Page 66 of The Heart Breaker

“Get off my bike.” The words are dragged through my teeth.

She kicks her heel against the metal and cocks her head. “Or what? You’ll spank me?” A wicked smile tugs at her lips. “We both know I like that.”

Yeah. My cock remembers that just fine.

My jaw ticks, but I don’t give her a reaction. “What the hell are you doing here, Prescott?”

She shrugs, her eyes roaming down my chest. “Got bored.”

Ah. She wants to fuck.

“Go find your boy Miller, then.”

She doesn’t even acknowledge what I’ve said, turning her attention back to my bike as she runs her fingers along the handlebars. “This is a nice bike,” she says, glancing back at me through her lashes. “Take me for a ride?”

I should say no. Tell her to get the fuck off and head to the shop. Instead, I sigh—already annoyed at myself—and step toward her, lowering the helmet onto her head. I adjust the strap beneath her chin while she watches me through her lashes, eyes too blue, too pretty, too aware of the effect she has on me.

I look away quickly and swing a leg over the bike, feeling her settle in behind me. I turn the key and the engine growls to life beneath us as I ease us away from the curb.

I’ve never had anyone on the bike with me before. It’s always been me and the road and whatever speed it takes to burn the noise out of my head. Tonight, there’s someone else, someone Ishouldn’t even be around, her breath fanning against my neck through the helmet every time we hit a bump.

So I keep my speed slower than usual, making sure I’m not going to send her flying if I take a corner wrong. Don’t want her death on my hands.

But apparently, Aurora isn’t as concerned about safety, because a minute later I feel her hand slide down, fingers tracing the waistband of my jeans, before she cups my dick over the denim.

My grip stutters on the handlebars.

“Get your hand off me before we crash,” I bite out.

She laughs into my ear. “Scared?”

I twist the throttle, harder than necessary, and the bike surges forward, the wind slamming into us. She lets out a sharp little gasp, her arms flying tighter around my torso. I let out a chuckle and take the next turn too sharp on purpose, just to hear her yelp and feel her grip tighten around me.

“Where the hell are we going?” she asks, tightening her hold on me.

I don’t answer, cutting down a side street a few minutes later. I kill the engine when we pull up to the old abandoned bowling alley, and the sudden silence rings in my ears.

For a second, she doesn’t move. Her hands stay right where they are, her fingers splayed against my stomach. But then she slides off the seat, tugging the helmet free and shaking her hair out.

She looks around, brows lifting as she takes in the boarded-up windows and the faded neon sign. “You bring all your victims here, Ellis?”

“Relax,” I mutter, shoving the keys into my pocket before throwing out my gum. “If I was gonna kill you, I wouldn’t waste gas doing it.”

I head toward the back, the gravel crunching under my shoes, and I hear her follow. Once I get to the door, I shoulder open the side door where the lock is busted and step inside.

“Place has been abandoned for years,” I say, kicking aside a crushed beer can that skitters across the floor. “But once a month, some guys clean it up, party their asses off, and leave it looking like shit again.”

She follows behind, scanning the place. “Well,” she says, stepping over a tipped barstool, “can’t say I’ve ever been here.”

“I know.” I shoot her a look. “It was the only place I could go without seeing you.”

First time I saw her at Colton U, I lost my shit. I hadn’t seen her—or Chase—since that night in high school when everything went to shit. I’d left for Colton a few months later, telling myself I’d be done with them. Sure, I played against Chase sometimes and saw her hanging around the stands, but I could walk away after the game.

Imagine my surprise when I saw Chase’s girlfriend at Colton U a year later.

I couldn’t stand looking at her. Couldn’t stomach the reminder of what she did. And suddenly she was everywhere—at parties, at the bar, hanging with my teammates.

So this became the only place I could breathe. The only place I could get drunk and forget the things I’d spent years trying to forget.