Danielle POV
The ride to the club is fast, quick enough that the wind never even has a chance to settle. Knox rides like he does everything else, confident, reckless, and in full control. I cling to him, my chest pressed to his back, my fingers hooked into the bottom of his cut. I can feel the tension in his body the whole way, like if we were anywhere else, he’d already have me bent over something and forgetting how to speak.
When the gates open and the bike rolls through, the compound looks a little different than the night before. There’s more light spilling from the clubhouse windows, more movement, more noise. The lot’s got half a dozen bikes lined up already, and the low beat of music drifts out as Knox parks near the front.
The moment we stop, Knox kills the engine and swings his
