Page 48 of The Price of Love

I hold the slow signal until the bikes are gone, then I flip my palm up. Come on, let’s run. I hear the roar of the engines behind me, so I accelerate harder.

At the higher speed, the chill in the spring air is more evident, and the freshness fills my lungs. We hit seventy. Eighty. By the time we hit ninety, the rest of the formation comes into view. We speed toward them. Before long, I realize we’re gaining on them faster than I expect, so I drop back to eighty—then seventy.

We slip back into position a half mile from city limits, and Storm raises her fist in victory. Several horns blast from behind me, signifying the girls appreciate my efforts. I let out my own battle cry. I’m not sure if anyone hears or if it gets lost in the wind, but damn, it feels good.

As soon as we roll into the lot on the other side of Lake George, Wiz marches toward us.

“Uh-oh,” Storm says under her breath as she removes her helmet. “You’re in trouble.”

I grin. “You’re the president. Not my fault you can’t control your club.”

Storm laughs.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Wiz says as she stomps up.

Storm gives her a crooked grin. “Dimples just told me a really funny joke.”

“She did, did she?” Wiz’s face is beet red. “What was it?”

Without missing a beat, Storm says, “Knock. Knock.”

“Oh, fuck you, Storm,” Wiz says, and I half expect to see spittle flying from her mouth.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Shadow approaching with a deck of cards. Amusement dances in her eyes, but her expression is stoic.

Wiz turns to me and points. “Don’t either of you ever pull a stunt like that again, or—”

“What?” I give her my best innocent look. “Tail end got loose for a minute. Did you want us to leave her behind?”

“Yeah,” Rouge says and puts her arm over Jazmin’s shoulder. “The prospect was having trouble with her gears.”

“Really?” Wiz eyes Rouge suspiciously. “And magically her gears corrected themselves?”

“User error,” Rouge says with a straight face. “You know how prospects are.”

Jazmin hangs her head and looks at the ground. “Sorry. Coming out of that curve threw me. I thought I was supposed to downshift.”

I nearly burst out laughing, but I hold it together.

“Damn it, Prospect, how many times do I have to tell you? Accelerate out of the curve,” Storm says, raising her voice. She looks at Wiz and rolls her eyes. “Prospects nowadays.”

Wiz is still looking between Storm and Jazmin, trying to find a crack in their game.

Jazmin looks up wide-eyed. “Does that mean I’m gonna haveta peel more potatoes?”

Jesus. I’m gonna lose it. Jazmin is playing it perfectly.

“Damn right.” Storm puts her hand on her hip. “And we’re making potato soup for the ladies’ auxiliary next week, so you’re gonna be peeling a lot of fucking potatoes.”

“Accelerate out of the curve,” Jazmin mutters. “Got it, Pres.”

Crap. Crap. It’s getting harder to keep a straight face. I bite the inside of my cheek.

Storm turns to Wiz. “She won’t fuck up your run again.” Then a mischievous twinkle dances in her eyes. “But I thought you would’ve sent a scout to check if we were okay.”

Wiz’s nostrils flare. She looks around like she’s wanting to escape and spots Shadow. She points and says, “Hand out the damn poker cards.” Then she turns and stomps off.

We stand there like guilty schoolchildren, waiting to see who will crack first. Shadow is biting down hard on her lip, while Storm’s upper lip trembles. Jazmin is the only one holding it together, but mischief dances in her eyes.