Chapter Five
Cece
Revel shows up twenty minutes after my text like he was waiting for an excuse.
I hear the bike before I see him, the low growl rolling up the street until it cuts off in front of my house.
Guacamole lifts his head from the back of the couch and looks toward the window.
“I’ll be back,” I tell him, grabbing my keys from the counter. “And I am definitely not kissing him.”
He blinks at me once, completely unimpressed.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
I head outside and pull the door shut behind me. By the time I reach the driveway, Revel is swinging off his bike beside the curb.
He plants one boot on the pavement, pulls off his gloves, then lifts his helmet free.
His hair is still a little damp beneath it, pushed back messily as he hooks the helmet over the handlebar.
Black swim trunks sit low on his hips, and a fitted black muscle shirt stretches across his chest and shoulders, showing off the full blackout sleeve covering his left arm.
Then he looks at me.
And stops.
Actually stops.
His eyes move slowly from my bare legs to the cream crochet wrap tied around my waist, the one Lena lent me a few weeks ago. The loose weave does absolutely nothing to hide the black bikini underneath, especially the structured top with its thin straps and low-cut center.
My hair is straight for once, falling straight over my shoulders in thick lavender lengths, and the way he stares makes heat crawl up my neck before I can stop it.
For the first time since I met him, Revel looks like he forgot how to run his mouth.
I fold my arms, mostly so he can’t see how much I like that. “You planning on standing there all day, or are you going to fix my car?”
His gaze finally reaches my face. A slow grin pulls at his mouth, but there’s still something almost stunned behind it.
“Well, fuck me, Mama.”
“Sorry, not on the schedule.”
“Give it time.” He picks up the tool bag from beside his bike, still looking me over like he can’t help himself. “You didn’t say you were coming outside dressed like that.”
“It’s a bikini. We’re going to the beach.”
“I know what it is.” His eyes dip again. “I’m just appreciating the fine as fuck details.”
I lean against the car and lift my chin. “You’re late.”
“I got here in twenty minutes.”
“Nineteen would’ve been better.”
“Could’ve been here in ten if you sent me a picture first.”
“And give you time to crash into something? No thanks.”
He laughs, but his stare stays heavy on me as he walks closer. “Aw, so she does care about me.”
“More like I worry about the people you could injure with your distracted driving.” I fold my arms, keeping my tone sweet even as I lift a brow. “Or objects. Didn’t you take out a fence a few days ago?”
“That fence had it coming.”
“Of course it did.”
He steps closer, eyes dragging over me without even trying to hide it.
His gaze finally settles on my mouth.
Puta madre.
Last night hits me all over again when he plants one hand on the hood above my head and crowds into my space. My back presses against the car, his body close enough to make the heat between us feel worse, and then he dips his head until his mouth is barely an inch from mine.
I clear my throat and point toward the engine. “Battery.”
“Right.” His grin says he knows exactly where my mind went. “Wouldn’t want to keep the princess waiting.”
“Call me princess again and I’ll slam the hood on your hands.”
He glances down at them, then back at me. “And ruin the same hands you were so into last night?”
I scoff, even though heat pools low in my stomach. “Please. I barely noticed them.”
“Liar.”
“Delusional.”
He laughs under his breath and finally steps away, opening the tool bag before leaning over the engine. The black muscle shirt pulls tight across his back and shoulders as he reaches in, and I catch myself watching the muscles shift beneath the fabric.
I look away fast.
Ay, cono. It’s a battery. Nothing sexy is happening here.
A regular battery being removed by an extremely annoying man with a very nice back.
And arms.
Never mind.
I pull out my phone and pretend to check the group chat.
There are already twenty-seven new messages.
Most are from Sayshen, complaining about his head pounding yet being stoked to hit the waves.
Reign bragging about not having to do conditioning on Thursday and Lena and Thorne having a chat about the newest Swift song that just came out and how Lena loves it but Thorne thinks it’s a rip off of an old ninety eight degrees song.
I smile before I can stop myself.
Revel glances over. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing involving you, pretty boy.”
“Yet.”
“Do you ever get tired?”
“Of you?” He loosens the battery terminal, then looks at me over his shoulder with that smug-ass grin. “Fuck no.”
“Of chasing something that’s never going to happen.”
He snorts. “Nah, Mami. It’ll happen.”
“Keep dreaming, pretty boy.”
“I do. You’re usually in less clothes.”
I roll my eyes and turn back to my phone before he catches the smile trying to break through.
