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“You can sleep, doll.”
I scrubbed my hand down my face and shook my head. “I’m good. You shouldn’t have to be the only one awake.”
Throttle chuckled. “I’m okay being the only one awake. I’m just glad Sloane fell asleep so we could turn off that book she was listening to.”
“You didn’t enjoy The Lord of the Rings?” I laughed. That was what had made me so sleepy. I knew Sloane read all different kinds of books, but that was one I didn’t get. Give me the hot firemen, bikers, or cowboys any day over elves and a bunch of rings.
“Not something I’m into, doll.”
Throttle interrupted my thought, and I shifted in my seat.
Speaking of hot bikers.
Throttle didn’t seem so irritated with me anymore. He seemed to actually tolerate me, which was surprising because I figured for sure when he found out that I was at the clubhouse to spy on them, the whole club would kick me to the curb.
I was wrong.
Sitting in the passenger seat of the club’s van on the way to Colorado was not at all how I saw this day going.
“Well,” I yawned. “What are you into?”
“Music,” he replied simply.
“Can you be more specific?” I laughed.
“Rock.”
I figured. I messed with the radio until a rock station came in clear. I sat back in my seat and was surprised I knew the song playing. “Halestorm.”
“Huh? Are you getting delirious on me, Dove? The night is clear.”
I rolled my eyes. “The band playing is Halestorm,” I clarified. “This is one of my favorite songs by them.”
Throttle turned it up and listened.
‘Dirty Work’ was just a banger I never got tired of. When the chorus hit, you couldn’t help but do a little headbang.
The song ended, and I was suddenly amped and not tired.
“Doll,” Throttle called.
I turned down the radio and smiled at him expectantly. “Well?”
“Not at all what I thought you would listen to,” he confessed, “but good.”
I don’t know why I was so worried about what Throttle thought of my favorite song, but I was relieved to know that he liked it. “What about you?” I asked. “What is your favorite song?”
He shrugged and changed lanes to go around a slow car. “Anything by Black Veil Brides.”
“I only know a couple of songs by them.” I pulled up my phone and opened my music app. “I’m going to have to add them to my playlist.”
“Because I like them?”
I added all their albums to my playlist and tucked my phone back in my pocket. “I just like music. Maybe if I listen to the music you like, I can figure you out a little bit more.”
“Figure me out?” he asked.
Oh boy. I should have left that thought in my head. “Uh, not figure you out, just get to know you more.” That was not any better than saying I wanted to figure him out.
“Right,” he drawled. “‘Wake Up’ is a favorite, but I’m not sure what that says about me.”
I smirked and laid my head back. “I’ll listen to it and report back.”
He shook his head and flipped on his blinker.
“Are we finally pulling over?” I asked. When I get my second wind, Throttle decides to call it a night. Of course.
Throttle nodded. “Yeah. It’s past midnight, and this is the last hotel for a while.” He pulled off the exit and pulled into a motel parking lot.
Sloane and Aero woke up in the back seat, and we stumbled into the front door with the camera crew behind us.
“We were wondering when you guys were going to pull over,” Adalee called. “Garett was ready to fall asleep behind the wheel.”
“Next time, flash us or something,” Sloane muttered. Her eyes widened, and she waved her hand. “Your headlights.” It still didn’t sound right. “On your car.” She moved her hand in front of her chest. “Not these headlights.”
“Babe,” Aero chuckled. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her.
Man, those two were really in love.
“They only have two rooms,” Throttle called.
“Uh, we can take one room if you guys take the other,” Garett suggested.
“How many beds?” Adalee asked.
“Two full beds in each,” Throttle called.
“Perfect,” Sloane slurred. “Show me to my room, Gaston.”
Throttle quickly paid for both rooms and handed the camera crew a key. “Second floor. See you in the morning, suckas.”
“Where are we?” Aero asked.
Throttle pointed in the opposite direction the camera crew headed. “First floor, room 2.”
“Two,” Sloane chirped. “Two, two.”
Aero put his arm around Sloane’s shoulders and walked her behind Throttle. “I think she’s getting delirious,” he chuckled.
I was pretty damn tired, too. “Uh, what time do you guys plan on getting back on the road?”
Throttle stopped in front of room two and inserted the keycard. He held open the door, and I skirted around him behind Aero and Sloane.
“I call bathroom first.” Sloane darted into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
“Okay,” I laughed. I guess it had been a little too long since the last pitstop.
Aero dropped his duffel on the floor and stretched his arms over his head. “What time is checkout?” he asked Throttle.
Throttle scrubbed his hands down his scruffy face. “Uh, eleven.”
“Cool. I say we head out at eleven-o-one.”
Throttle clicked his tongue and pointed at Aero. “Sounds like a solid plan to me.”
Oh, thank god. I was really afraid we were only going to get a couple of hours of sleep before they insisted we get back on the road.
Sloane walked out of the bathroom and faceplanted onto the first bed.
“Uh, I guess that’s your bed, huh?” Aero laughed. “You girls can have this one.”
Well, that was a relief. I thought for sure I was going to wind up sleeping with Throttle. Though I was so tired that I really wouldn’t care either way.
I grabbed my bag and headed into the bathroom. I quickly used the bathroom, threw on a pair of sleep shorts, and brushed my teeth.
I must have been in the bathroom longer than I thought because when I walked out, the lights were out, and the room was illuminated only by the TV.
“Uh, Dove?” Aero called.
I dropped my bag by the door and turned, surprised to see Sloane wrapped around Aero in my bed. “Um, okay?”
“She sprung on him like a rabid monkey and dragged him into bed,” Throttle laughed. “He was lying down before either of us knew what the hell was going on.”
“He’s my biker,” Sloane muttered sleepily. “Just sleep with Throttle, Dovey.”
“Dovey?” Throttle chuckled. He was lying on the other bed with his back against the headboard.
“She only calls me that when she wants something from me,” I muttered.
“Look, I can try to move, but I’m pretty sure she’s not letting me go.”
I waved my hand at Aero and shuffled over to the other bed. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t like Throttle and I were in our own bed, locked up alone.
We were both grown adults who could sleep in the same bed without it meaning anything. I grabbed the covers and slipped into bed.
Yes, Throttle was right next to me, but this was fine.
Everything was fine.
“Good night, Dovey,” Sloane called.
I pulled the covers up to my chin and focused on the TV. “Goodnight.”
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” she sighed.
Aero chuckled. “Yeah, we are.”
I sighed and finally relaxed. Sloane and Aero are getting married tomorrow. Who cared if I was in bed with Throttle?
My best friend was going to marry the man of her dreams, and I got to be there.
Throttle slid further into the bed, and his leg brushed against mine.
“Sorry, doll,” he muttered.
“You’re fine,” I whispered. I glanced over at him from the corner of my eye, and my heart raced.
He was shirtless.
Sweet Jesus.
God was punishing me.
My eyes darted back to the TV, and I tried not to think of the shirtless, handsome Throttle six inches away from me.
Sleep did not come easy, even though I was exhausted.
Three and a half episodes of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, I finally fell asleep.
My dreams were filled with Sloane running around in a wedding dress with Aero chasing behind her and a shirtless Throttle lying in wait for me while I tried to keep up with Sloane.
Even in my sleep, I couldn’t get away from Throttle. Right before I woke up, he finally caught me and showed me exactly what his shirtless chest looked like up close.
*
