Page 32 of Bend

“You absolutely are,” he says dryly. “And that might be the lamest excuse you’ve ever come up with dude.”

“Oi, shut up.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. Before I can think of something clever to say back, she starts walking toward us, and there’s something about the way she does it that shifts the air a bit. Up close she’s even prettier. Which is… bloody inconvenient.

She stops in front of us, one brow lifting slightly.

“Do I look lost?” she asks.

Her voice is smooth. Calm.

American. I grin.

“Bit, yeah,” I say easily. “Lucky for you, we’re the local welcoming committee.” I push off my bike and take a slow drink before nodding toward the house.

“So what brings you here then?” I ask casually. “You come to get a selfie with the Speed Demons like the rest of these chumps?”

Her brow lifts slightly.

“The speed who?”

Wolfe snorts beside me.

Right. Fair enough.

“Speed Demons,” I repeat, gesturing toward the bikes lined up beside us. “One of the teams new sponsors is the one hosting this whole circus.”

She glances toward the house again, then back at me.

“No,” she says calmly. “Never heard of, what was it? Speedy Demons? Sorry, I was just invited by a friend.”

I tilt my head.

“Ah. One of the rich ones then.”

“Maybe.”

Her eyes flick briefly between Wolfe and me again, studying us in that quiet observant way she’s got going on like she’s already clocked more than either of us have said out loud.

Wolfe pushes himself upright off his bike, taking a slow sip of his beer while he looks her over just enough to make it obvious he’s interested without being a prat about it.

“Either way,” he says easily, “standing in a driveway probably isn’t what your friend had in mind when they invited you.”

His eyes flick toward the house.

“We should probably get you a drink.”

I grin slightly.

“Yeah. Then we can help you track down this mysterious friend of yours.”

She considers that for a second, then shrugs like she’s decided we’re entertaining enough to follow.

“Alright.”

Inside the house the music’s louder, the air warmer, bodies packed close together across the open living room and the wide glass doors that spill out toward the deck.

People glance at us as we walk through, a few whispers, a couple phones lifting slightly.