LOGINZANE'S POVFIVE YEARS LATER.Cheers erupted amongst the crowd as I settled back on the dirt, kicking off the brakes to my bike. My name was chanted like prayers on each and every one of their lips as I nodded off and gave a curt bow with my helmet still on.A cocky grin settled on my lips watching the reporters approach, and just in time Elliot had brought the guards along to ward them off. Once again, I'd won—three-time nationals, lots of awards in between. Competition after competition I won. One could put out a fair guess I loved being a biker, right?.Except no. I hated it.Did I love the way everyone worshipped me? The thrill of being wanted by strangers? The mystery surrounding the anonymous biker with the red helmet? Sure. I lived for that. But the actual sport? I couldn’t care less.My phone buzzed and my grin split even wider watching the trail of comments kick in as I settled into the bus, taking off my helmet. My eyes twitched seeing her name there—the awfully irritating sm
NORA'S POVMy eyes remained glued to the clock as I waited for my parents’ arrival. It had been an entire week since the chaos between Zane and me. He’d barely been home, and honestly? I enjoyed the solitude. Except—I never recalled agreeing to any peace treaty between us.The door shuffled open right on time as Zane walked in. A disgusted frown was sprawled across his face as he sank into the couch, far away from mine."What did you do this time, SinDoll?" he asked with a smirk, grinning from ear to ear. I feigned ignorance. He was in for it—he just didn’t know it yet."I’m waiting on our parents. They’re back from their honeymoon, and here I was thinking you passed out drunk in a bin or something," I responded, ignoring the dramatic eye roll he threw at the end of my words.The loud honking of a car pulling into the driveway cut off any other smart remark I had. I tried holding in my laughter. This wasn’t how it was meant to end, but I'd rather have Zane corrected once and for all.
NORA'S POV.He wasn’t at the wedding, He didn't show up at the reception and didn't clap when they kissed.Didn’t toast. Didn’t sit through the speeches. Didn’t fake a smile. Didn’t offer a word. He had a bloody frown on all day his hands twitching continously Like he didn't approve of the wedding , we'll neither did I. I'd seen him roll a joint and smoke openly not giving a single flying fuck about anyone's opinion.And no one asked why. Not my mom. Not her new husband. Not even a raised brow.Like she hadn’t noticed her new stepson vanished the second the vows ended. Like it didn’t matter that he bolted right after the church ceremony, face pale, lips tight, fists clenched like he was holding back a full-on explosion.He looked like someone took a knife to his gut and left it there.The newlyweds waved from the window, her hand on his shoulder like she’d never been happier. Giggling like she wasn’t ditching me with the last person on earth I’d choose to be alone with. Her hair
NORAHe wouldn’t stop eye-fucking me. I didn’t mind either.The one good thing about this rotten, boring-to-the-core fancy work party my mom dragged me into was the breathtaking, sexy-as-fuck guy standing a few tables away. He’d stolen idle glances in my direction, passed quite a few winks, and dare I say—I wanted more.Then a girl slid up beside him. Tall. Blonde. Laughing too loud.He leaned down, murmured something in her ear. She giggled instantly. His hand settled at her waist like it belonged there. Comfortable. Easy. I rolled my eyes. Of course. Another pretty asshole who flirted with anything that smiled back. So much for interesting.My eighteenth birthday had passed six months ago, and I was fucking tired of being this stuck-up virgin. Ella said sex was great, wild, fun. And I wasn’t Ella, my best friend—sharp-witted, fearless—but I wanted to live too.So when he set down his wine glass and stalked over to me, I didn’t flinch. I kept my head straight eyes locked on him while







