Page 146 of Bend

“I can see that.”

“No, I mean there’s layers.”

“St Clair”

“I’m just saying.”

Andre checks his phone. “And I’m saying whatever weird little relationship summit you idiots are holding can wait, because we’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

That gets a chorus of complaints.

“Twenty?” Talon asks. “You said eight.”

“I changed it.”

Revel looks toward the clock. “You cannot just change the departure time after everybody already planned around eight.”

Andre stares at him. “You want to test that theory?”

Revel considers it.

Cece points at him. “Revel, learn when to shut up.”

“So fucking bossy.”

Andre starts toward the door again. “Twenty minutes. Bags packed, gear ready, or you’re getting left behind.”

Sayshen calls after him, “What if we’re in the bathroom?”

Andre doesn’t even turn around.

“Then shit faster.”

The door shuts behind him and there’s a beat of silence. Then Thorne looks around at everyone again.

“And for the record, if one fucking word about this makes it into the group chat, I’m throwing everyones phones in the sea.”

Bexley lifts her brows. “That sounds like confirmation that there’s something worth putting in the group chat.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Wolfe laughs.

****

The moment we reach the paddock, breakfast, Draygon, Wolfe kissing Thorne in front of everyone and the entire fucking circus that followed gets shoved firmly to the back of my brain and the bikes take over.

Thank fuck.

The sponsor machines are already lined beneath the awning, polished within an inch of their lives and wearing all the right colors, numbers and logos, but they still look wrong to me.

Not bad, just unfamiliar.

I know our bikes back home. I know which throttle has a fraction too much play before I even touch it, which clutch Reign likes biting higher than anyone else, exactly how much Wolfe hates fighting the front on entry and how Talon will notice a change so small everyone else would swear I imagined it.

These aren't those bikes.

Which means the setup sheets come out.