Singe (Men of Inked Heatwave #8) - Chelle Bliss Page 0,8

tow comes, I’ll give you a ride home, where I know you’ll be safe.”

She blinks, staring at me again like I’m speaking a foreign language. “You’re way too nice. There has to be a catch.”

“No catch, babe. Just me. If you knew my family, you’d understand.”

“I don’t have one of those.”

“One of what?”

“A family,” she whispers.

“Really?”

She nods. “You’re lucky, honey. Count your blessings.”

“I do almost every day, but they can be a pain in the ass, too.”

“Pain in the ass trumps loneliness any day.”

“Finally something I can’t argue with you about,” I say with a small smile. “Why don’t you get your things together so when the tow comes, we can head out and get you home.”

“On that?” she asks, ticking her chin to my bike as she moves her eyes over my shoulder, looking like the hunk of metal is going to reach out and bite her.

“Yeah, babe. On that. Never been?”

She shakes her head. “They’re incredibly dangerous.”

I chuckle. “I’ll drive slow, and I guarantee you’ll fall in love.”

She stares at me again, blinking at me like I’m the weirdest human being in the world. “With you?”

“With the bike, but me too, possibly. There’s a whole lot to like about me.”

“You’re a whole lot of trouble too. Don’t need to spend your life surrounded by people and family to know trouble when I see it. And you, mister, are covered in it.”

I release her arm, knowing I shouldn’t have my hands on her. “Get your shit, babe.”

She stares at me for a beat, smiling back at me as I smile at her. “Fine,” she mutters without argument. “But I’m still not sleeping with you.”

“Not all men are about pussy,” I lie, but at least I’m not when it comes to her.

“Oh, okay,” she mumbles, not believing me, and rightfully so.

“At least, I’m not right now.”

“There’s always later,” she corrects me.

“Fuck. You’re so difficult,” I mutter as she stalks toward the driver’s side of the car. “Grab your keys too.”

My phone vibrates, followed by a message that reads Be there in five.

“He’s almost here,” I tell her as she reaches into the car, gathering her things. “Call and cancel your other tow so this doesn’t turn into a clusterfuck.”

For once, she doesn’t argue. She slides her finger across her phone screen, taps a few times, and lifts the phone to her ear. She turns her back and starts to pace up and down the side of the car, far enough away that I can’t stop her movement. “Um, hi,” she says, her voice small and unsure. “I wanted to call to cancel my tow.”

I step back toward my bike, resting my ass on the seat, feet crossed at the ankles, waiting.

This is the shit I get for being a good person. A beautiful but supremely complicated chick. But unlike the other pains in the ass in my life, she doesn’t want anything from me, not even the shit I’m offering.

“Now what?” she asks me.

“We wait,” I tell her, crossing my arms as she puts her ass on her hood again, staring back at me.

The next five minutes will no doubt be the longest of my life.

3

Arlo screamed most of the way back to her place, holding on to me like she’d fall off at any moment.

“Jesus!” she screeches, jumping off the bike before I even have a chance to cut the engine. “Were you trying to kill me?”

Getting her on the bike in the first place was an issue. She’d never ridden, and I promised her I’d go slow and take every precaution to get her home safe.

I did as I promised, too.

I barely went above the speed limit, and I didn’t switch lanes unless absolutely necessary.

I haven’t driven that slow and careful since my first ride, but I did it for Arlo because she seemed to stress out about everything.

“Babe, I went slow. We could’ve walked faster.”

She clutches her chest, bent over, almost hyperventilating. “I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“Are you always this dramatic?” I ask, smirking at her. She’s cute as fuck even if her neurotic level is off the charts.

She glares at me, still holding her chest like she is willing her heart to slow down. “I’m not being dramatic.”

“Dramatic and difficult.”

“You’re a jerk sometimes, even when you’re being sweet. It’s completely maddening.”

“You haven’t spent enough time with me to know that, but we could change that, darlin’.”

“No. No.” She backs away, moving up her driveway. “It’s late. I’m tired.” Her hand comes

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