Rebel

Lexi’s posture softened, and her gaze widened with understanding. “Oooooh. Got it.”



Christ she was sick. Beyond sick, now she was scared. Before now, without Lexi shining a spotlight on every little thing Rubi had done with Wes, she had been able to push them into the background. Now she worried over the message she’d sent Wes by letting the issue slide when she could have reached out of the shower and simply grabbed one from a drawer. Two seconds. Max.



“I want to be different, Rubi.”



He’d been different from the fucking start.



“Scary,” Lexi said, her voice soft with their shared fears. She lifted her hands to indicate the house. “I know.”



“But that’s the difference—you move through it. You live it. I put up walls, create detours. It’s like my feet are stuck in concrete. Wes terrifies me, Lex. He’s… God.” She turned her gaze back out over the city. A knife twisted in Rubi’s chest. Emotions rose and swirled in her head. Anxiety crawled over her skin. Terror closed in. “I can’t do it. I just can’t…”



“Jump?” Lexi drew in a breath that raised her shoulders, then slowly blew it out as she gazed out over LA. “What if we jump together?”



Lexi didn’t wait for Rubi to answer. She pulled her phone from her pocket with one hand and covered Rubi’s hand on the railing with the other. Tapping one number on her phone, she dialed, then touched the Speaker icon.



“You miss me already, don’t you?” Jax’s rich, sexy voice came over the line. “Change your mind about the terrace? I’ll turn around right now.”



The grin that lit up Lexi’s face made Rubi’s heart swell. That was happiness. And seeing Lexi happy thrilled Rubi. She knew Lexi wanted to see Rubi just as happy. She just didn’t think a man was the ticket.



“Yes, I miss you already,” Lexi said. “And yes, I’ve changed my mind about the terrace. But Rubi’s right, we can’t christen it until you own it.”



Lexi’s grip tightened on Rubi’s. Her eyes slid closed, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip. The expression of hope and fear on Lexi’s face mirrored so much of what Rubi felt over Wes.



“Hold on,” Jax said, his voice now tight. After a second, he continued. “I had to pull over. I didn’t want to hyperventilate on the freeway. I thought I just heard you say you wanted to buy that house and live in it with me.”



Lexi’s brow furrowed, and a look of terrified pain came over her face. She released Rubi’s hand and pressed her own to her stomach. “That’s because…”



Rubi laughed and covered her mouth to hold it back. Her eyes swelled with tears.



“I did,” she finally said. “Make an offer, Jax. I love this house. I love you. I want both.”



Lexi opened her eyes and pinned Rubi with a sharp, what-the-fuck-did-I-just-do look. Rubi still had her hand over her mouth, her chest bursting with happiness. Lexi pressed the phone to her body and whispered, “I think I’m going to puke.”



Rubi couldn’t hold back anymore. Laughter rolled out of her. Lexi’s laughter echoed Rubi’s.



Lexi disconnected with an ecstatic Jax, and they finished touring the house. But Rubi couldn’t get Lexi’s earlier words to Jax out of her head: “I need you to push me past these fears, because I don’t want to lose you over them.”



Her own fears could easily ruin something with Wes that she knew in her heart had the potential to be really good.



In the driveway, Rubi hugged Lexi good-bye. When Lexi pulled away, she held Rubi’s arms firmly, her eyes direct. “It’s your turn to jump. Don’t leave me hanging out here by myself.”



“Have I ever left you hanging?”



The smile that beamed across Lexi’s face was filled with giddy excitement. “Keep me posted.” She stepped back, pointed purposefully at Rubi while walking backward toward her car repeating words Rubi had once said to Lexi, not that long ago. “And I want details, girl. Details.”



Rubi didn’t follow Lexi down the hill. Instead, she took out her phone and tapped a message to Wes.



Thirteen



Wes crouched in front of the second of four identical Ducatis he was working with on this series of scenes. The first bike, the one he’d crashed a few days ago, lay alongside the others—a burned-out corpse he would part-out to keep the other three running. Keaton wiped a rag over the handlebars and scrubbed the body until the red paint shone.



“She’s insane,” Keaton said. He’d been droning on about some girl he’d been banging. “She lives alone, but she’s got a two-bedroom apartment, and the extra room’s filled with sex-toy shit. Like…serious…sex-toy shit. I don’t know, man. I mean, I’m up for just about anything, but honestly, this chick kind of freaks me out.”



With the clutch cover removed, Wes listened with one ear and sprayed compressed air over the metal to clear residual dust. The bike groaned every time Wes switched gears, pissing off the audio gurus. And while Wes could pull apart any motorcycle and put it back together drunk, standing on his head, he was having a hard time focusing on a simple clutch clean today. And Keaton’s chatter wasn’t the problem.



His gaze blurred over the machine, and his mind drifted toward Rubi. Toward the sight of her spread out on the kitchen counter. Her wickedly sinful, drool-inducing body smeared with chocolate ice cream. His cock hitched against his jeans, and Wes clenched his teeth.



