It’s nearly seven by the time Reese and I get back to Dev’s. He’s picked up an overnight shift in the ER, so he won’t be back until early in the morning, which leaves Reese and me to our own devices. We decided on leftover pizza, beer, and a movie. Don’t get the wrong idea—this isn’t a Netflix and chill kind of situation. It’s two friends hanging out on opposite sides of the couch. I heat up the pizza while Reese cleans up. He’s fully functional now, which means no more oddly taken baths or legs wrapped in plastic bags to shower.
I pushed off bathing duty on Dev since we all know what happened the last time I took a sponge to Reese’s body. Speaking of. My breath catches as he walks into the kitchen freshly showered, with damp hair and no shirt. My eyes immediately dart to his chest and the detailed mechanical tattoo that stretches over his right arm, pec, and all of his side.
He’s too damn hot for his own fucking good and, what makes matters worse, he knows it. He also knows I’m watching. Following him with my eyes as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out a beer.
“You want?” he asks holding up a dark green bottle.
“Yeah.” But I don’t think I’m going to drink it; I think I’m just going to pour it over my head, hoping it’ll extinguish the incessant lust.
Reese grabs an extra bottle and walks directly toward me. I stand there glued in place as he approaches. He’s not wearing his cast, so his stride is fluid, nearly normal, all the cuts in his abs and peaks on his chest rippling enticingly. I swallow hard, really needing that fucking beer.
He stops a breath away from me, the smell of soap lingering between us. His eyes are wide, alight, and bright, bright blue, like a sparkling ocean. He holds up the bottle, pulling it away when I try to grab it. He smirks fiendishly. But I don’t give in. I just stand there patiently, ready and waiting for whatever he’s got. He’s the jester. He likes to play. And he does it well. Too well. But two can play at that game.
“What movie do you want to watch?” I lean up against him.
Reese breathes heavily in my ear, an erection growing instantly underneath his gym shorts.
“If you’re this close to me all night, it doesn’t fucking matter.”
I smile to myself. Men are just too easy.
“I can’t make any promises on proximity.” I continue to rub up against him, teasing the shit out of him long enough to distract him and grab the beer.
“Hey,” he protests once I back away. “Dirty tease.”
“And you love it.” I crack open the top and take a sip.
“I would love it more if you were standing there naked drinking that beer.”
“Dream about it.” I throw back my usual reply.
“Oh, I do.” He looks like he’s about to devour me as he walks by and into the living room.
I hold my breath the whole time. I wonder how transparent I really am. Can he see through my guise? Does he know how much I really want him underneath it all? How much restraint it takes to deny us both?
“What movie?” He plops down onto the black leather couch and picks up the remote.
“A romantic comedy,” I request as I sit on the arm.
Reese curls his lip. “Again? C’mon, Kayla, I need some action.”
“Clearly.” I giggle, eyeing the bulge in his pants.
“Okay, that’s not what I meant. But I need that kind of action, too.” He grins, adjusting himself. I giggle harder.
“You think this is funny? You caused it, you little cock tease.”
“You shouldn’t have held the beer hostage. This all could have been avoided.”
“Doubtful.” He takes a long swig from his bottle.
“Choose whatever you want. I’ll watch anything. I’m easy.” I slide down onto the cushion.
“God, how I wish that were true.” He shifts, wincing uncomfortably.
I almost feel bad. Almost.
As Reese clicks through the new releases on demand, we hear Riley and Knight bustle through the front door, making a ruckus as they normally do. Their visits are nothing unusual; they’re here almost as much as I am.
“Quick, turn on the local news.” Riley sits down on the couch between Reese and me, tapping his hand excitedly against Reese’s thigh.
“What for?” Reese obliges, changing the channel, disinterested.
“Hold on, just watch.” Riley laughs manically, bouncing on the cushion. For a hard-ass adult, he acts like a buoyant five-year-old sometimes. Boundless energy and way too much enthusiasm.
We watch several news clips, Riley becoming more excited with each one.
I glance over at Knight, who is sitting quietly next to me on the arm of the couch. He isn’t much of a talker, but his presence always seems to be abundant.
