“And you’re pissed why?”
Glancing at Nick next to the bench, I noticed his shirt was too tight around his chest and loose around his narrow waist. If he was mine, I would fix it and maybe feel him up a little. Instead, I glared at him like he was a piece of shit. I blamed Nick for making me hate him.
“You suck.”
“Okay, but why now?”
“You’ll never have Farah. I mean, it’s not like she’s going to leave my hot, rich, stud brother, so she can slum it with you.”
Nick studied me, showing no emotion in his bright green eyes. He could be examining something on the heel of his shoe. His disinterest pissed me off. Hell, I hated him for not jumping me that very moment.
Glancing down, I admired my boobs jutting from my chest. What was his problem? I was hot. Maybe not blowjob lips hot. Or broken little girl needing a savior hot. Simply a rich girl with great fake boobs hot. Any other guy would at least give them a quick peek. Not Nick though.
“You smell like bacon,” I muttered, standing up. “I hate you for that.”
“Bacon?” he asked, walking towards the parking lot as if I wasn’t standing right there. “I shower more than once a day. I shouldn’t stink.”
“You ate a bacon hamburger or something,” I said, rushing after him as he dumped his backpack onto the back of his shiny red Harley. “You smelled like bacon and I love bacon. I think you did that on purpose.”
“Probably,” he said, taking my backpack and shoving it next to his. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
Nick climbed on the Harley then focused his gaze on my face. “Do you care?”
I didn’t dare smile or give away the happy dance happening inside me. Shrugging as if bored, I climbed on behind him. My attempt at playing it cool ended when I wrapped my arms around his hard stomach. I’d dreamed of this moment a million times, but reality was better.
When I sighed, Nick became very still. Emotionless, distant, dead to me, he glanced over his shoulder with a look of concern.
“Do you need a helmet?”
Balking, I prepared to remind him I was Bailey Fucking Johansson. Before I ranted, Nick smiled and I realized he was messing with me.
“Don’t let go,” he said, turning on the bike.
His words felt like more than a suggestion about safety. They were the request of a man needing me. I really liked the thought of him suffering without me. Resting my cheek against his back, I imagined the dragon tattoo hidden under his shirt.
Nick drove us to the Hog House on the outskirts of Ellsberg. The dive only served pork, so I assumed this was where he ate the bacon I smelled on him after lunch one day. I slid off the back of his Harley and fixed my shirt. When I looked up, Nick was standing over me with a strange expression on his sexy face.
I thought he might say something rude or tell me I had a booger. Instead, he cupped my face, leaned down, and sucked at my lower lip. Happening so fast, I barely had time to savor his kiss before it was over.
Nick stepped back and ran his fingers through his dark hair. I tried to play cool, but I wanted another kiss. Preferably a longer one leading to us naked somewhere. I hadn’t been with a guy in a long time and I’d been dreaming about Nick for even longer.
“So you like me?” I said, placing my hands on my hips and frowning up at him.
“I like bacon too. Let’s get something to eat.”
Before I could respond, Nick took my hand and tugged me towards the loud little outdoors restaurant. He found us a picnic table then waited until I sat down before sitting across from me.
“I’ve been trying to bulk up,” he said, glancing over the menu. “Eating a lot of protein helps.”
“For your fighting?” I asked, wanting him to look at me.
Nick nodded, but his gaze never found mine. “Hurts less when I have bulk between their fists and my bones.”
“Do you like fighting?”
“I like making money,” Nick said, looking up at our waitress. “Can I get a Bud and a Coke?”
She wrote down his order then looked at me. “Sprite.”
As the chick walked away, I nearly grabbed Nick’s face and forced his eyes on me. He studied the menu again, ignoring me. Every ounce of self-control kept me from kicking him under the table.
“I heard you were dating a girl from town,” I said, setting aside my menu. “Anyone I know? I don’t want a pissed off bitch showing up and punching me in the face.”
Nick finally looked at me. His gaze was soft, tired maybe. Giving me a little grin, he returned his gaze to the menu.
“People say she’s a stuck up bitch, but I think she’s funny.”
“What’s her name?” I muttered, tearing my napkin under the table.