Chapter Sixteen #2
Talon’s going to want it steadier under hard braking.
Reign will probably complain about the rear end before he’s even finished his first run.
And Revel will tell me something “feels weird” until I threaten him into using actual words.
That part feels normal.
Everything around it doesn’t.
Officials keep coming through. Sponsor reps are everywhere. Every change needs to be written down. People keep asking questions while I’m trying to work.
Then there are the cameras.
I’m bent over Wolfe’s bike checking the suspension when a photographer crouches near the bay and starts snapping pictures.
A flash goes off right beside me.
I look up. “Seriously?”
He lowers the camera. “Just getting some prep shots.”
“Cool. Maybe without the flash in my face?”
He winces. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Thanks.”
I go straight back to the bike.
Wolfe is sitting on a stool nearby while I work, and he hides a laugh behind his fist.
I point my wrench at him. “Don’t even start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you were about to.”
“I was going to say you’re handling this beautifully.”
“Liar.”
“I mean, it was a little aggressive, wa?yé?a.”
The familiar word settles something inside me. Not enough to kill the nerves completely, but enough that I finally take a proper breath before turning back to the bike.
“You still haven’t told me what that means.”
Wolfe goes quiet.
When I look over, he’s watching me with that soft expression he gets when he’s about to say something that’ll make me regret having feelings.
He pushes away from the bench and comes over.
Even after everything, looking at him up close still catches me sometimes.
Messy blond hair falling over his forehead, stupidly pretty eyes, sharp jaw covered in just enough scruff to make him look less polished than he actually is.
He’s got that effortless thing about him, like he could roll out of bed looking annoyingly good and not even realize it.
He crouches beside me, bringing himself level with where I’m sitting near the bike.
Then his fingers curl gently beneath my chin.
My brain immediately forgets whatever the fuck I was doing.
“What?” I ask.
His thumb brushes lightly along my jaw. “Wa?yé?a.”
“Yeah. That.”
“It means firefly.”
I blink.
Of all the things I expected, that wasn’t one of them.
“Firefly?”
He nods.
“Why?”
Wolfe smiles a little, eyes staying on mine.
“Because you showed up when everything around here was pretty fucking dark.”
Well, fuck me.
He keeps going before I can recover.
“You’re small, loud, impossible to ignore.” His smile deepens when I narrow my eyes. “And you somehow manage to light up every room you walk into, even when you’re pissed off at everyone in it.”
“That started sweet and got insulting really fast.”
“It wasn’t an insult.”
“You called me small and loud.”
“You are small and loud.”
“I can still hit you from here.”
“I know.”
His thumb brushes my chin again.
“But you’re also bright. You don’t even realize you’re doing it half the time. You just show up and everything feels different.”
My chest goes tight in that uncomfortable, warm way I’m still getting used to. Nobody’s ever compared me to something soft before.
Complicated. Difficult. Too much.
Those I know.
Firefly?
That one gets me.
I swallow. “That’s disgustingly romantic.”
Wolfe grins. “You asked.”
“You know, I’m really starting to regret it.”
“No, you’re not.”
I stare at him and his eyes drop to my mouth.
Mine do the same.
“Cocky Canadian,” I mumble.
He laughs softly and leans in.
The kiss is nothing like the mess we usually make of each other.
It’s slow and warm.
His hand slides from my chin to the side of my neck while mine catches lightly in the front of his shirt.
He kisses me once, then again, softer the second time, and for a few seconds I forget there are people moving around us, bikes everywhere, an entire fucking international race happening outside.
Suddenly, a throat clears behind Wolfe and we break apart. Draygon is standing a few feet away with his arms crossed.
His eyes move from Wolfe to me. Then back to Wolfe.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Yes,” I say.
Wolfe says, “No.”
I look at him, shoving his chest playfully. “Traitor.”
Draygon’s mouth twitches.
Then Andre appears behind him, looking exhausted enough that I’m surprised he hasn’t physically thrown half the team into bed yet.
“That’s it for today.”
I glance at the bike. “I still need to finish—”
“Tomorrow.”
“But I’ve only got—”
“Echo.”
That tone.
I stop.
Andre gestures around the setup. “You’ve been awake since before the airport, you’ve crossed an ocean, and you’ve spent the last few hours buried in these bikes. They’ll still be here in the morning.”
I look down at my notes, even knowing he’s right, which is annoying.
