White Lies (Lost Kings MC 15)

For now, it’s safe.

Hidden in plain sight.

Heidi

Not for the first time, it occurs to me that taking X-rays and working as a photographer’s assistant aren’t that much different. I spend most of my time positioning people and lights just right. Although, with X-rays, I’m trying to get the clearest true image, and with photography, I’m helping Trinity capture the most attractive image.

Around eight, we finish, and I help her clean up the studio for tomorrow.

“Are you okay, Heidi?” Trinity asks once we’re finished. “You seem distracted.”

Shit, I thought I’d left the Bryce incident far behind once we started working.

I don’t dare tell Trinity about my Bryce problem. She’ll tell Wrath, and Wrath will tell Blake. The last thing I need is Blake confronting another one of my classmates.

“I’m fine. Just worried about finishing everything before graduation.” There, at least that’s not a lie. “Do you need me to stay?”

“Nope. I’m going to flip through this session and flag a few of the good ones then head out.”

She gives me a quick hug, and I bounce next door to see Blake.

Furious is pretty quiet. I recognize a group of guys around my age who work out here regularly. A group of girls my age that I don’t recognize have all the ellipticals occupied.

Blake’s walking the main floor, watching over clients and answering questions. He notices me and nods. Since he’s busy, I point to the locker room and hold up my bag. Between studying and driving, I’ve spent a lot of time on my butt this week and might as well make use of my time here.

He gives me another nod, and I hurry to change into my leggings and tank top.

Since he’s still busy when I emerge from the locker room, I grab one of the free treadmills and start my warm-up. Ten minutes in, something brushes over my ass, and I whip my head around.

Blake gives me a sly smile. “I thought I told you not to wear these here?”

“What?” I glance down at my shiny purple leggings. My favorite pair. “You said they make my ass look great.”

He leans in. “I said they make your ass look fuckable, and I don’t want anyone else noticing.”

His low, raspy voice sends a shiver of desire through me, but I don’t want him to know that. “Well, this is all I had in my car, so too bad.”

His eyes dance with amusement. “I’m messing with you.”

While that’s true, I also sense an undercurrent of truth to his words.

He glances at my time and steps onto the treadmill next to me. “It’s slow.” He swivels his head and checks out the rest of the room. “You see anyone who looks like they need help, let me know?”

“You got it.”

He’s just getting started when a woman in painted-on workout pants sashays over and starts thrusting her ass in our faces.

Okay, she’s really standing in front of the mirror that happens to be directly in our line of sight, and I think she’s doing squats, but there’s literally twenty feet of open space she could’ve chosen for her workout.

I’d say it’s unintentional except for the way her thirsty eyes seem to be watching Blake in the mirror.

I shift my gaze to Blake who seems oblivious to the show in front of us. “How was work?” he asks when he notices me watching him.

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Long. Nothing exciting. One of the women said there might be an opening soon.”

“I thought you didn’t want to work there when you’re done?”

“It’s not my first pick.”

“I don’t want you to settle.”

My heart beats a little faster and not because of the workout. I could tell Blake I want to quit and enroll in clown school, and he’d probably help me go shopping for the shiny red nose.

“What’s that look?” he asks.

“I love you,” I mouth to him since squat-thrust girl is still in front of us.

She’s not the first girl to try to grab his attention. Far from it. Most of the regulars know me, but that still doesn’t seem to stop them. This is the first time one’s been so blatant in front of me, though.

I tilt my head in her direction, and Blake’s gaze follows. He shrugs and rolls his eyes.

“I think I’m done.” My body jerks to a halt when I hit the stop button.

Blake catches up to me at the free weights. “You mad at me, beautiful?” he asks against my ear.

“I already got an A in Anatomy. No need to retake the course—camel toe edition. You should make underwear a requirement here.”

He chokes on a laugh. “I didn’t notice.”

I flick my gaze in the girl’s direction, but she’s—surprise, surprise—moved on to another area. “Her ass is pretty fabulous, maybe I should do some of those.”

“You can do all the squats you want. At home. On my dick.”

“Aha! So, you did notice.”

Instead of justifying my comment with a response, he hands me a fifteen weight. “Try moving up this week.”

I stare at the dumbbell for a few seconds. “I don’t want to be all big and bulky like you.”

