Page 34 of Havoc
“Okay.” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “For the record, I haven’t so much as touched another woman since you walked back into my life. Not here. Not in LA. Nothing.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.” Her brow furrows. “You don’t owe me your loyalty anymore, Levi. Too much has happened. I can’t make you any more promises.”
“Then don’t.” I step back. “But you should know it won’t stop me.”
“From what?”
“Finishing what we started.” I turn to walk away, glancing over my shoulder when she still hasn’t moved. “You coming?”
“Where are we going?”
“For a ride.”
11
Havoc
Aimee’s body relaxes againstmine as the bike leans. Her chest presses to my back, and I soak in the comfort of having her arms wrapped around me. I’ve always known this is where she’s belonged.
On my bike.
With me.
I’m starting to forget why I was ever mad at her, even if she did disappear without a word. Or maybe it’s that I’m starting to realize there’s more to the story than I’ve been telling myself.
Guilt takes another sweep through my nerves with that thought.
At least she finally agreed to get on the back of my bike. I’m still in shock that she let her guard down long enough to say yes. For Aimee, it was never as simple as a ride—it was acceptance that this is who I am. A biker. A fact that constantly stood between us.
Leaning with the next turn, I detour from the road that leads to the Twisted Kings clubhouse. When I said we were going for a ride, I meant it. If she’s going to give me this chance, I’m going to take it for what it’s worth.
We ride until we’re so far out of the city it’s just us, the sagebrush, and the sunset painting the sky.
Only then do I pull to the side of the road.
“You finally had enough of me, huh?” Aimee climbs off first, surprising me by accepting my hand for help. “Is that why you brought me to the middle of the desert? To dig my own grave?”
She slips her helmet off her head, and her dark hair waves with the breeze. Behind her, the orange sky adds warmth to her strands.
“Nah.” I grab her helmet and climb off my bike. “You’re more likely to be the death of me, firecracker. Not the other way around.”
Aimee drops her gaze, but not before I catch a glimpse of her cheeks turning pink. And even if she refuses to look at me, I notice her keeping tabs from the corner of her eye. She takes in my every movement as I pull a blanket out of my saddlebag.
“What are we doing?” She kicks a rock with her sneaker, watching me stretch the blanket across the dirt.
“Sitting. Getting some space.” I shrug, dropping onto the blanket. “Getting some air.”
“Very funny.” She drops down next to me but keeps a foot of space between us. “Do you do this often?”
“Not really. Just when I need to think. It’s quieter out here than it is back at the clubhouse.”
“I see that.” Aimee sets her gaze on the horizon.
At least she’s not scowling or frowning. She’s not even glaring at me. As she stares out at the empty desert, she’s lost in her thoughts. And while I’d like to take a moment to appreciate it, I’m not naive enough to think Aimee’s mood has anything to do with her finally letting her guard down for me.
Something is on her mind.
“Everything okay?”
