Page 234 of Bend

I’ve raced in it. Sweated through it. Sworn inside my helmet while wearing it.

I even took my first podium in it two weeks ago, which I might’ve handled with slightly more maturity if Talon hadn’t finished behind me. There is a picture on Bex’s phone of me standing on the podium holding up two fingers in his direction.

It was totally worth it though.

A hand catches the back of my leathers and pulls me backward just before I walk directly into a tire cart.

“Jesus, pretty girl. Eyes up.”

I glance over my shoulder and find Draygon staring down at me, one eyebrow raised while his hand moves from the back of my suit to my waist.

“I saw it.”

“You were three inches from eating shit.”

“I was testing your reflexes.”

“Bullshit.”

“Passed, though.”

The corner of his mouth moves, and something warm settles beneath my ribs because he looks good.

Not fake good. Not I slept three hours but nobody needs to know that good. Actually good.

Thorne comes around the next bay while tugging his glove into place with his teeth, hair a complete fucking mess because apparently getting a haircut is beneath him during race season. His eyes land on Draygon’s hand at my waist and narrow with immediate offense.

“Oi. You planning on hogging our woman all bloody morning, mate, or do the rest of us get a turn?”

Draygon barely looks at him. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, well, some of us have standards and need more than thirty seconds to get dressed.” Thorne steps right into my space before I can say anything, hooks both hands beneath my thighs and lifts me clean off the ground like I weigh absolutely nothing.

“Thorne!”

He grins when my arms automatically lock around his shoulders. “There she is.”

“You’re supposed to be getting ready.”

“I am ready.” His gaze drops deliberately over my leathers before coming back to my face, that cocky little smile getting worse. “Just needed a proper look first.”

I roll my eyes, but he’s already pulling me closer.

“Christ,” he murmurs, quieter now, one hand settling against my ass to keep me up. “Don’t think I’m ever getting tired of seeing you in these leathers, love. Bloody unfair, innit?”

“Pretty sure Andre would disagree.”

“Andre’s got no taste.”

Then he kisses me.

I melt into him as his mouth moves over mine slowly, his thumb brushing against my hip while Draygon makes absolutely no effort to pretend he isn’t watching.

When Thorne finally pulls back, he keeps me against him for another second, forehead nearly touching mine.

“Much better.”

“You done?”