Andre turns to the rest of the crew. “Everybody back to the house. Get some grub. Shower, you need it, and get a decent night sleep. I want everyone back out here at six am sharp.” Then he looks at Wolfe. “Need you for a minute, Fields.”
Wolfe glances at me before standing.
“You good?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He leans down and presses one more quick kiss to my forehead before following Andre away.
I watch him go for maybe half a second too long.
“Enjoying the view?”
Draygon.
I look over, and smirk.
He’s standing beside me now, hands in his jacket pockets, dark eyes amused.
“I was thinking.”
“About Wolfe’s ass?”
I snort. “Maybe.”
“Good to know.”
“You jealous?”
He steps closer.
“Absolutely.”
That shouldn’t be hot, but unfortunately, it very much is.
His gaze drags slowly over my face, then lower for just a second before coming back. Heat creeps into my cheeks.
Fantastic.
We head back toward the house, the air colder now, clouds sitting heavy over the trees. A few drops of rain start hitting my face before we make it inside.
Draygon opens the front door and waits for me to step through first.
The place is even nicer inside.
Old wood floors. Dark beams across the ceiling. Stone walls in places, big windows looking out over the trees, and enough little hallways branching off everywhere that I’m definitely going to get lost at least once.
Draygon steps in beside me.
“Come on. I’ll show you the room I grabbed for you.”
Before I can answer, he takes my hand.
Just does it.
Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
His fingers lace through mine and he starts toward the stairs, pulling me with him.
I look down at our hands for half a second.
Okay then.
The staircase curves up through the middle of the house, old wood under our feet, framed paintings lining the walls. Everything smells faintly like rain, old stone and whatever wood they’ve got burning somewhere deeper in the house.
We pass the first landing, then keep going to the second floor.
There’s a long hallway up here with rooms on both sides, tall windows at the far end showing nothing but gray sky and trees bending slightly in the wind.
Draygon slows near one of the doors.
“Revel’s there,” he says, nodding toward the room on one side. “Mine’s on the other.”
I look at him.
He doesn’t even pretend that was accidental.
Then he opens the door between them.
“This one’s yours.”
I step inside.
My bags are already sitting on the bed where he left them earlier.
The room is huge. Old wooden floors, a big bed pushed against one wall, thick curtains framing tall windows, and a small fireplace across from it. Through the glass, I can see the trees stretching down toward the water.
“Okay,” I say, looking around. “You did good.”
Draygon follows, closes it behind him, and turns the lock. The click cuts through the room, suddenly making everything feel real.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
Then he crosses the space between us.
His hand slides around the back of my neck before his mouth comes down on mine. The kiss isn’t careful. It carries every text, every near miss, and every look he’s given me since the night we met in that bar.
My fingers fist in the front of his jacket as he guides me backward until my shoulders meet the wall beside the door. His body settles close without crushing me, solid and warm enough to make the rest of the room disappear.
He kisses me again, slower this time, and the shift is somehow worse.
There’s no rush to hide behind now. His hand remains at my neck while the other moves over my waist, learning me through my clothes with an attention that makes every pass feel deliberate.
I pull at his jacket. “Take this off.”
His mouth curves. “Take it off me, pretty girl.”
I tug at the sleeves, and he helps, shrugging the jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. His shirt is next, lifted over his head and discarded somewhere. My hands find his chest immediately, feeling the heat and ink covered muscle. His heart is beating faster than his calm expression suggests.
That knowledge makes me bolder.
I drag my nails lightly down his chest, and his jaw tightens.
His hands close around my hips, and a startled laugh slips out when he lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist automatically, arms hooking around his shoulders as he carries me farther into the room.
He kisses me again before setting me against the wall beside the bed.
Harder this time.
Hungrier.
His mouth drags from mine to my jaw, then lower, and my head tips back before I can stop it. His hands slide beneath my shirt, rough fingertips moving over my waist and leaving heat everywhere they touch.
A shiver runs through me.
Draygon stills for half a second.
Then his mouth brushes the skin beneath my ear.
“My turn now.”
My fingers tighten against his shoulders.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, dark eyes fixed on mine.
“I’ve watched you with Wolfe.” His thumb presses slowly into my waist. “Watched you with Thorne.”
There’s no anger in his voice.
Just that quiet edge of jealousy he hasn’t bothered hiding tonight.
“And now?”
His gaze drops to my mouth.
“Now I get you.”
Fuck.
He lifts my shirt slowly, making me raise my arms before pulling it over my head and tossing it aside.
His eyes move over me, taking his time.
Not shy about it.
Not trying to hide how badly he wants me.