Alpha Knight

Chapter 1-4

Bo

I purposely scare her because I’m a d**k.

I’m a d**k, and I f*****g love making her scream and cling to me for dear life every time I take off too fast.

I also don’t mind the way it feels having her snug against my back, her slender arms squeezing in on my ribs every time I lean into a turn.

I’m pretty sure I just heard her mutter, you suck, the last time I wove through the lanes of traffic to get ahead.

Serves her right. She’s trouble, this one, and she’s dragging my brother into it with her.

“Where to?” I ask when we get down to Cave Hills.

“5th and Davidson.” She attempts to pry her own hands from me, but I g*n the bike, and she seizes me again.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” she accuses, balling her fists up in the front of my shirt.

She knows what’s up. I guess to be a car thief, you’d have to be pretty smart. Or else pretty dumb. But she doesn’t strike me as dumb. I saw enough wariness on her face when she was talking to Winslow to know she understands the risks.

I take her to 5th and Davidson. “Now where?”

I half expect her to just get off and not show me where she lives, but she gives me directions to her house. Turns out she doesn’t live in one of the many million-dollar homes that make up the wealthy community north of Scottsdale. She’s in a townhouse—a nice one—but not that big.

“Right here,” she says, pointing. She swings her long leg off the bike and tries to unbuckle the helmet with shaking fingers.

“What’s the story with the Porsche?” I ask her point-blank, watching her fumble and not offering my help this time.

I know Winslow isn’t going to tell me, and I’m looking for confirmation.

“It’s my dad’s,” she says. “He’s out of town, and I put a dent in it. Your brother said he’d help me fix it without him finding out.”

“I didn’t see a dent.”

“He already fixed it. Now it just needs a little paint.” She tears at the straps of the helmet, like I’m holding her hostage with them. “Your brother said he’d get it fixed by tomorrow.”

Yeah, right. Total bullshit, of course.

She manages to get it unclasped and yanks the helmet off, tossing out her long thick hair.

I don’t want to be stunned by how gorgeous she is up close. I’m looking for some flaw. Some irregularity that can make me dismiss her. But even the large mole on her cheek looks like it was put there just to make her more tempting to guys. Or girls who like girls. Or yeah, pretty much anyone with a pulse.

She doesn’t look like she belongs in high school. This girl has probably been frequenting college parties since the day she hit puberty. She’s all that.

And I can’t f*****g stand her for it.

“Thanks for the ride, Bo.” She thrusts the helmet at me.

“I didn’t catch your name.” I ignore the helmet. She seems to be in a huge hurry to get away, and I’m not going to make it easy for her.

“I didn’t throw it.” She nudges my belly with the helmet, and when I still ignore it, she lets it go and turns on her heel.

I stoop to catch it before it hits the ground. “You don’t have to be a cunt,” I call out after her. Not because I think she is one—although I’m not ruling it out—I say it more to see if it gets a rise out of her.

It does.

She whirls, her face flushing. “Nice,” she nods, walking backward. “Real nice.”

I grin because seeing her mad gets my d**k hard. “I don’t do nice. See you tomorrow, I guess? Will her highness require a pick up?”

I’m watching for a flush or proof of her lie, but she’s too good for that. She just flips me the bird as she turns around and unlocks the front door.

Definitely trouble, that one.

And there won’t be any talking to Winslow about it. Or stopping him.

I commit her house number to memory. If anything happens to Winslow as a result of this bullshit, I will come down here and rip that entitled Cave Hills b***h apart.

Right after I put her on her knees in front of my open fly.