Rhythm of the Road - Autumn Jones Lake Page 0,71

a charter there. Z wants me to help them with a few things.”

“Anything fun?” I still don’t know what he actually does for the club.

His face slides into that expressionless mask I noticed last night when Chaser probed about the club. “Never mind,” I say quickly. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s nothing major,” he says without elaborating.

A sharp whistle splits the air. The chug-roar of the van rumbles to life.

“Shelby! Let’s go!” Greg shouts.

“Dammit.” Tears prick my eyes. I’m not ready to say goodbye.

“Come on. I’ll walk over with you.”

“No. Don’t.” My protest is a blunt hammer, stopping him in his tracks. “I want to remember you like this. Next to the truck we spent the weekend in. Together.” I sniff. “If you come over there, I might drag you onto the van with me.”

His firm hands grip my waist, yanking me closer. Without a word, he leans down and presses his mouth to mine. Hard.

It’s not a sweet kiss. It’s one of need and desperation, longing and goodbye. He groans and lifts me, pushing me against truck, and deepens our kiss. My legs wrap around him, squeezing his hips. I loop my arms around his neck, hanging on tight. His beard tickles and scratches my chin and above my lip.

Another piercing whistle pulls us apart.

Rooster growls and shifts his focus toward the van.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

His expression softens as he faces me. “Be awesome tonight.” A smile teases the corners of his mouth. “I hate that I’m missing your show.”

My heart flips at the sincerity in his voice. No one in my life besides my mother has ever taken my music so seriously. “I’ll miss you being there.”

He sets me down gently.

We step around the side of the truck where Jiggy and Dex are still waiting at their bikes. How much did they overhear? Will Jiggy razz Rooster terribly?

Dex notices us first and flashes a friendly smile. “Bye, Shelby. Good luck.” He holds out his fist to me and I tap his knuckles with my own.

“Thank you for coming out all this way with Rooster.”

“Not a problem.” He lifts his chin. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Jigsaw’s more subdued than I expected. He also holds out his fist for a bump. “Be safe, Shelby.”

“I’ll try.”

He flicks his gaze toward Greg, who’s on the verge of having an apoplectic fit, and curls his lip in a snarl. “He better do his job and look out for you.”

“I’ll be okay,” I promise. “Thank you.”

I jump up and hug Rooster one last time, kiss his bristly cheek, and dart away. Good thing the parking lot isn’t busy at this hour. I don’t bother looking for cars as I sprint to the van.

“Let’s roll.” I stop in front of Greg.

We’re not close enough for him to ask many questions. “Cincinnati, here we come!” he says in a cheerful voice.

I pump my fist in the air with appreciation at his attempt to cheer me up.

The guys are in their designated spots, and I murmur hellos. Trent tosses my favorite blanket at me, hitting me in the face with it. I hug it to my chest and stick my nose in the cozy fleece. “Did you wash it?”

He shrugs. “They had a washer and dryer on our floor.”

“Thank you.”

His shoulders jerk in another whatever shrug. I curl up in my seat, pulling my blanket around me. As much as I try to resist, I can’t help pressing my face against the window to spy on Rooster. The glass is tinted, so he can’t see me watching him as he talks to his brothers, flicking a glance at the van every couple minutes.

Come on. Hurry up. Why’d Greg call me over here if we were just going to idle for minutes?

James finally drops into his seat. Greg smacks the van door before jogging off to his own vehicle.

Even though, he can’t see me, Rooster lifts his hand as the van pulls out of the parking lot. I press my fingers to the glass and choke down a sob.

Maybe this is what my momma meant. This moment. Right here. Lost in the time Rooster and I were able to spend together, my brain buried how much it hurt when we’d said goodbye in Texas months ago.

Maybe she remembered how sad I’d been after Rooster left.

Back then, I had the upcoming tour and hours of rehearsals to pull me out of my funk. Now, I’ve got nothing but miles of road ahead of me

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