Ping. Clank.



The can of compressed air hit the concrete, and Wes startled.



“Yeah.” Keaton laughed the word. “I about dropped the lube bottle just like that.”



Wes had no fucking idea what Keaton was talking about, but right now, he didn’t want to know. He was having enough trouble dealing with all the heat tumbling through his body and emotion expanding his heart.



His phone buzzed in his pocket, and his mind jumped to Wyatt. He’d already talked to his mother today, but…



He pushed to his feet and pulled out his phone, thinking a hundred different things. Shock sizzled low in his belly when he saw the text was from Rubi. Her contacting him today…or any day in the next week…was the opposite of what he’d expected.



Don’t get your hopes up, dude.



RUBI: Hey, handsome. Do you have your rig with you or is it at your place?



His mind tried to read ten different meanings into the text. It took him a minute to realize she was talking about the rig for Wyatt. But the fact she’d reached out to him at all had to be a good sign, right?



WES: Baby, I carry my rig everywhere.



“Is that Rubi?” Keaton asked.



“Yeah.”



“She’s kinda out of your league, isn’t she?”



Wes looked up only long enough to shoot the other Renegade a glare.



“Just sayin’.” Keaton held up his hands, palms out. “I can totally see why you went for her, but…not your usual type.”



“I’ve only heard that half a dozen times already.” His phone buzzed again, and he glanced down.



RUBI: Did you find someone to relay that beautiful rig of yours?



His lips twitched up into a cautious grin. Not a “Last night was so hot I can’t wait to have you again,” but Wes would take what he could get.



WES: That’s all you, baby. I don’t want anyone else touching my rig.



“I’m going over to Tommy’s Burgers for lunch,” Keaton said. “Wanna come?”



“Kinda early for lunch, dude.”



“I’ve been up since four. Starting a new workout. I go to this CrossFit gym near my place. Man, those bitches work me into butter. I’m burning so many calories and building so much muscle, I can’t keep weight on.”



“I’m not hungry.” At least not for anything but Rubi. “You go on.”



Keaton tossed down his rag and straightened, stretched. His groan was one of those damn-I’m-sore groans. “All right. I’ll bring you back a burger.”



Wes nodded absently just as Rubi’s message came through.



RUBI: You’re on, but I need that baby in my hands to program it properly.



Wes’s face broke out into a full grin as Keaton turned for the trailer. Current sizzled through his body at Rubi’s flirty innuendo. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have made much out of the comment. But after last night, the fact that she was still flirting with him was another great sign.



WES: Holy shit. My rig’s circuit just blew. You know I can’t work when it’s jacked. Come and fix me up, baby.



RUBI: Do you have time now?



A breathy laugh exited his chest, and Wes swore his heart beat three times in the normal span of one. His cock had already been half-hard just from the memories of the night before. Now it was rubbing his jeans again.



WES: For you? Hell yes.



Wes glanced up, surveying the movement on set. Based on the sketchbook open amid a group including Jax, Duke, Troy, MacKenzie, and three camera guys, and the speed of Jax’s hand moving a pencil over the page, Wes knew they wouldn’t be running the fire scene for at least an hour. His phone buzzed, and he looked back down.



RUBI: Already headed straight for you…and your kick-ass rig.



He drew a slow breath through pursed lips, creating a low whistle. A flutter irritated his belly. He told himself not to get his hopes up. She’d been as clear as glass when she’d told him she fucked guys once and only once. She hadn’t agreed to the friends-with-benefits proposal, and even after the best sex of his life—hopefully hers too—she still hadn’t been sure what she wanted. He wasn’t stupid enough to think she’d change her MO for him. Or after so long. Yet something whispered hope in his ear. Told him what they had was already more than she’d given any other man. And that fact spiraled through his chest, making him both high and horny.



“Wes.” Jax’s irritated voice pulled Wes’s gaze. Even his boss’s bark couldn’t kill his smile. “Are you fucking that phone, or can you give us a minute of your attention here?”



Wes pocketed his phone. He couldn’t say what exactly he’d expected from Rubi after last night, but it wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d tried the whole nothing-happened or even the cold-shoulder routine. He knew he shouldn’t get excited about a few flirty texts, but hell if he could control this inner tornado.



“What’s up?” he asked, wandering toward the men. By the stern looks on their faces, whatever they were talking about couldn’t be good.



Jax waited until everyone but MacKenzie had stepped away from the group and Wes was standing in their small circle. “Rimer’s guru working with Bolton says he’s fucked up.” Jax’s voice lowered. “He’s starting a two-week crash rehab program Monday. It’s not a solution but a temporary fix to get Bolton through the movie. We’re going to have to revamp the filming schedule.”



The implications of that unraveled in Wes’s mind, and anger heated his gut. “Dude, that’s going to leave me sitting on my hands. It’s going to mess up my break to go see Wyatt.”