“You didn’t have to agree to bring me here,” she said softly.
“Woman, you say that like I had a choice in it.Hell with that.I wanted to.”
She searched his eyes.Found the hunger that matched the feeling curling low in her belly.The same fear too.That damned fear that this was fast, reckless, and way too much like every mistake she’d ever made with men who carried danger like a second skin.
But this didn’t feel like a mistake.
She reached up, brushed her thumb along the ridge of scar on his cheekbone.He didn’t flinch.Didn’t pull away.
“First time I’ve dared to put my arms around a man on a bike since my ex,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.“Never rode alongside someone where it wasn’t like a cage around my lungs.”
Dan’s breath hitched.“Whoever he is, I’m not him.”
“I know.Oh, I so know.”She let her hand slide down and rest against his chest, right over the steady, hard beat of his heart.“You’re something else entirely.”
He covered her hand with his, pressing it harder against him.Like he wanted her to feel it.Like he wanted her to know he was solid.Genuine.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured.“I’ll be out front if you need anything.”
She tilted her head.“You gonna stand guard all night?”
“Planning on it.”
Riley smiled.It was small, and tired, because it’d been a fuck of a day, but she knew it looked real.“Don’t freeze your ass off, Just Dan.”
He gave the barest hint of a grin under the scars.“I’ve survived worse.”
Then he turned, opened the door, and stepped out.
The lock clicked again behind him.
Riley stood there a moment, heart still racing from the ride, from the touch, from the quiet promise that had hung in the air between them.
She unzipped the go-bag and pulled out the old picture one last time.
Stared at Ronnie’s cocky smile.
Then she walked to the small trash can in the corner and dropped the photo inside.
She didn’t look back.
For the first time in years, the past felt like it might actually stay buried.
She kicked off her boots, crawled under the quilt, and closed her eyes.
Outside, she could hear the low rumble of Dan’s voice talking to someone in the hall.Steady.Calm.Keeping watch.
She smiled into the dark.
Happy Tuesday, Riley Monroe.
It didn’t even feel too sarcastic.