Page 17 of Heartbeats & Highways

“Yeah?”

I took a deep breath. “I refuse to be one of many.”

His brow furrowed and he nodded slowly. “All right.”

“All right,” I repeated.

He gently untangled himself from me and I mourned the loss of his heat.

“Let’s get breakfast. You hungry?” he asked as he sat up. He scratched his chest, drawing my attention once again to his rippling muscles and ink. “Evie?”

“Hm?”

“Breakfast,” he repeated. “You like pancakes?”

“I like waffles better.”

He grinned. “Get dressed. I’ll take you to breakfast.”

“I don’t have clean clothes,” I said, pointing to my soiled pleather vest. “And it’s cold on the back of your bike without a jacket.”

“I’ll find you a jacket. You can wear my shirt.” His eyes dipped. “I like you in my shirt.”

Before I could reply, he was up off the floor and reaching for his jeans.

He was beautiful, like a sleek predator. Wild and untamed. His name was Savage, and his body reflected it.

“Is that—what is that?” I asked with a gasp, pointing at a scar on his abdomen.

He looked down. “Oh. Bullet wound.”

“Bullet—wound?”

“I was shot. Had to get my spleen out.”

He said it so casually.

“And you’re tempting fate again by fighting the way you do?”

“We all tempt fate all the time, whether we realize it or not.” He shrugged. “Might as well enjoy life while we’re at it. Get dressed, Evie. I’m hungry.”

I didn’t ask where the woman’s jacket came from, but Savage assured me it didn’t belong to a random club groupie. The clubhouse was quiet, and I had no doubt that people were sleeping off last night’s party. Savage grasped my hand and led me through the kitchen and living room which were a complete and utter mess.

The morning was bright and cool, and Savage turned up the collar of my jacket and then placed the helmet on my head. He clipped it and made sure it was tight enough.

I loved being on the back of his bike. A few days ago, I’d never even been on a motorcycle, but now I couldn’t fathom life without the exhilaration. It was exciting and fun, and even though it was dangerous, I trusted Savage to keep me safe.

I trusted a man I hardly knew and yet . . .

His lips had been soft against mine. Gentle, and then hungry.

He was going to consume me.

I shivered.

“You cold?” Savage asked, looking at me over his shoulder at my movement.

“Just a little,” I lied. “I’ll be fine, let’s go.”

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