more. I’ll make sure I am next time.” He dropped his hand and grinned.
“There’s not going to be a next time,” I spat. “You know how my mom feels about motorcycles, and you completely disrespected that.”
“How do you feel about them?” he asked, ignoring me.
“What? What’s that got to do with this?” I asked, confused. “I made a promise to my mom—”
“Which you’ve broken three times in one week,” he stated.
“No thanks to you,” I retorted.
“Would you have rather I hadn’t stopped the other night?” He asked, folding his arms over the handlebars. “Not to mention, you called me yesterday. And this morning, well…” He gestured over to where my car was still parked. “You didn’t think I’d forgotten about that, did you?”
