Chapter Eight
Revel
Cece keeps calling it a one-time thing.
Which is kind of adorable, honestly.
I let her have the little speech because correcting her too soon would ruin the fun of this little game we’re playing.
After the other night, I know she needs time to convince herself she’s in control.
So I’ll let her ignore me for a couple days, threaten my life in the group chat as usual, maybe act like sleeping with me fixed whatever problem she thinks I am.
But we both know it didn’t.
If anything, she made it worse.
Now that she knows how good I can make her feel, all it’s going to take is one look. One second of her eyes dropping to my mouth, one bad decision after midnight, and that whole one-time rule is going straight in the fucking trash.
Where it can stay as far as I’m concerned.
Shit, I’ve jerked off thinking about her in my bed four times since that night.
Four.
And honestly, that number feels pretty fucking conservative considering how bad I want her.
I can’t stop picturing the way her hair spread across my pillow, those legs wrapped around me, and the look in her pretty brown eyes when she finally stopped pretending she didn’t want me.
That shit has been stuck in my head on repeat, and apparently my right hand is working overtime because Cece wants to play hard to get after I already had her.
The worst part is remembering standing over her with that condom in my hand.
I put it on because I’m not a complete fucking asshole, but every part of me hated it. I didn’t want anything between us. I wanted to feel her raw, bury myself inside her, and fill her until she had no choice but to remember exactly who put it there.
And getting her pregnant?
That should probably scare the shit out of me.
Doesn’t.
Fuck, I like the idea way too much.
Cece with my baby growing inside her, belly swollen, still mouthy as hell and threatening to break my fingers every time I touch her. Mine in a way she couldn’t laugh off or call a one-time thing.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Just thinking about it has my cock hard while I’m standing in a garage surrounded by the guys, which is really not ideal.
That whole night has been playing in my head on repeat, and my right hand has been doing overtime because Cece decided to play hard to get after I already know exactly how badly she wants me.
Mean little thing.
Hot as fuck, though.
And completely fucking worth it.
Which is exactly why I refuse to believe that one-time bullshit. Cece can say it as many times as she wants, but sooner or later she’s going to crack, and I’ll have her right where I want her again.
Fuck, I’m already counting down.
“Revel.”
I blink and realize Talon has been talking to me.
He’s standing on the other side of the workbench with a wrench in one hand and the same annoyed expression he wears for basically everything.
“What?”
His eyes narrow. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Yeah.”
“What did I say?”
I look down at the brake caliper in front of me, buying time. “Something about the bike.”
“Great. Incredible recall.”
Sayshen laughs from where he’s crouched beside his own. “Dude hasn’t heard a fucking word in ten minutes.”
“I’m focused.”
“You’ve been staring at the same bolt like it holds the secret map to get in Cece’s pants,” Talon says.
I glance at it.
He’s not wrong. I’ve had the wrench against it for so long my hand is starting to cramp, but I haven’t turned the damn thing once. Little does he know I’ve already been there and I got that roadway fucking memorized.
Because instead of working, I’ve been thinking about Cece.
Again.
I finally turn the wrench. “I’m multitasking.”
“Thinking and working?” Thorne asks from behind Echo’s bike. “Careful, mate. Might pull a fuckin’ muscle.”
“Piss off,” I reply, grabbing a grease coated rag and tossing it at his head. “See?” I point the wrench at Talon. “I’m listening now.”
“Yeah, to the British boy band mascot, not me.”
“Still fucking counts.”
The garage is louder than usual today. The bay doors are open, letting in thick afternoon heat and the sound of somebody testing an engine outside. Tools cover both benches, spare fairings lean against the wall, and half the team is spread across the floor getting everything ready for next weekend.
Their race next weekend.
Not mine.
Andre followed through on his threat and suspended me for one event. I argued for maybe thirty seconds before he reminded me I’d nearly taken Ajax and myself into a wall after he specifically told me not to force the pass.
Still worth the win.
Also worth the slap from Cece that somehow ended with her in my bed and me learning getting hit can have a pretty fucking great payoff.
Apparently, none of that was Andre’s point.
So now I get to help everyone else prep while they remind me every ten minutes that I’m not riding.
A beautiful lesson in humility.
Fuck humility.
