I know what I want, and it isn’t that.
Still, I should give him a chance.
Maybe he doesn’t work as much as he’s saying.
“What about you, Evelina? Your mom tells me you own your own café.”
“Yeah, I do. I own Wildflowers. It’s on the main street, right at the end.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it before.”
I smile awkwardly.
This is uncomfortable.
Should I feign diarrhea? That usually ensures they don’t call me again.
I’m contemplating this when the door opens to the Italian restaurant we’re in and I see Riggs striding in. He’s wearing his leathers, looking like a god damned lickable ice cream, and he’s striding right toward me and my date.
Oh, god.
No.
This is very bad.
Very bad.
He gives me a little smirk before he reaches the table. There, he leans down, captures my face in one of his hands, and kisses me. He kisses me hard and fast, no tongue, just those incredible lips, but it is enough to have me forgetting I’m on a date, forgetting that I’m with someone else and everyone is probably looking. It makes me forget everything except the incredible feeling of his mouth on mine.
He leans back and looks down at me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Mom said you should be home by now.”
Wait.
What?
Mom?
What?
“Huh?” I squeak.
“I’m sorry,” Bjorn says. “I must have missed something here.”
Riggs looks to Bjorn. “Oh, you must be her date. How are you, I’m her brother, Riggs. I have been looking everywhere for her.”
“Brother?” Bjorn squeaks.
I stare wide eyed at Riggs.
“He’s not my brother, Bjorn, I assure you,” I say, but my voice is squeaky and pathetic. He won’t believe me.
Damn Riggs.
This is good.
Well played.
“Don’t be silly,” Riggs says in a voice that doesn’t match him at all. “Don’t be shy, families kiss each other on the lips all the time. Isn’t that right, Beyorne?”
Oh, god.
What did he just call him?
“It’s Bjorn.”
“Sorry, Byron. I just need to take my sister here home, she’s not supposed to be out this late. With her condition and all.”
“What condition?” Bjorn asks.
“No condition,” I say, laughing. “He’s just playing a prank. We’re not related.”
“Sure we are.” Riggs laughs. “She’s always trying to hide it. Don’t be ashamed, sis, it’s fine. He’ll understand.”
“Understand what?” Bjorn asks.
“Oh, about the baby.”
“What baby?”
“The one she’s pregnant with. We’re not sure who the father is, though we have a few ideas. You can’t just capture any man and try to blame it on him, Evelina, you need to take responsibility one day. Now come on, Mom is worried.”
My face is flaming hot.
My eyes are wide.
I’ll give it to him, he nailed this one.
I stand and look over to Bjorn, who is a little pale. “He’s kidding, I swear.”
Riggs laughs again and throws his arm around my shoulder. “Come on, little sis. Before Mom freaks out anymore.”
“Sorry,” I squeak as Riggs walks me outside.
The second we’re out, I turn around and slap him. My tiny hand hits his chest over and over. “You’re evil! Evil! I was on a date.”
Riggs grins. “With that dick? I doubt you were enjoying it.”
“I was having a wonderful time, thank you very much. Who told you I was here? Ramona. Oh, it was Ramona ...”
“She didn’t like him, either.”
“I’ll kill her!” I growl.
Riggs keeps the smirk, takes my arm, and walks me toward his bike.
I pause when we reach it.
“I’m not getting on that, god knows you have probably rigged it to throw me off or something equally as bad.”
“I didn’t, so get on. Unless you want to waste money on a cab.”
“Have you seen what I’m wearing? I can’t get on a bike.”
He stares down at the dress I’m wearing—short, tight and black. It’s sexy; I got it from a shop that specializes in curvy girl attire and fell in love with it. It hugs my curves and is a flattering cut that makes my ass look great and my boobs even better.
“Lookin’ to get laid, were you?”
“Yes, actually, I was. The drought has been going on long enough. I shaved my legs and everything before you so rudely interrupted. There will be bittersweet revenge, I hope you know that.”
“I have no fuckin’ doubt. Get on, the bike will vibrate enough to sort you out for the evening.”
My face flushes. “You’re crude.”
He shrugs and climbs on. I hesitate, looking back at the restaurant where Bjorn is staring out the window at me. I give him an awkward wave, and he shakes his head in disgust and looks away.
He doesn’t believe me.
Of course he doesn’t.
Sexist dick.
I exhale and climb onto the bike, my legs spreading wide as I shuffle closer to Riggs. I swallow down the shame as I feel the heat emanating from between my legs. Awesome. I wonder how long it’ll take for him to feel that against his back. He already does, I’m sure.
“See you’re enjoyin’ it already,” he murmurs and then starts the bike.
I groan.
Shame.
I pull the helmet over my head, to block out the horror, and then, with hesitation, I reach around and take Riggs’ jacket in my hands and he takes off. The second he does, my arms slide around him, unable to do anything else. The feeling of being on the back of this bike is out of this world. I go from tense to relaxed in seconds, and my laughter trails out through the helmet as he goes a little faster.
I can see him smile when I glance into the mirrors, and it makes something inside of me feel funny.
I should have zero attachment to this man, yet I find myself enjoying our time together and our little games far too much.
We ride for a bit, and then Riggs pulls into the parking lot we share and rides right up to my apartment. He stops the bike and I get off, unable to wipe the grin from my face when I pull the helmet off.
“That was kind of fun,” I admit.
“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ great. You ever want to go again, you let me know.”
I hand him back the helmet. “Thanks for the ride.”
He climbs off the bike, too. “I’m not done yet.”
I blink. “What?”
His eyes meet mine. “I’m not fuckin’ done yet.”
“With what?”
He walks toward my apartment. “You.”
Oh.
Oh.
Oh. My. God.
I stare at him, watching as he goes to my door, stops, and turns, looking at me. He wants me to let him in. To do what? Oh, god, is he going to fuck me? I can’t say that would be a bad thing, but I should probably resist.
God dammit.
I don’t know why I’m putting one foot in front of the other right now.
But I am.
I’m walking toward him with the intentions of letting him do whatever it is he’s planning.