She picks up her drink and begins to suck hard on her straw, like she wants that drink to swallow her whole.

Feeling eyes on us, I look over her shoulder to see her girls heading our way, watching suspiciously.

“Well, Shirley, your friends are on their way to rescue you from the big, bad wolf. It was a nice chat. Enjoy your night.” I turn to walk away, but she reaches out to grab me.

“Shirley?” she questions, making me smile as I fight not to laugh.

“You haven’t given me your name. That’s a guy’s cue to walk away.”

“Oh.” She blows out a breath. “My name is”—she hesitates—“Ashlynn. Sorry, for being … ummm”—she pauses and looks down—“bitchy… being bitchy. I’m just not used to a hot guy dancing with me and trying to buy me drinks without a hidden agenda.”

I smile at her. “You think I’m hot? Well, that’s a start.” I lean back against the bar as her friends approach.

The three girls settle in behind Ashlynn, and one of them whispers in her ear, but with the noise around me, I can’t discern what is being shared. Ashlynn nods her head and smiles before her friends retreat back to the dance floor.

“Did I pass the inspection?”

“I suppose so.” She smiles, erasing the tension. “I was burned pretty badly before, so my girls are just looking out.”

“I understand completely.” Reaching out, I twist her hair around my fingers. “Beautiful woman, someone has to keep an eye out for you.”

She blushes and eases into the conversation. We spend a little time chatting, but the offer to exchange numbers isn’t extended before her friends decide to leave. Calling it a night, I head out myself.

I wish women as beautiful as her didn’t have to feel so bad about themselves. With a bright smile, long hair, and curves for days, why would she not think she is gorgeous? Someone somewhere along the way did a number on her.

Shaking my head, I climb on my 2002 Honda 954 custom sport bike then don my helmet, pushing aside my thoughts of women and the damage so easily inflicted on their confidence. As I pull away into traffic, I lean back, pop the clutch out, and throttle down until my front comes up. The rush of the wheelie calms my nerves and releases my day as I safely bring the bike down and make my way home.

One ride, one rush, and one life—live every moment to the fullest and give back as hard as you get. The pavement is an unforgiving beast like demons from the past, so release and feel the rush as you leave it all behind.

The story continues in Lance (Roughneck Shorts 3 – available on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited). Also available through all retailers in the Roughneck Shorts Box Set. http://amzn.to/1VMspcl

Visit Chelsea at

www.authorchelseacamaron.com

or

www.facebook.com/authorchelseacamaron

Table of Contents

Chapter 1—Catarina

Chapter 2—Jag

Chapter 3—Catarina

Chapter 4—Catarina

Chapter 5—Jag

Chapter 6—Catarina

Chapter 7—Jag

Chapter 8—Catarina

Chapter 9—Jag

Chapter 10—Jag

Chapter 11—Catarina

Chapter 12—Catarina

Chapter 13—Jag

Chapter 14—Catarina

Chapter 15—Jag

Chapter 16—Jag

Chapter 17—Catarina

Chapter 18—Jag

Chapter 19—Jag

Chapter 20—Catarina

Chapter 21—Jag

Chapter 22—Catarina

Chapter 23—Jag

Epilogue—Catarina

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Excerpt of Angel’s Halo (Angel’s Halo MC) by Terri Anne Browning

Excerpt of Lance (Roughneck Series) by Chelsea Camaron