Rush (Carolina Bad Boys, #5)(4)

“Handsome.”

Prep school pretty boy. The perfect one to take the fall because big money Daddy would always bail him out.

Until he hadn’t.

Not a shocker.

I’d been stupid.

My dad had been a hardliner.

Water under the bridge I’d never cross again.

“I heard you were disowned.” Shiloh toyed with the rim of her glass but her gaze never left mine.

Everyone in the bar paid extreme attention to our quiet conversation even though they covered up their bald interest with the usual trash-talking tactics.

“Don’t really discuss that around here, Shy.”

Aware we were being watched by hawkeyes all around, I shoved my chair back. “Say goodbye to Sadie now because I’m taking you home.”

“You didn’t used to be so bossy.”

“Welcome to the new me.” But I pulled her chair back, and when she stood only to stumble, I steadied her with my hand on her waist.

“You okay?” I asked.

Her cheeks flushed bright. “Yes.” She glanced away. “Just lost my footing a little.”

I snickered. “Not surprised with those shoes combined with the booze.”

“Complaining about the heels?”

I rubbed the side of my jaw. “Not sure I should answer that.”

My eyes slit at her as she swayed over to Sadie and the gathered crew, collecting hugs and fucking kisses everywhere she went.

An MC babe she’d never be. And I’d make goddamn good and sure of that. But the ghosts she stirred up I’d have to lay to rest again. And again. And again.

Clasping Shy’s elbow, I led her into the muggy May night. “Did you drive?”

“Uber.”

“Because that’s not shady at all.” I growled, tugging her toward my vintage Harley Panhead, slowing down when she missed another step.

“I know how much you like speed.” She fit the helmet on her head with quick motions like a pro. “I had a Vespa in Italy.”

“This isn’t a Vespa, Shy.”

Straddling the bike, she hugged me around my middle, pressed right up against my back. “Remember the first time you took me for a ride?”

“Yeah. You almost made me wipeout, and your dad had a fucking conniption.” With the motor revving, I peeled out of the parking lot. “Hold tight, Shy.”

I didn’t need to remind her. The woman—the girl, I corrected myself—seemed to have no problem slanting with every dip and curve.

As we cruised over the giant Ravenel Bridge so high over Cooper River, Shy tightened her thighs around me long enough to let go of my waist for just a few seconds, throwing her arms into the air and her head back as her free laughter floated to my ears.

She gripped me again, stronger, closer, and a thrilling sensation worked through my body as the bike purred between my thighs.

Remarkable.

Shiloh.

The thunder of my Harley echoed the thunder of high cresting waves when I tore down The Battery on Charleston Bay. Big houses—antebellum mansions—stood like fancy as fuck sentinels behind White Point Garden where Civil War canons pointed out to sea.

I killed the engine in front of one of the most well-maintained, majestic stone piles. The Chathams on one side. And fuck my life forever, my folks’ huge house on the other.

“You’re staying here?” I waited for her Shy to dismount then got off after her.

“Just until my apartment is finished. I’m redecorating.”

“You know, Tail’s pretty good with the painting and shit.” Then I wished I’d kept my damn mouth shut.

No way did I want her hanging around Tail. The dude was a known skirt-chaser and an unapologetic pussy hound.

Not that I wasn’t.

Well, chicks usually fell into my lap, no chasing needed.

I shuffled my hands through my hair.

“Come inside? My parents would love to see you again.” Shy lifted her big silvery eyes.

And I met a gaze I couldn’t turn away from.

Big mistake . . .

Her hand folded inside mine, soft and warm. Her scent again filled my senses, and she roamed closer. Too close.

Close enough her heat called to mine. And her freshness awakened something I’d denied so fucking long.

Her lips curved, lush pink crescents. “You really are handsome, Max.”

A jolt, unwanted, hit me low and hard and too fast.

“I don’t want you coming back to the MC.” At the sound of my gruff voice, her eyelashes shuttered down. “Not a safe place for a girl like you.”

Suddenly her chin thrust up. “And I don’t think you have any right to give me orders.”

I glanced from her to the house next door, separated by a tall brick wall and iron gates we’d passed through many a night. A threshold I couldn’t cross again.

My phone rang, and I dug it out, staring anywhere but at Shy.

Saved by the fucking iPhone.

I answered the ringing cell, turning my head away from Shy. Listened to the voice on the other end.

“She is?” I asked.

Boomer—my midnight caller—replied in the affirmative.

“Holy shit.” I tucked my phone away, a grin chasing my lips.

“Good news?” Shiloh stood uncertainly in front of me.