Page 24 of Riot’s Revenge

Simple and exactly the sort of message a man sent when he wasn’t thinking about a woman far more than he should.

Before I could change my mind, I hit send. The reply came less than a minute later.

Maria: That’s disappointing.

Something warm settled low in my chest. Before I could decide whether that was pathetic or not, another message appeared.

Maria: Try not to get arrested. I have exams and don’t have time to organize your bail.

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

The sound immediately earned a look from Reaper as he limped into the room. “What the fuck are you smiling at?”

I locked the screen and shoved the phone back into my pocket. “Mind your business.”

Reaper’s eyes narrowed instantly. “Oh no.”

Ghost wandered over with a beer in hand. “What?”

Reaper pointed at me. “He’s got it bad.”

Ghost looked between us once before breaking into a grin. “Oh, he’s absolutely fucked.”

I considered launching my beer at both of their heads. Instead, I grabbed another one and headed for church while their laughter followed me across the room.

11

MARIA

A week after Riot texted to tell me he wouldn’t see me because of club business, I walked out of the clinic just after eight p.m. and immediately spotted him near the curb.

The evening air carried the first real bite of autumn, cold enough that I pulled my jacket tighter around myself as I descended the steps. My shift had been brutal. One broken wrist, two intoxicated idiots who thought fighting was an acceptable hobby, and an elderly woman who’d spent forty minutes trying to set me up with her grandson.

I was tired, hungry, and already dreading the stack of revision notes waiting for me at home when I stepped out of the clinic.

Riot looked up the moment the door opened, his attention finding me immediately as though he’d been waiting for that exact moment. For reasons I didn’t want to examine too closely, that small detail sent an unexpected warmth through my chest.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

He looked down at the coffee beside him as if debating whether to lie. “Not long.”

“That’s a terrible lie.”

“It wasn’t my best work.”

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Shaking my head, I walked over.

“Most people would’ve texted.”

“Most people don’t get to see your face when you realize I’m waiting outside.” Unfortunately, he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Before I could respond, my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl. Riot’s eyebrow rose immediately, and I briefly considered pretending it hadn’t happened. One look at his face told me that strategy wasn’t going to work.

“That was rude,” I informed my stomach.

“It sounds hungry.”

“It sounds dramatic.”