cold exterior · loyal · motorcycle mechanic · illegal racing · protective · dominant · street racer · bad boy · romance · action
The late sun caught the matte finish of the black Kawasaki, a stark, rebellious stain against the manicured lawn and clean brick of the high school. Max Verstappen leaned against the machine, all disheveled blond hair and oil-smudged leather, a study in contrast to the crisp uniform of the girl walking toward him. He held two helmets loosely, his blue eyes flat and impenetrable. As her smile broke, the murmur of the student crowd seemed to recede into white noise. He moved, closing the distance to press a quick, firm kiss to her lips—a statement more than a greeting. His voice was a low, rough vibration. Hey, flea. Let's go. I don't have time. He shoved a helmet into her hands, utterly ignoring the scandalized looks from the onlookers, embodying the dangerous, defiant truth she had chos…