A few more newscasts air as we look on bemused.
“Dude—”
“Here! Here! Watch!” Riley interrupts Reese as a field reporter stands in front of one of the local trailer park communities broadcasting about another reported overdose.
“The eighth overdose in three months has been reported . . .”
Oh no.
“ . . . It is rumored tainted heroin is circumventing the area, claiming numerous lives. Police have yet to identify the source of the drugs or any possible distributors.” I immediately think of Sam and how tirelessly she’s been working to find the source of the bad drugs. As I listen intently to the young woman speak, there’s a loud rev of dual exhausts. I watch bewildered as two men on motorcycles begin pulling tricks behind her while she reports. Popping wheelies and burning out during the majority of her newscast.
Riley busts up laughing, as does Knight.
“We’re famous like you, yo!” Riley excitedly pushes Reese’s leg, clearly proud of his showy display.
Reese rolls his eyes and chuckles.
“Those are some mad skills, Hatter.” He doesn’t give him much props.
“I know.” Riley goes on anyway. “Did you see that stoppie at the end?”
“It was badass. Now, the whole world knows how cool you are.”
Why does he have to be such a jackass?
“I think it was awesome, Riley,” I chime in. The poor guy just wants some recognition.
“Thanks. See, Nursie knows what’s up.”
“Sure, she does,” Reese replies condescendingly. “She probably doesn’t even know what a stoppie is.”
“He’s right, Riley,” I sigh, aloofly, hiding the fact I know more than I let on. “But whichever trick is was, it was cool as hell.” I glare at Reese. He’s such an idiot.
“Well.” Riley suddenly bounds to his feet. He’s dressed in baggy gray sweatpants, a large white t-shirt, and a flat-brimmed baseball cap. “That’s all folks.”
“What do you mean? Where are you off to?” Reese asks, overly interested.
“Rally out by Miller’s farm. We’re debuting the new performance kit on Knight’s bike.” Riley’s light-green eyes flash with something vitalizing.
A rally is a gathering of bikers. It’s extremely common around here. Dozens and dozens of riders meeting in the middle of nowhere to race, drink, and party. They can get pretty intense. With money, drugs, and pink slips on the line, they can even end up deadly. Riders will bet almost anything for bragging rights. The hotter the commodity, the hotter the race.
How do I know? Because I’ve seen it. I lived it. When I was a different me, a lifetime ago.
“Damn. When are you going to bring my bike over already?” Reese demands.
“When you’re ready to ride it,” Riley informs him haughtily, holding it hostage. A minuscule amount of leverage over the great Reese Dane’s head. We know he’s fixed it. Even told Reese he added some new mods.
“I’ll be ready soon,” Reese cautions him darkly.
“We’ll be the judge of that.” He taps Knight’s chest, urging him to shift off the arm of the couch.
“The only person who judges me is God . . . And the IRTA.”
“IRTA?” I question.
“International Racing Association,” Reese clarifies.
“Of course.” How silly of me not to know that.
With the rustle of modified exhausts in the distance, Reese and I are left with just each other and the low hum of the television in the background.
I chew on my fingernail, lost in thought about Sam. I’ve barely seen her since she started investigating these overdoses. She’s convinced it’s local but has no leads or evidence to prove it. The only thing stringing these cases together is the bag the heroin is distributed in. The one with the wheel stamped on the front.
“Kayla. Earth to Kayla . . .” Reese demands my attention like he demands all the oxygen in the room.
“What?” I look over at him, removed.
“Where did you go? You love to take mental vacations.”
“Oh.” I swiftly come back to reality. “I was thinking about Sam. How hard she’s been working lately.”
“Some big case?” Reese knows what she does for a living.
“Yeah. The biggest in the area.”
“The heroin?” he guesses right. “Rough.”
“It sure is. I’ve barely seen her.”
“You miss her?” he asks genuinely interested.
“I do.” I perk up. “It sounds so corny, but she really is my best friend.”
“Not corny. Dev is my best friend. Just because you don’t see someone every day doesn’t mean your love or friendship fades. Take it from someone who’s been away from his friends and family for over a decade.”