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“Are you okay, Sasha?”
God, his voice. It’s so deep and warm, slowly making it hard for me to forget that I can only have this for a single night. I can only be a reckless twenty-one-year-old for one night.
“I’m all right,” I tell him, dropping my head on his back as we tear out of the parking lot. I catch a glimpse of a couple making out not far from the spot we were earlier, and my cheeks flare at the thought of them hearing us.
Perhaps we even fueled them into getting it on with each other.
I smile at the thought, reveling in the feel of the cool night air brushing my skin. The night is crisp and the city lights twinkle like stars above us. I notice the shadows dancing on the buildings, the full moon, everything passing in a blur. The moment is peaceful, and as the quiet of the night envelopes me, I feel a sense of calm.
Riot mentioned that the food truck was close by, but it takes us about fifteen minutes to get there, and I point this out to him when we stop.
He flashes me that self-assured smirk as he guides me into a line. “I may have detoured a bit. You seemed to be enjoying the ride,” he says, placing his hand on the small of my back.
“Oh, it was a smooth ride. I’ve always seen the motorcycles around the city, but I never imagined I would ever get on one.” I’m glad I did tonight.
“Happy to be your first,” he says, and from the smug note in his voice, I know we’re not talking only talking about motorcycle rides anymore.
When it’s finally our turn to order, I look up at the menu hung on the truck and chew on my lip. I hate to sound like the spoiled rich girl whose never been out in the world, but the truth is, it’s not far from the truth. So much has been done for or handed to me in my life, but only so that no one has to bother with me. I might be spoiled, but I’m rarely trusted to make my own choices. Now that I’m finally living independently, that has changed a bit, but my life still revolves around school, work, and family. I only really go out when my attendance is demanded by my parents for some function or other.
“Would you like my help picking something?” Riot whispers into my ear, sending heat licking up my body.
“Please,” I tell him. He did pick my cocktail. What was it called again, a Shirley Temple? And I liked that one.
“How are you with spice?” he asks, crowding my back, and I gasp when I feel the firm press of his erection against my ass.
“I can handle a little spice, not too much.”
Riot nods as he turns to the bearded man at the counter and names a variety of dishes I should perhaps pay attention to so I know what I’m eating, but I can’t look away from Riot. In the clear light, his chiseled jaw is a thing of beauty, but it’s those eyes . . .
I notice something I hadn’t earlier. They’re gray, the kind of gray one sees in the sky on a stormy afternoon.
“Do you need anything else?” Riot asks, his eyes shifting to mine, and it takes me a second to process the fact that he is speaking to me.
“No, uhm, no.”
“Okay, good.” I watch him take out his wallet and pay for the meal before grabbing the boxed food. I follow him away from the truck to an empty bench. My stomach growls when we open the box, and a part of me wants to save face, but I am starved. “Dig in,” he says a little too late with a chuckle at my full mouth.
I don’t know what I was expecting from an establishment on wheels, but it sure was not this. My eyes widen to saucers as flavors explode in my mouth. I don’t even care to ask what it is I am eating as I stuff my face with one thing after another, and the embarrassment doesn’t settle in until I am full. “Sorry,” I say, my cheeks flushing when I catch Riot watching me. He hasn’t had a single bite of his food.
“It’s pretty refreshing, seeing this side of you,” he tells me, reaching over and brushing his thumb on the side of my lips. “You are a fascinating girl, Sasha.”
I duck my head and turn to look around us, watching other couples seated on the benches, eating and laughing, and I have the sudden wish that all my nights ended with way.
It’s impossible, I know, but a girl can wish.
When I turn back to look at Riot, there is no ignoring the deep ache filled with longing that settles inside of me, and it stays for the rest of our time together. And later, when he drops me off at my apartment, I hug him a little longer than I probably should.
Unlike Cinderella, I’ll only have this one night to live out my fantasy. Riot is no prince, and my life certainly isn’t a fairytale.
Chapter Five
Riot
I can feel my twin brother’s eyes on the back of my neck as I check his bike. When he brought it to the garage earlier, I was worried that something was wrong with it, but after a quick onceover, I realized that he’s just using the bike as an excuse.
Of course, I could make it easy and ask what’s bothering him, but well, I have never done the easy thing. So, I play his game, running all the diagnostics on his bike and wasting both our time until he’s practically vibrating with impatience.
Cash is a very patient man, but when you share the womb with someone, you develop an innate ability to know just which buttons to push to send them over the edge.