Echo rolls out from beneath her bike and sits up, pushing loose hair away from her face with the back of her wrist. “Can someone pass me the ten millimeter?”
Draygon finds it first and drops it into her hand. Then, because, apparently, handing over a wrench isn’t enough, he catches her by the jaw and kisses her.
Not some quick little peck either.
He tugs lightly on her bottom lip before letting her go, leaving her cheeks pink and her looking way too pleased for someone covered in grease.
Thorne stares at them like Draygon just stole his last meal. “Bruv, I was literally about to do that.”
“You were looking in the wrong drawer,” Echo says, glancing over at him. “But I’ll happily give you a kiss too if you’re feeling left out.”
“Oi, don’t gotta tell me twice.”
He drops his pencil and gets off the stool so fast his sketchbook nearly slides onto the floor.
He’s been working on some manga-style poster Andre thinks would be good for promo. Not the usual team shot either. No leathers, no staged paddock bullshit. Just all of us riding together on the open road, because apparently the point is to show we’re family on and off the track.
In life and in death.
Thorne thinks the fans will eat that shit up.
He’s probably right.
Thorne finally pulls away from Echo looking way too pleased with himself, then drops back onto the stool and reaches for his sketchbook like he didn’t just abandon it at record speed for a kiss.
Draygon only smirks, grabs Echo’s water bottle, and sets it closer to where she can reach it before going back to the bike.
The way the three of them move around each other should probably look complicated.
It doesn’t.
They just know where they fit.
Must be fucking nice.
I glance down at my phone on the bench.
Still nothing from Cece.
Whatever. She’ll come around.
I pull my shirt over my head, toss it beside my phone, and crouch back down by my bike.
“Yo, Echo, when are you girls leaving for Miami?” I ask.
Echo looks over at me. “What?”
“For Cece’s set. I figured she’d ask you girls to go with her since the guy said she was responsible for her own set up.”
“Yeah, she did, but we have a race, Revel.”
“I know.”
“And I’m racing in it.”
“Right.” I tighten the bolt in front of me. “Obviously.”
Sayshen glances up from his bike. “Bex can’t go either. She’s got some massive exam to study for, and she’s been stressing herself sick because she feels like shit about missing it.”
“What about Lena?”
Across the garage, Reign unwraps another protein bar because apparently the man needs a scheduled snack break from standing around looking pretty.
“Nah, she’s got a rehab release with the rescue.
One of the dolphins she’s been working with is finally going back out and she’s leading the release team. ”
I stop turning the wrench. “So none of you are going?”
Echo shakes her head. “We already told her, she was cool about it, she doesn’t want us to miss anything and this set was last minute so not much we can do.”
“Then who the fuck is going with her?”
Talon shrugs. “Bex said Cece might ask her cousins.”
“Her cousins?”
“Yeah.”
“Which cousins?”
“I don’t fucking know, Revel. Her cousins,” Talon adds with annoyance.
“Are they useful?”
Thorne snorts. “What kind of question is that, mate?”
“A normal one.”
“No, it ain’t.”
I look around at all of them. “Does anyone know if they understand her setup? Can they lift anything? Show up on time? Or are we talking about two random assholes who’ll roll in hungover, lose half her cables, and call that helping?”
The garage gets quiet.
Not completely.
There’s still music coming from the speaker and a bike running outside, but every person close enough to hear me has stopped what they’re doing.
Talon looks at Sayshen.
Sayshen looks at Thorne.
“What?” I ask, lifting the wrench.
Sayshen’s mouth starts to curve as he wipes his hands on a rag. “Nothing.”
“That is not a nothing face.”
“You just asked for the fucking employment history of Cece’s cousins.”
“No, I asked if they’re useful.”
Talon lets out a dry laugh and turns back to the parts spread across the bench.
Sayshen shakes his head, still grinning as he crouches beside his bike again. Thorne snorts and drops his eyes back to the sketchbook in his lap, while Echo slides underneath her bike like she wants no part of whatever the fuck is wrong with me.
Her cousins.
Yeah, no.
Fuck that.
I don’t know shit about DJ equipment, but I can carry the heavy stuff, fix her car when it inevitably decides to die again, and make sure no thirsty promoter gets confused about whose girl she is.