He flexes his arm in front of my face. “Those little fifteens won’t get you here. Trust me.”

“Show off.”

After only a few sets, I let out a big yawn, and Blake takes the weights from me.

“You’ve been going all day.” He kisses my forehead. “Why don’t you head home before it gets much later? I won’t be far behind. I’m not staying until closing tonight.”

“You’re probably right.”

I don’t even bother changing.

Hand in hand, we stroll over to my car. I kick a few rocks, sending them skittering ahead of us. A perfectly shiny white Charger tucked all the way in the corner of the lot catches my attention. “Hot ride.”

“Mmm,” Blake mumbles.

“Temporary plates.” I squint, checking it out. “Does it belong to one of your clients?”

“Probably.” He nudges me toward my car.

My feet start moving over the pavement.

“Where are you going?” Blake asks, catching up to me.

“Ooo, look, it’s a Hellcat edition.” I point to the emblem on the side. “I want to look at it.”

“Why?”

“It’s a nice car. Why are you being weird about it?” I glance back at the gym. “Is it squat-thrust girl’s car? It is, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Blake’s more interested in motorcycles than cars, I get that. I still don’t understand why he’s acting so strange. It’s not like I’m going to hotwire the damn thing and go for a joy ride.

Grumbling, he reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a set of keys. “I should’ve known better.”

“About what?”

“It’s yours. Happy graduation. Although, now, I’m thinking I should return it.”

I stare at the car, convinced I’m having audible hallucinations. “This is mine?”

Blake squeezes my shoulders. “Yeah, it’s yours.”

“Why? How? What?” I’m babbling now.

“I’m so proud of you.” He ducks down to meet my eyes. “How hard you’ve worked. I want you to have something fun.”

“It’s mine?” I grab his hand and drag him closer to stare at the car.

Cars, vehicles in general, usually only interest me as a means of traveling from point A to point B. Growing up around motorcycle-crazed men will either nurture a love of all things with wheels or kill it. My brother’s obsession with jacked-up trucks only fueled my disinterest. The one type of vehicle that’s ever piqued my curiosity for more than a nanosecond is old-school muscle cars. But even they don’t hold my attention for too long. I happen to like all the comforts of modern technology way too much.

This car. This is perfect.

A

fter running my hands over the smooth, cool metal, I tip my head to the side and ask, “How’d you know?”

Blake’s lips curl up, and he swings his arms back and forth, obviously satisfied with himself. “I took a guess. Sorry about the white. I wanted to get it painted before I gave it to you.” He waggles his eyebrows. “I got a good deal on the white.”

Laughter bubbles out of me, and I throw my arms around him. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”

Keeping his hands on my waist, he pulls back. “I was thinking a sparkly dark green and black racing stripes.” He jerks his head in the direction of his bike. “To match my ride.”

“Really?” My voice climbs about five octaves. “I love that!”

“Thought you might. Rock can’t do it, but he’s got someone lined up for me to take it to next week.” He shrugs. “I wanted to give it to you all tricked out with a big ol’ bow once it was finished.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your surprise.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. I don’t think I’m capable of keeping a secret from you that long anyway.” He hands me the keys. “Go on, check it out.”

I race to the driver’s side and let out an excited squeal. “It has four doors. Best mom-sports car ever!”

He roars with laughter. “Your brother had a very different opinion.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever. How’s he ever going to convince Charlotte to have kids with him with that attitude?”

“It’s a sleeper. I think he was more worried you’ve never driven anything with that much power.”

“Really?”

“It’s got the V-8 Hemi engine. Puts out over seven hundred horses.”

I may not know a ton about cars, but I know that’s pretty extreme. “Oh.” I stare at the car and bite my lip, dropping my hand away from the handle. “Now that you mention it, I do get freaked out driving your truck.”

“I know you do,” he says in a given-this-a-lot-of-thought tone. “Here’s my plan, I know a guy with access to a racetrack. We can go out there together and practice until you’re comfortable driving this beast.” He nods to my current ride. “We’re not getting rid of that, either. Probably be better for you in the winter anyway.”

Excited and bursting with love for Blake, who somehow manages to think of every single detail, I jump up and pepper his face with kisses, which he happily returns.