Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
I touch my forehead to hers. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Okay.” She rubs her hands over my back a few more times before releasing me.
Cold night air rushes in to replace the warmth of her touch. Now I wish I hadn’t told her to stop.
“No one else bothered you after I left, right?” I ask as I take her backpack so she can strap her helmet on.
“No, Griff,” she answers in a teasingly annoyed tone. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” She turns so I can help her slip the straps of her backpack over her shoulders.
I curl my hands around the tops of her arms. “Do what?”
“Scare Wesley away.”
The corners of my mouth turn up. “Not my fault he spooks easily.”
She turns to face me, obvious disbelief twisting her lips into a sarcastic smile. “For real?”
“You’re my girl and he was clearly making you uncomfortable—”
“I’m not your girl.” Her smile fades. “You won’t even tell my brother about us.” She flips the visor down, obscuring her face.
“Molly.” Whatever protest I was about to make dies in my throat. I flick the visor up and lean down so we’re eye to eye. “You’re mine to protect. Always.”
“Why?”
“Why?” My eyebrows shoot up. “Because I care about you. No matter what.” I take her hand and rub my thumb over her knuckles. “You’re also my friend.”
Her bottom lip quivers then stretches into a smile. She squeezes my hand. “You really mean that?”
“Of course I do.” I frown. How can she doubt it? “Remy or no Remy, you’ll always be my friend. I love being around you, Molly. And I hate anyone upsetting you.”
Her smile returns. “That means a lot to me.”
“That you’re my friend?”
She nods quickly.
“Good.” I sweep my hand toward my bike. “Your chariot.”
She lets out a low laugh.
“Where to?” I ask. “Home? Or the bar?”
“Home, I guess. I don’t want to listen to Remy complain about me being at the bar tonight.” She lets out a dramatic sigh as she settles behind me on the seat and wraps her arms around my waist. “Nanna and Grandpa used to let me go there, so I don’t know why Remy has such a bug up his butt about it.”
I choke down my laughter and start the engine. “He worries about you.”
Just like I do.
I’ll get the full story from her eventually.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Griff
It’s a clear, bright, but chilly afternoon. Perfect for the racetrack. I arrived early to help Eraser with a list of chores his uncle gave him to do before we could race.
Molly arrived with her brother not that long ago. No matter how I try to concentrate on scrubbing the grill grates clean, my gaze keeps seeking Molly.
Today, her long shiny hair, a shade of brown so deep it’s almost midnight, tumbles down her back in loose, silky waves. Nothing like the wild puff of frizz she started high school with. She’s always been cute but something about her tipped her into drop-dead beautiful not that long ago. High cheekbones, full pouty lips, button nose, delicately arched brows, wide blue eyes framed with dark lashes. Every time I look at her, my heart just—stops.
She’s wearing another one of my stolen hoodies to the track today, and I can’t stop thinking about the night on the couch with her. Touching her bare, soft skin—
“What are you thinking about, goofball?” Remy’s voice is a violent splash of water on my fantasy.
“Nothing,” I mutter, tearing my gaze away from Molly.
“You better finish cleaning that grill and get it fired up. People will be arriving soon.” He points toward the big stone patio behind the racetrack. Usually Eraser’s Uncle Pax mans the grill, but he’s not coming today so I volunteered. So far, all I’ve done is clean one of the grates.
“Yeah.” I tap my fist against Remy’s arm. “I’ve got it.”
I turn and walk toward the far end of the racetrack. Molly’s talking to Vapor’s wife, Juliet, by the starting line. I catch her eye and she nods. A few seconds later, she meets me.
“Wanna help me get the grill going?” I ask.
One corner of her mouth slides up and she bumps into my side. “Sure. I’ll assist you in starting a fire.”
Her low, honey voice gives me a better idea. I glance over my shoulder. Remy’s way over by the stands, talking to two blondes now. They’ll keep his attention for a while.
We enter the stone patio, enclosed by a low concrete wall to separate the food area from the racetrack. Molly and I weave between several weathered wooden picnic benches over to the grill-and-smoker combo Uncle Pax uses for our cookouts. Damn thing’s the size of a Volkswagen Jetta.
I flip up the lid and replace the grate I just finished cleaning. “We need coal. I think Pax keeps the bags in one of the food booths.” I jerk my thumb toward the first in a line of small, white, shack-type buildings. During the warmer months, different types of carnival food is sold from each building. Except for the one at the end, they’re all locked and shuttered. I wave my hand for Molly to follow me inside the open door.