Pain flickered across his features, the muscle in his jaw flexing again, as he stared into my eyes. Then he lowered his gaze to where I held his hand and his grip tightened. When he eventually looked up again, there was something like awe in his expression.

Something sweet.

Something significant.

And something dangerous to my emotions.

When he spoke, his voice was rough, hoarse. “Let me get you home, sweetheart.”

Our walk to the gym was silent but Rhys didn’t release my hand. When we got to his garage, to his bike, he brushed my hair off my shoulders and carefully put my helmet on for me. Once I got on the bike after he’d straddled it, he took my hands and drew them around his waist so I was pressed as close to him as I could get.

Part of me feared arriving at my place because with the thick tension between us, I half expected Rhys to ask to come up.

And the scary thing?

I wasn’t sure I would say no.

However, Rhys didn’t ask to come up. He stayed on the bike as I got off. He removed his helmet, waiting patiently as I took off mine. He reached for my hand and jerked me toward him.

My heart jumped into my throat, only to nosedive down again when he placed a brotherly kiss to my forehead.

Huh.

“’Night, Tinker Bell. I’ll see you Saturday, yeah?”

I had to clear my throat to speak. “Saturday,” I agreed, stepping back.

“Not leaving until you’re safe inside, sweetheart.”

Confused, disappointed, I nodded numbly and hurried inside my building. It was only when I was inside the elevator that I slumped against it and whispered, “You are seriously, seriously in trouble, Parker Brown.”

Thirteen

Rhys

I have to admit, there was something immensely satisfying about rumbling up the guarded gate of some richie’s estate in my red 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS 454. My girl announced her presence with a throaty growl, drawing a sneer from the rent-a-cop on duty. My satisfaction multiplied as I handed him the gilded invitation to this trumped-up garden party and he immediately started kissing ass.

“A valet will meet you at the end of the drive, sir. Have a lovely afternoon, sir.”

I waved him off and gunned it up the drive. Much to Parker’s irritation.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” she muttered. She wasn’t a fan of the Chevelle. Well, not outwardly. I swore she got a gleam in her eye earlier when I’d hit the gas on the highway. She’d covered that little slip of enjoyment by complaining about the amount of gas we were wasting.

I glanced over at her and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I am. Did you see that guy’s face? Like he’d sucked a lemon through a straw.”

She sniffed and then turned to look over her shoulder at the winding drive.

“What now?” I asked. Ahead, the drive curved and a massive white clapboard house, sprawled out over a carpet of emerald green, came into view. Jesus.

“I was just checking to see if this fossil-fuel dinosaur was leaving behind a cloud of noxious black fumes.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “Cute.”

I’d taken the Chevelle because I didn’t want to subject her to the hour’s ride out to Manchester-by-the-Sea on the bike. Some thanks I got.

Parker crossed her arms under her pert breasts and glared straight ahead. “I’m serious. The greenhouse emissions this thing gives off is the stuff of nightmares.”

One thing I knew to be true about Parker was that she started in on her favorite subject when she was nervous. When Dean was a kid, he used to rattle off equations for the same reason. Thus, I knew the only thing for it was to offer a distraction.

“Hey, I didn’t see you throwing a fit when you told me to throw out those brown bananas at my place the other night.”

Her brows winged up and she looked at me as though I’d grown another head. “I’m not following. At all.”

Gotcha, babe.

I shrugged as I turned onto a circular drive where valets helped rich people out of their Astons and Jags. “Just that almost 11 percent of greenhouse gas emissions comes from methane created by rotting food. So, if you’re going to attack Ruby, you should probably side-eye all the food you throw out too.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out. I grinned wide. “Guess you’re not as up to date on environmental issues as I thought.”

Parker growled. “I knew about that!”

“Uh-huh.”

Rolling her eyes, she sat back in her seat and huffed. But soon her lips were twitching and she let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Fine. You got me.”

I couldn’t help laughing too. The sky peeked through the leaves overhead, dappling the car in sunlight. It gleamed on Parker’s smiling face, and something in my chest flipped over. I had to suck in a quick breath, but I was still left feeling light-headed.

Tags: Kristen Callihan, Samantha Young Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net