Page 69 of My Hotshot

Duane pressed a kiss to my lips, warm and brief, then turned to shrug on his cut. “You’re with me. Always.”

God, I loved it when he talked like that—like I was something he’d hold onto no matter what storm came. That I mattered. That I belonged.

I, of course, wanted to go with him. But I didn’t want to be in the way.

“And who’s going to be with Lottie when she gets out of school?” I asked. My mom-brain never quite turned off. I knew Duane had said someone was always watching her, but that didn’t stop the worry from creeping in.

“The same guy we’ve got watching her, Lainey,” he said calmly. “I promise on everything—she’s safe.”

And I believed him. I’d seen it in his eyes the night she went missing. He would burn the world down to keep her safe—just like he would for me.

I reached up and adjusted the strap under my chin. “In that case, let’s ride.”

He chuckled and kissed me again. “Okay. I’ll get on first, then you climb on behind me, yeah?”

I gave him a thumbs-up. “Got it.”

He threw one leg over the bike like he’d been doing it since birth. Meanwhile, I stared at the narrow seat behind him like it was a balance beam I hadn’t trained for. I gripped his shoulders and started to swing one leg over—except I misjudged the angle, and my foot caught on the edge of the seat.

I flailed.

“Whoa, babe!” Duane caught me mid-stumble, one hand on my arm and the other steadying the bike.

I landed halfway on the seat and halfway on him, laughing nervously. “I’m fine. Just testing your reflexes.”

“Passed with flying colors,” he said with a grin. “Try again, slower this time.”

I did. With a little less flair and a lot more caution, I climbed on and scooted in behind him. My hands settled on his waist, and I leaned forward until my chest touched his back.

“Now what?” I asked, slightly breathless.

He chuckled. “Now I crank her up, and you hold on. Yeah?”

“Seems simple enough.”

When the engine roared to life, I nearly jumped out of my skin. The rumble vibrated through my chest, loud and raw and wild. It wasn’t like hearing it from a few feet away—this wasinsideme, and I felt it in my bones.

“Ready?” he called over the engine’s roar.

I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me. I leaned in close to his ear. “Iamready!”

I felt him laugh, the sound of it swallowed up by the bike. He kicked the stand up. “Hold on, babe!”

We took off.

My arms tightened around him, and my legs gripped the sides of the seat. The wind slammed into us, cool and sharp. I let out a little squeal I wasn’t proud of, but within seconds, something shifted.

It wasfun.

It was terrifying and thrilling and weirdly peaceful, all at once.

By the time we reached the warehouse, I didn’t want to get off the bike. A guy in a headset and sunglasses flagged us down and waved toward an overhead door. Duane gave him a nod, and we rolled forward into the shade of the building.

The bike echoed against the walls as we moved through a large open space and onto a freight elevator. Duane didn’t seem fazed at all, but I leaned back a little, eyeing the industrial metal platform beneath us.

“This is crazy!” I called.

Duane patted my leg. “This is a first for me too, babe.”

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