6
“Are you ready?”
Sitting in the back of Noon’s car, Harlow heard Maze’s question and looked to him peering over the shoulder of the front passenger seat. Except he wasn’t talking to her, he was focused on the man at her side who seemed preoccupied by the sight of her thighs.
Squeezing his hand that was locked in hers, Harlow drew his attention. “He’s not talking to me, Crash,” she said, wearing a smile.
“Yeah, I can trust Nightingale to keep her head,” Maze said, scowling at his friend. “Where’s yours at?”
Ryske was raw, vibrating with need. “That skirt is f*****g short,” he murmured.
The observation wasn’t a judgement. It was more resigned than that. They’d been twined around each other on the drive, so her arm already overlapped his. Sliding her shoulder blade across his chest, g
