Page 149 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

“Miss me?”

“No.”

He grins wider. “That’s the warmth I come here for.”

Hank is openly staring.

Ashby glances at him. “You must be the prodigy.”

Hank straightens instantly. “I… uh…”

“Relax,” Ashby says, laughing. “It’s good to meet you, buddy.”

Ashby turns back to me and gestures at the bike.

“She’s behaving too well,” he says. “I don’t trust it.”

I walk a slow circle around it, hands light on the tank.

“You changed the intake,” I say.

He nods. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Still sounds polite.”

“Exactly my issue.”

Ashby leans against the workbench, settling in for a story.

“I need something more than polite,” he says. “This bike’s got potential, but right now, she’s all looks and no bite.”

“You want loud?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“I want a machine that makes an entrance. I want it to say, ‘Fuck you,’ before I even hit the gas.”

I crouch by the rear suspension. “You riding between cities again?”

“When I can,” he says. “I don’t mind the work, but the ride? That’s where the magic happens. You know that part.”

“You sleeping at all?” I ask without looking up.

He huffs a laugh. “You my mechanic or my therapist?”

I stand up slowly, not missing a beat. “Maybe both.”

He chuckles, a low sound that matches the grumble of the bike’s engine.

“Alright,” I say, moving to the front of the bike. “Performance or aesthetic? What are we aiming for here?”

Ashby folds his arms across his chest, scanning the bike, eyes narrowing, mentally breaking it down.

“Both,” he says, firmly. “I don’t want to look like I just rolled off the showroom floor, but I don’t want to be drowning in chrome, either. I want it clean. Mean. Make it mine.”

I nod, already imagining the mock-up in my head.

“Alright,” I say. “You’re looking at a complete overhaul. We’ll start with the suspension… needs to be dialed for your weight. I’m thinking custom pipes, deep growl. I can build those in-house.”

Ashby watches me carefully now. “Paint?”