Chapter 1
Xavier
The evening air rushed past, warm for early summer, but refreshing through my helmet’s open vents.
Milo’s taillight glowed ahead as we carved through the back streets.
There was no destination, only the familiar ritual of cruising around town until something interesting happened.
I downshifted, and the bike responded beneath me, stopping alongside Milo at a red light.
He turned to me and tapped his stomach in our signal for food.
Milo was always hungry. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had enough growing up.
We ended up at the convenience store on the frontage road, where the coffee was always burnt but they never hassled us about loitering.
I was antsy and waited outside while Milo went to get our food.
I leaned against my Kawasaki, stretching my legs.
The bike was still warm beneath my hand as I ran my palm over the tank, checking for scratches I knew weren’t there.
I treated my Ninja better than I treated myself.
“Catch.” Milo tossed me an energy drink, already sipping from his. His broad shoulders stretched his riding jacket, and his helmet hair stuck up in tufts, making him look younger than twenty-five. “Got you your candy, too.”
“Thanks.” I cracked open the drink, letting the sickly sweet smell hit my nostrils. It tasted like chemicals and regret, but it would keep me awake for the ride. I’d had a morning shift at the diner and had been up since before dawn.
Milo leaned back against his Honda, scrolling through his phone with one hand and holding a questionable hot dog in the other. His face lit up, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“X, you gotta see this.” He turned his phone toward me, showing a TikTok of two guys on motorcycles parked outside a big bookstore. The caption read: “Spawn camping for book babes.”
I snorted. “That’s some desperate shit.”
“It’s fucking genius, is what it is.” Milo laughed, taking his phone back. “Look at the comments. The romance book community ladies are going feral for them. Book babes and bikers, the perfect mix.”
“Since when do you care about girls who read?” I asked, finishing my drink in one long gulp that burned all the way down.
“I wouldn’t mind a man. I’m not picky,” Milo said, winking. He looked down at his phone. “Ooh, it’s a romance bookstore. These are romance book lovers.”
“So?”
“So some of those books are filthy. Someone who reads filthy sex books must be ten times hornier. And we’re here to make sure that every single one of them gets their fantasy fuck.”
I rubbed my forehead. “You’re losing your goddamn mind.”
“Could be.” Milo’s eyes gleamed with that look he got whenever he had a terrible idea. “But it’ll make great content.”
“Right. Because your TikTok has, what, ten followers?”
“Twelve, actually.” Milo wasn’t offended by my teasing.
“One’s your mom. You can’t count her.”
“Why not? She says I’m funny.” He crushed his empty can against his thigh, tossing it and the hotdog wrapper into the trash bin.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face.
Milo’s relationship with his mom was warm, supportive, and uncomplicated.
When we first met, I’d been jealous of that, but soon enough, Mary Kwon was fussing over me as much as she fussed over Milo and his sister.
“You’ve made so much content, though. It seems like a lot of work for ten people. ”
“We just need the right video to go viral. I have faith,” he said. “Then it’ll trickle back to all the content I’ve spent the past six months building up.”
“Ah,” I said, eying him. My best friend was the sort of daydreamer who bought lottery tickets and entered contests, sure he could figure out a way to set us up for life.
His way of taking care of me, I suspected.
“It’s a strategy! We just need something with a good hook to pull people in, then they’ll check out our profile and see we do some cool content.
Besides, a few videos have reached more people.
The engine rebuild on your Kawasaki has a lot of views. ”
“And book babes are the hook?”
“You never know.” But Milo was already on a mission, searching up bookstores on his phone. “Fuck yeah. Honeybee Books in Old Town closes at nine. We could catch the shots with this epic sunset in the background if we hurry. Aesthetic.”
“Sure. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
“That’s the spirit!” Milo cheerfully tugged on his helmet. “We’re gonna be famous.”
He wasn’t very realistic, as a rule, but I liked that about him. I liked that he had big dreams, that he had plans for us even when I couldn’t bring myself to make them. And when getting out of the hole we were in felt like an impossible climb.
I tugged on my helmet and followed him out of the parking lot and down the busy street towards Old Town, Altavista’s attempt at touristy Colorado charm. A place where people paid fifteen dollars for a sandwich just because the menu used words like “farm to table” and “artisanal.”