Basically, I’m useful as fuck.
And more importantly, it’s Miami.
Just me and Cece, away from this nosy-ass crew, with a whole weekend to prove one time was never going to be enough. No audience, no excuses, and nowhere for her to hide behind that this means nothing bullshit.
Fuck yes.
I’m suspended, I’ve got nowhere else to be, and somehow Andre’s punishment just handed me the perfect chance to show her this is real, even if she fights me every damn step of the way.
She can keep pretending for now.
She can’t fight it forever.
I grab my phone.
Looks like Cece just got herself a plus-one.
Me: I’m going to Miami with you.
I hit send.
Thorne leans sideways on his stool, trying to get a look at my screen without being subtle about it. I turn the phone toward my chest before he can read anything.
“Who you textin’, then?” he asks, pencil still tucked behind one ear.
“Your mom.”
He gives me a flat look. “Proper original, mate. You been savin’ that one all day?”
“Yeah, actually. Glad I finally found the right moment.”
Sayshen laughs from where he’s crouched beside his bike. “That’s Cece, isn’t it?”
I glance at him. “You guys ever think about getting hobbies that don’t involve watching me?”
“No,” Talon says from across the bench, not even looking up. “This is way more entertaining.”
Thorne grins and taps the end of his pencil against the sketchbook. “Lavender hair’s got you proper fucked, bruv. Girl threatens to flatten you every other day and you still sit there cheesin’ at your phone.”
“She likes me.”
“She wants to run you over,” Sayshen says.
“Same thing with Cece.”
Talon finally looks up, one brow raised. “You can turn literally anything into encouragement.”
“It’s called confidence.”
“It’s called delusion,” Thorne says.
I shrug. “Close enough.”
They go back to what they’re doing, still laughing like my love life is somehow today’s main event. I set my phone face down on the bench and return to the caliper, or at least make it look like I do.
She’ll argue.
Obviously.
She’ll tell me she never asked me to go, and I’ll remind her I wasn’t asking. Then she’ll call me something in Spanish that sounds sexy as fuck even though it probably means diseased asshole.
Normal shit.
The phone buzzes.
I grab it a little too fast.
Talon catches the movement and smirks.
I ignore him and open the message.
Cece: Okay.
I stare at the word.
That’s it.
No argument or threat. Not even a who the fuck invited you?
Just okay.
Me: Wow. That was easy.
Cece: Don’t get excited. I need someone to carry shit.
Me: So you do need me.
Cece: I need your arms. The rest of you is optional.
Me: Knew you were obsessed with my body.
Cece: Ay, cállate. Don’t make me regret this before we even leave.
Me: Too late. I’m already looking at hotels.
Cece: Who tf said anything about sharing a hotel?
Me: Nobody. Yet.
Cece: Revel.
Me: Relax, mama. What time am I picking you up?
Cece: You’re not. We’re taking my car. It’s already loaded so you can meet me at my place.
Me: Your car? Bold choice, not sure it will make it there.
Cece: You changed one battery and suddenly you’re AAA.
Me: Just saying, good thing you’re bringing a hot mechanic.
Cece: You’re bringing coffee and carrying speakers. That’s your entire job.
Me: Damn. No road head?
Cece: Choke.
Me: That’s not a no.
Cece: Friday. Six a.m. Be ready or I’m leaving your ass.
Me: You’d come back.
Cece: No, I’d send you a picture of me in the tiniest bikini from Miami.
Me: Now that is just cruel.
Cece: Bring my coffee.
Me: And breakfast?
Cece: Obviously.
Me: Look at you already ordering your man around.
Cece: You are not my man.
Me: Keep practicing. Almost sounded convincing.
Cece: Puta madre. Six o’clock, cabrón.
Me: Can’t wait.
Cece: I can.
Me: Liar. See you Friday, mami.
Cece: I hate you.
Me: Pack extra panties.
Cece: GET FUCKED.
I lock my phone, grinning like an idiot.
Miami. Just me and Cece in her little death-trap car, arguing for four hours while she pretends she isn’t excited I’m coming.
Fuck yes.
She can call me hired muscle all she wants but by the end of the weekend, she’s going to know one time didn’t get me out of her system.
It only made the problem worse.
For once, getting suspended feels like a fucking reward.