Damaged (Boys of Winter #2) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,67
see them, send their butts home. Their bedrooms are a mess and they’ve tracked dirt all through my living room.”
“Will do,” he says, pulling me out before I even get a chance to say goodbye.
Cruz drags me through his home, getting faster and faster by the second. “Where are we going?” I ask as he makes it far too obvious that he has a destination in mind.
His eyes light up like New Year’s fireworks as he beams back at me. “I’ve been dying to show you this.”
I groan as he doesn’t give away a damn thing. He stops by a door, and without giving me a second to catch myself, he pushes straight through to his massive garage, and I gape at the collection of bikes that take up the far side.
He hurries through the garage still holding onto me, but this time he doesn’t need to drag me because I think I might even be going faster than he is. “What the hell, Cruz? You’ve been hiding all of this in here this whole time? Fuck me.”
My greedy gaze sweeps over his impressive collection, and I watch as he walks straight to the Harley Davidson that sits front and center, matte black just like my Ducati. “Check her out,” he says, running his fingers over the sleek curves and practically drooling. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
Damn. Is it possible to be jealous of a bike?
He looks at it with such adoration that I can’t help getting a little closer. He straddles it and I instantly climb onto his lap. He reaches around me, and I feel the vibration of the bike shoot straight through to my core. “Wanna ride?”
“Don’t I always?”
A grin kicks up the side of his mouth and he holds me tight as the garage door slowly peels open. I go to twist around him to sit behind, but he doesn’t let me go. “Stay,” he dares, knowing damn well that I wouldn’t be able to resist.
And just like that, Cruz goes flying out of the garage with me sitting in front of him, and my legs wrapped securely around his waist. The wind hits the back of my head and whips my hair over my shoulder, only just missing Cruz’s face as he reaches around me and grips the handlebar.
We hit the main road and I can’t help but laugh, only now just realizing that in all that, I never actually learned his mother’s name. I’ll have to ask later, because right now, Cruz is taking me for the ride of my life. I know it’s fucking stupid and just asking for trouble, but I trust him blindly with my life. He won’t let me fall. Besides, how could I possibly resist the joy that spreads across his face while having his two favorite things between his legs and the opportunity to forget the damaged world around us?
CHAPTER 17
My bedroom door swings open, and I fly up out of bed only to find Ember standing in my doorway. “What the fuck happened yesterday?” she demands, walking straight in and dropping onto the edge of my bed. She crawls in beside me and lays her head down, only to cringe when the massive lump on the side of her head presses against the pillow.
She sucks in a sharp breath, her hand falling to the side of her head and gently feeling the evidence of yesterday’s attack. She meets my stare, her eyes filled with panic. “Please tell me that’s a zit the size of an egg on the side of my head and not a fucking lump from getting punched by a psychotic douchebag.”
My face twists into a cringe and I take her hand, gently removing it from her head to examine her lump. “You’re going to need to ice that,” I tell her, taking in the deep purpling bruise that spreads right through the lump and around her eye, something that she wouldn’t even come close to covering up with concealer. “How are you feeling? Do you have a headache? Do you need a painkiller or something like that? I’m pretty sure King put some on the bedside table in your room with a bottle of water.”
Her eyes widen. “King was in my room while I slept?” she asks, not even swooning at the idea of being in his arms like the usual, chirpy version of Ember would have done. “Just tell me he wasn’t being a creeper while he was in there.”