“You can roll your eyes all you want, mama.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “We both know they’ll make their way back to me.”
“Keep dreaming, papi.”
He laughs under his breath and gets back to work.
Annoyingly, he’s fast. I was fully prepared to stand here and criticize everything he did whilepretending I knew a single fucking thing about changing a battery, but the old one is out, the new one is in, and a few minutes later he’s tightening the last connection like he’s done this shit a hundred times.
“You done already?”
He straightens and wipes his hands on a rag. “Why? Disappointed?”
“Surprised. You usually drag everything out.”
“Only the fun shit.” His eyes move over me again, slow and shameless. “This? Boring as fuck. You on the beach in that bikini, though?” His grin turns filthy. “Yeah, that’s gonna be fun.”
“Ay, por favor. Try not to drool on my engine.”
“Can’t promise shit looking at you like that.”
His eyes drop to my mouth again.
The air changes before I can stop it.
He takes one step closer.
Then another.
I stay where I am, because moving would make it look like I’m affected, and I’m not giving him that satisfaction.
He stops in front of me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back. The heat from his body mixes with the heavy afternoon air, and I catch the clean smell of soap beneath gasoline and salt.
His fingers catch one of the loose ties of the crochet wrap at my waist, brushing over it without actually touching my skin.
Close enough.
“So, you planning on keeping my hoodie forever?” he asks. “Or do I get it back?”
“Maybe I burned it.”
“You definitely didn’t.”
His hand slides from the tie to my hip, settling over the bare strip of skin above my bikini bottoms.
The touch is light, almost testing, but my body reacts like he grabbed me hard. Heat spreads beneath his palm, and my stomach pulls tight before I can stop it.
His eyes lower.
“Cece.”
My name sounds different in his mouth when he says it quietly.
I hate that.
I hate the way it makes me want to lean in.
His thumb brushes against my skin again softly and I see the exact second he decides he’s going to kiss me.
I step back.
His hand falls away.
The smugness doesn’t disappear, but something sharper flashes beneath it.
I button the bottom of my shirt. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Push it,”
His head tilts. “Thought we started last night.”
“Last night didn’t mean anything.”
“Sure didn’t feel like nothing.”
“It was a mistake.”
“Twice?”
I grab the hood and slam it closed harder than necessary. “Yes, twice, okay?”
He watches me for a second, then glances at the car.
“Right, well, battery’s in.”
“Good.”
“Go on and test it.”
I leave him standing by the car and hurry back inside. Guacamole barely looks up when I grab my beach bag from the chair, snatch Revel’s hoodie from the laundry basket, and head straight back out.
He’s still beside the open hood when I walk up and shove the hoodie into his chest.
“There. Happy?”
His hands close around the hoodie, and without breaking eye contact, he lifts it to his nose and breathes me in.
The look in his eyes shifts instantly—darker, heavier, and ay, cono, if it doesn’t send something hot and stupid straight through me.
I shove that shit down fast and pull my usual resting bitch face back into place.
“Knew you didn’t burn it,” he says, smug as ever.
“Cállate.” I snatch my keys from my bag. “Before I change my mind and set it on fire right in front of you.”
I pop the hood closed, open the driver’s door, and slide into the seat before he can say anything worse. Then I turn the key.
The engine starts immediately.
Revel leans down toward the open window, both forearms resting along the frame. “Well, would you look at that. Useful and pretty.”
“You want a sticker, carajo?”
“I’d rather have another kiss.”
“You’re not getting one.”
He grins like I just challenged him instead of shutting him down. “We’ll see.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Keep dreaming, pendejo.”
“Already do, Mama.”
“About yourself, probably.”
“Nah, mostly about you.”
“Ay, Dios mío.” I put the car in reverse. “Move before I put this new battery to use by running your ass over.”
He laughs and pushes away from the door. “There’s my girl.”
“I am not your girl.”
“Not yet.”
“Qué pesado. You think this is a game.”
“I think you like me.”
“I think you have brain damage.”
“Could be both.”
I put the car in reverse. “Move.”
He steps back, still smiling like I didn’t just shut him down for the hundredth time.
Maybe that’s what annoys me most.
He doesn’t look embarrassed or thrown off. He just lets me pull away because, in his head, this is all part of the chase. Like no matter how many times I shut him down, he already knows exactly how this ends.
I roll my eyes, pull out of the driveway, and leave him there packing his tools back into the compartment beneath his bike seat.
By the time I reach the first intersection, he’s caught up.
Of course he has.