in recognition at Oliver, who nods back.
“And her?” I whisper, thoroughly embarrassed to have been caught like this. I mean I’m dressed at least, but I’m wrapping in a blanket shamelessly making out with Oliver. “She an ‘old lady’ too?”
Oliver chuckles. “She’s a Lost Devil, actually.”
My brows arch. “Really?”
“Really. Like I said, none of that old-school misogyny shit. This isn’t exclusively a boys club.”
“And him?”
“Our Vice President, Rowan. Lucy’s his wife.” I blink in surprise, and Oliver chuckles. “I’m blowing your mind and ruining everything you think you know about motorcycle clubs, aren’t I?”
“I mean, yeah?” I giggle. “Sort of? But I like it.”
“Good,” he growls, pulling me close. Our lips melt together again, and this time, I just sink into him. When we finally come up for air, Rowan and Lucy are nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, what time is it?”
Oliver frowns and pulls away to stick his head back inside for a second.
“Half-past.”
“Seven?”
He grins, shaking his head. “Eight.”
“Shit!”
He frowns in concern, and I groan.
“I have to work this morning, at the diner. I’m on at ten. Shit!” my face scrunches up. “What’s the drive-time back to Dark Water Falls?”
“Two hours, but I can get you to the diner by ten. Ready?”
I pause, realizing this moment is about to break—realizing this little escape from my life is about to be over, putting me right back into the reality of my situation. Last night was reckless, in terms of staying out all night. But I’d texted Bryce that work went late, and I’d be staying at Scarlett’s place. Also, I checked his Instagram and saw the bunches of new pictures posted of him at some crappy bar getting shit-faced with a bunch of strung-out looking girls. So, chances are he spent the night snorting drugs and trying to screw addicts anyways.
“This isn’t over, you know,” Oliver says quietly, like he’s reading my thoughts. “I mean you and me, here?” he shakes his head. “This ain’t a one-time thing, and we both know it.”
“I think that’s pretty clear by now,” I murmur, sinking into him and leaning in to kiss him again. “Just, this place…” I smile wryly. “It feels like an escape, being here.”
He grins. “Why do you think I live here?”
I smile back, and he kisses me again.
“So, come live here.”
I look down.
“We both know it’s more complicated than that,” I say softly.
He nods. “C’mon, let’s get you to work.”
Five minutes later, the bike is rumbling to life under us, and we’re roaring off from that wooded hideaway back into the real world.
My heart is still racing like crazy as I step off the back of Oliver’s bike. I swallow, my legs shaking as I look into his grinning face.
“What did I say?” he grins.
I laugh nervously. Holy shit, what a rush. We made it here in what has to be some kind of land speed record, and even though I clung to him for dear life the whole ride and felt like my heart was going to burst form the pure adrenaline rush, I never felt unsafe. I felt completely protected, and that he was perfectly in control.
“Thanks,” I whisper, leaning in before I remember I’m standing outside of where I work, in broad daylight. But we both freeze like that, an inch apart, our lips aching to touch and our eyes burning pure desire into each other’s.
“Oh fuck it,” Oliver growls, and with a gasp from my lips, he closes the distance and kisses my mouth hard.
I moan, melting into him, my arms circling him, hands clinging to his leather jacket as he scoops me against him. My lips part for his tongue, and I whimper as he kisses me hard and bruisingly, like he wants to make sure my mouth never forgets his. I lose myself in him, kissing him for what feels like an eternity before I pull away, gasping and shivering with heat.
…And that’s when I hear the whistle.
With a gasp, I whirl, and suddenly, my whole world turns cold. My vision swims, my heart sinks, and it’s like I can’t breathe.
Twenty feet away from us, leaning over the passenger seat of his crappy car and leering through the rolled-down window with a grin on his face, is Jay Morrison—Barnes’s second-in-command.
Oh God.
“Oh wow,” he laughs, shaking his head. “With this fucking English dickhead?” He lets out another howl of laughter. “Oh you stupid, stupid bitch.”
Oliver snarls, but Jay just cackles, grinning at us.
“You two are fucked, you know. Fuckin’ fucked. You?” He nods at me,