Thea
The heavy, rhythmic rumble of Miles’s Harley echoed through the quiet street as he pulled up to the curb right outside Sam’s garage.
The ride back from the racetrack had been a blur of rushing wind and silent, electric tension.
My arms had remained firmly wrapped around his waist, my chest pressed against his back, and neither of us had made any move to create distance between us.
The way he had stepped between me and Ivy still hung in the air, wrapping around us like a heavy, invisible blanket.
Miles killed the engine and planted his heavy boots on the asphalt. I unbuckled the matte black helmet, slipped it off my head, and swung my leg over the rear seat, my boots crunching softly on the gravel.
"Thanks for the ride," I murmured, handing the helmet back to him. I desperately