Honeybee Books stood on the corner, painted a warm yellow that glowed amber in the fading light. The windows displayed colorful book covers, with little wooden bees hanging from the ceiling.
It was aggressively cute.
“Perfect spot,” Milo declared, parking beside the bookstore, swinging his leg over his bike and digging into his backpack. He pulled out a tripod.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said, staying on my bike.
“What? We need good angles.” He unfolded the tripod and attached his phone, completely unbothered. “I’m going for production value.”
“How long have you been carrying a tripod?”
“Bought it three days ago. When I decided to get serious about posting.”
“I’m keeping my helmet on.” I crossed my arms.
Milo glanced at me, then perked up. “That’s perfect! The guys in the video that inspired me were wearing helmets too. We’ll look mysterious and badass that way.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, then put his helmet back on, giving me a thumbs up.
He was an idiot, but his schemes were a welcome distraction.
“Okay, now look mysterious.” He stepped back to check the frame.
“I’m wearing a full-face helmet with a black visor. How much more mysterious do you want?”
“I don’t know. Lean a little. Like you’re too cool for this place.” He struck a pose that made him look like he’d sprained his back.
“I am too cool for this place.” I shifted my weight, put my hands behind my head, laid back against the pillion, and kicked my feet up on the handlebars like I was ready to nap.
“Perfect!” Milo hit record and jogged over to sit on his bike in a similar position, snapping his visor closed. “Now we wait for the book babes.”
We sat outside Honeybee Books for way too long, watching women leave with their purchases:fancy bookmarks, drinks, and glossy hardcovers. They walked past us without a glance. One even crossed the street when she saw us, pulling her bag closer like we might snatch it.
I couldn’t blame her. We looked like we were casing the joint.
“This is going well,” I deadpanned, slouching deeper against my bike. “We look like thugs. Or psychopaths.” If this video flopped, at least we could grab tacos from that food truck Milo liked before heading home.
The bookstore door swung open again, the little bell above it tinkling faintly. I almost didn’t look up, expecting another woman who would hurry past us like we were invisible. But something made me turn my head.
She stepped out onto the sidewalk, and my throat went dry.
She wasn’t what I’d call hot, not like the overtly sexy women I hooked up with at the biker bars.
She was soft—that was the first word that came to mind.
Her glossy brown hair was twisted up in a messy bun, and her floral sundress floated around her as she walked, teased by the breeze.
She had the kind of curves that would mold against my body, yielding as she pressed against me.
My attention snapped to her book. The cover featured a woman sandwiched between two muscular men, their poses making it obvious the book was smut.
But this girl didn’t look like someone who’d read something so filthy.
Her round glasses and the pencil stuck through her bun gave her a geeky, innocent look that made the book choice seem incongruous.
“Holy shit.” Milo lowered his voice so only I could hear. “That right there is the dream, man. Nerdy hot book babe with actual book porn. Jackpot.”
I snorted, not wanting to admit I was thinking the same thing. But I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
She shifted, trying to balance her book while digging through her bag. The pencil in her bun was slipping. She reached up to shove it back in, only succeeding in loosening the whole thing. Her hair cascaded down around her shoulders, shiny and wavy and fucking perfect.
I swallowed hard. It was just hair. But something about the absent-minded, unselfconscious way she shook it out drew me in.
She ran her fingers through her hair once, twice, gathering it back up. I tracked the motion of her hands, the way a few strands escaped to frame her face, the small frown of concentration that creased her forehead.
“Fuck, she’s like a walking shampoo commercial. Sexy,” Milo said.
I didn’t answer because she glanced our way. Maybe she’d heard Milo’s whisper or just registered our presence. Either way, her eyes passed over us with mild curiosity.
Our gazes connected through my helmet visor, and heat flickered in my core, low and insistent.
The moment lasted only seconds before she looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She slipped the book into her bag, readjusted her glasses, and continued down the sidewalk as if she hadn’t just shaken my world.
Her steps were unhurried and distracted.
She opened her book and started reading as she walked.
“Wonder what that book was.”
“Who knows.” That was a lie. The cover image was burned into my memory: two men and one woman. The cute, wholesome girl who looked like she’d stepped out of a sweet small town romance was reading about a girl getting double-teamed.