Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“There’ll be revenge for this,” Remy warns. “Mark my words.”
“Yes, yes.” I wave a hand at him. “Get to it, you don’t have all day.”
With a growl, he gets to it. They all do, climbing up on the car hoists and getting the tools down one by one. By the time they’re done, I’m finished with the car and it’s ready to go. The garage opens just as Hugh is getting the last tool down. I wipe my hands on a rag and look at them. “Great job, guys. I must admit, it looked pretty rough up there.”
Remy glares at me, walking closer and leaning in. “This isn’t over.”
I lean in, too, until we’re nearly nose to nose. “I’m looking forward to it.”
He growls and spins on his heel, opening the garage doors to the two customers already waiting with their cars.
I keep my grin the entire day. The guys get right back into with little disruption to their day, but I get a whole lot of glares thrown in my direction. They’re all pissed, all their tools are mixed up and they’ve been constantly swapping with each other to try and get them all back in the right place. I’ve been enjoying every damned moment of it, watching with a smile on my face. Like a Cheshire cat.
“You better wipe that smile off your face, kid,” Remy mutters, walking past me. “It’s irritating as fuck.”
“So easily agitated.” I grin.
He gives me a look. “Get over here and help me lift this out.”
He points to a heavy part that needs to come out of a car. I walk over and together we maneuver it out. “I guess,” I grunt, “if you just told me I’m good at my job, we might not have these kinds of issues.”
“Never goin’ to happen,” he mutters, his biceps straining as we place it on the ground.
God damn, man is fine.
“When is your next club cookout thing?” I ask, helping him move the part out of the way now it’s on the floor.
“Why?” he asks, voice tight.
“Ah, because I really want to go to one.”
“This weekend,” he mutters.
“Oh, how awesome!”
He gives me another look. “Are you always so fuckin’ excited about everything?”
I nod. “Mostly, yeah.”
“Fuck me.”
“You only live once, my friend. Anyway, lunch time.”
He watches me as I go. I flick him a smile.
Into the biker clubhouse to start gathering some information.
Mission one, complete.
5
I MEAN, YES.
This party is epic.
I knew the parties thrown by the club were good, but this is something else. This is a rager and a half. There are people everywhere, drinks, drugs, sex, and a whole lot of fucking crazy. I love every single thing about it, even though I really shouldn’t. I promised myself my partying days were over, but this brings back some fond memories of the times I let myself go crazy.
I’m better now, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy the shit out of this night.
I move through the crowd of people, following Eve who knows exactly where she’s going. She finds a spot where we can sit down, and Ramona joins us a few minutes later. Poppy will be here soon, but she’s not happy about having to attend a party and staying sober. Can’t say I blame her—with all these people enjoying themselves, it would be hard.
“So, what do you think? Is it everything you imagined?” Eve asks me.
“Oh my god, yes. This is awesome!”
“If you go down a few halls, you’ll see people fucking. It’s insane later in the night. I do it for a good laugh.” Ramona grins.
“That’s bad ass, and creepy, and I love it.” I chuckle. “I’m in.”
“Seriously, drunken sex is hilarious to watch.” Eve nods. “I don’t think they understand how their moaning sounds.”
I giggle. “God, I can imagine. I’ll be going in for that one later.”
“The drunken sex or the watching?” Ramona wiggles her brows.
“Both if I’m lucky!”
We drink and dance and, my god, I haven’t enjoyed myself like this in years. Busting to pee, I move away from the crowds of people and toward the bathroom. They really do need to reconsider the bathroom situation, it’s always full and, honestly, there are a lot of people here. One is just not enough. I wait in the line, hopping from side to side, when Remy walks past with a woman attached to his arm.
I haven’t seen him yet, and he stops in surprise when his eyes land on me. “The fuck are you hoppin’ around like that for?”
“I need to pee, if you must know,” I squeak, becoming desperate.
He grins. The girl on his arm looks me over and then looks up at him. “Who is that?”
“She works with me.”
“She’s a mechanic?” she scowls.
“Yes, for your information, I am a mechanic. When they wouldn’t accept me on America’s Next Top Model I had no other choice but to turn to grease, since then, my life has been fulfilled.”