Reckless Temptations (Tempted #4)(13)

I shook my head. It was one thing for me to ask him for help with my car, a desperate plea on my behalf, but I wouldn’t take a cent from Anthony. After I quit the nursing program I had to give up the paid housing—a perk of having an all-expenses paid education. That’s how I became Mia’s roommate. I had to become an adult, and being an adult, well, it kind of sucked.

There was a knock on the door, pulling me away from my thoughts and Anthony away from his worried stare down.

“Come in,” he bellowed.

The girl who was crawling around the floor in front of Riggs popped into my brother’s office, waving my phone in the air.

“Sorry to interrupt Mr. Anthony,” she smiled. Oh, poor thing she obviously hasn’t met Mrs. Anthony yet. It might be worth extending my stay just to see Adrianna’s reaction to this girl. She turned her eyes to me.

“How’d you get my phone?” I asked, stepping toward her and snatching my phone from her hand.

“You left it at the front desk,” she bit her lip. “It keeps going off, someone named Tiger seems desperate to get in touch with you,” she added sweetly, before turning to my brother and flashing him a smile.

I felt Anthony come up behind me and peer over my shoulder at my phone.

“Who’s Tiger?”

I had no idea who Tiger was, but that was for me to find out not my overprotective, sometimes overbearing, older brother. I shoved the phone into my pocket, turned on my heel and rose on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Glad we had this talk,” I said hastily, before turning and heading out of the office. “I’ve got to go.”

“Lauren,” he called out as I closed the door to the office and hurried through the gym. I made it out the door without a hitch, meaning no unnecessary run-ins with a certain hot biker. I didn’t pull my phone out of my pocket until I was halfway down the block and sure my brother hadn’t followed me.

My phone definitely was blowing up, eight unread text messages from...Tiger. I walked toward the train station as I opened the messages.

Tiger: Guess who?

Tiger: Do you need a hint?

Tiger: I’m a tiger in the bedroom.

Tiger: Not that you would know that. Yet. But you could imagine.

Tiger: Tell me Kitten, do you imagine the things I could do to you?

Tiger: I bet that’s why you aren’t answering me. Take your hand out of your pants Kitten, let Tiger do the job.

Tiger: Shit. I’m just joking.

Tiger: Sort of.

My lips quirked in amusement. Hot and funny…my dream guy. My fingers worked the keyboard of my phone to reply.

Me: How did you get my number and more importantly how did yours become saved in my phone?

The little gray cloud appeared, signaling that he was typing his reply and for some reason, unknown to me, that made me smile again.

Tiger: Wouldn’t you like to know. A man never tells his secrets. Where are you?

Me: Maybe the right woman was never around to try.

I hit send, looked up to see what street I was on before typing a text in reply to his second question.

Me: 86th and 23rd Ave. Walking to the train.

Tiger: Why no car?

Me: It blew up.

I wished it had, at least then I’d have an insurance check to buy another piece of crap car.

I glanced up, looking both ways before I crossed the intersection and stopped in my tracks when I looked across the street and saw Riggs leaning against his bike with his phone in his hand and a devilish grin on his face. I’m pretty sure my ovaries exploded.

My phone chimed, and I tore my eyes from that sinful grin of his and read the last text message he sent me.

Tiger: Want a ride, Kitten?

My teeth sank into my lower lip and I lifted my eyes to his, managing to ignore the cars passing that threatened to obscure my view of him.

I wanted more than just a ride on the back of his bike.

I crossed the street, tucking my phone back into my pocketbook and watched as he shoved his into his pocket.

“Are you following me?” I said, standing in front of him, realizing he saw every one of my reactions to each text. He saw me smile and knew he was the reason for it.

“Me? Never!” He scoffed. “I’d never invade someone’s privacy,” he insisted with a straight face. He took the helmet hanging from the handlebars and offered it to me.

“What do you say? It beats having to ride the train,” he said.

“Says who?” I replied, trying my best not to give away how much I wanted to take him up on his offer.

“Says any girl who ever wrapped their legs around me,” he stated, fitting the helmet onto my head and tightening the chin strap. “Looks good on you, “nurse make me feel good,”” he teased, before throwing his leg over his bike and glancing back over his shoulder at me. “Get on, Kitten.”

I stared at him for a moment, watching as he revved the engine of the bike and how easily his foot kicked up the kickstand. It was so tempting, something I always wanted to do. I could argue, going for a ride with Riggs was just a check off my bucket list, but the more I stared at the man and not the bike, the more I wanted to because of him and not some silly fantasy.

“Are you always this crazy?” I asked, walking closer to him.

“I prefer the term colorful,” he winked. “Place one hand on my shoulder and throw your leg over, then place your feet on the pegs but be careful of the exhaust pipe.”