Page 14 of Slashes in the Snow
“No way. This is one of only three places in all of LA that I can get a lavender latte. A year of your life is worth it.”
“Fucking Christ,” Ky gripes.
“Not so much a morning person, huh?”
“No. Not when I have to go traipsing all over Cali for a fucking lavender latte.” He makes a puke face.
“It’s delicious, I promise. I’ll get you one.”
“Please don’t.”
I shake my ass all the way into Bradlee’s just because I know Ky is watching. I swear, our relationship would be so much more amicable if he wasn’t such an ornery prick.
It does take forever to get coffee, and I can spy Ky through the front window becoming more frustrated by the second. He sticks out like a sore thumb, trapped on the curb as hordes of young college students come and go.
When I finally emerge from the coffee shop, Ky looks like he’s about to bust a blood vessel. Malibu is so not the biker’s scene.
“How exactly are you going to manage that?” he asks as I clutch my coffee and climb back onto the bike.
“I can hold on with one hand. My building is just up the hill. I got skills like that.”
Ky snorts. “Dear Jesus, save me. The girl has skills. If you spill one drop of that on me, I’ll make you walk.”
“No, you won’t.” I click the helmet back into place one-handed. “See? Skills.”
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re a cocky little shit?”
“But I’m hot, right?” I echo his earlier statement.
Ky thins his eyes at me but doesn’t humor me with a response. I totally get under his skin. He slides his dark Oakleys back onto his face, and we take off.
When we pull up to the entrance of the Graziadio Business School, all eyes are on us. The Harley is flashy and loud, just like the man who’s driving it. I don’t mind the attention, though. Secretly, I think it’s kind of cool, and hopefully it sends a message if anyone is watching. I’m not alone anymore. And this guy is kind of a badass.Beware.
“What time do I need to be back?” Ky asks, crossing his arms aloofly, the bike idle.
“I have a four-hour class, then lunch, then another study group this afternoon,” I rattle off my schedule as I slide off the bike, hand him the helmet, and sip my latte. All in that order. “So around 5?”
“Around 5?” Ky drawls.
“4:30ish? I’m not exactly sure how long study group will run.” I wince cutely, hoping that a little sugar will sweeten his mood.
Ky slips his sunglasses down his nose so only a fraction of his scar and icy-blue eyes peek out. I can’t tell if my tactic worked.
“Just give me a half-hour warning, and I’ll be here.”
“Done.” I nod. That seems fair. “I gotta go.” I take a step back, but Ky reaches for my arm. “Text me all your dad’s info, too. And the names of anyone else you think I should look into.”
“I will,” I answer, slightly distracted from Ky’s touch. It’s firm, but not awkward or unwanted. It’s almost nice. He doesn’t seem to be inclined to pull away either. Instead, he rubs his thumb across my forearm gently. It's a bizarre encounter. One I find myself liking. One that makes my heart beat a little faster and makes my knees feel a little weaker.
“Have a good class.” He finally removes his hand.
“I will.” I grin subtly, placing my palm right over the place he was touching me. My skin left tingling and warm.
“Later, Snow.” Ky twists the throttle, and the bike roars. Then he pulls away, making as loud and flashy of an exit as he did an entrance.
On a scale of one to ten, how wrong is it to crush on your stepbrother?
6
