Page 20 of Egg Me On (Front Range Motorcycle Collective #1)

Cash

Riding in to work together felt right. Natural.

His arms wrapped around my waist, body melded to mine like he belonged there.

We'd fallen back into the rhythm we'd found in the mountains, moving as one through the curves of Denver's morning traffic.

It was easier to communicate this way, with the press of his chest against my back, the tightening of his fingers on my stomach when he wanted me to slow down, the weight of his head resting between my shoulder blades when we hit a straight stretch.

The kiss he’d planted on my cheek when I’d dropped him at the food truck.

The shop was quiet when I walked in, just Dylan whistling as he tore down a carburetor and Liv cursing softly at something under a Triumph.

Normal. Except nothing felt normal anymore.

I could still smell Aiden on my shirt, could still feel the imprint of his body against mine.

I set my helmet on the workbench and pulled out my phone to check the day's appointments.

Thirty-seven social media notifications. What the fuck?

I swiped open the app, stomach dropping as I saw the tagged photo at the top of my feed. The same one Aiden had shown me last night. Only now it had hundreds of likes and dozens of comments.

@RiderGirl69: Who's the mystery passenger? @MotoCash finally find someone who can handle those curves? ??

@DenverMotoClub: Cash Upton with a passenger? Never thought I'd see the day. Lucky SOB whoever they are.

@BikerBabe303: OMG is that a rainbow stripe on the helmet? Cash has a boyfriend?!

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. I scrolled faster, heart pounding in my throat, well aware that my parents and brother would be watching. It wasn’t a secret. I’d shared it with too many people before the thirst trap explosion.

My brother. Who was running for state senate in Kansas on a "traditional family values" platform. Who had never fully understood why I left home to "play with motorcycles" instead of joining the family business.

"Whoa, someone's popular today." Dylan's voice made me jump. He peered over my shoulder at my phone, his usual grin widening. "Is that you with Aiden? Man, the internet has opinions."

I shoved my phone in my pocket, heat crawling up my neck. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing." Dylan waggled his eyebrows. "Looks like you finally got your head out of your ass and told Aiden you wanted him. About time."

Liv appeared at my other side, wiping grease from her hands.

"Did I hear correctly? Cash Upton's love life is trending?

" She plucked my phone from my pocket before I could stop her—personal boundaries had never been Liv's strong suit—and whistled low as she scrolled.

"Damn, you two look good together. Very social media-aesthetic. "

I snatched my phone back, scowling. "Don't you have work to do?"

"This is more interesting," Dylan said, leaning against my workbench. "Tell us more about what happened. I knew it, though. The way you looked at him at the campout? Like a cartoon prince gazing at his one true love."

"Fuck off," I growled, but there was no real heat behind it. I couldn't summon genuine annoyance, not when my body still hummed with the memory of Aiden's hands on me, his lips against my ear, whispering that he wanted me just as I was.

"Oh, I've got a shot of that from the campout," Liv said, pulling out her own phone. "Didn't realize I should be documenting the romance of the century, or I'd have taken better ones."

She tapped at her screen, then held it up triumphantly. "Sent them to you. You're welcome."

My phone buzzed with the incoming message. Against my better judgment, I opened it.

The photo punched the air from my lungs.

It was of Aiden and me by the campfire, his face animated mid-story, hands gesturing expressively.

And me... fuck, I was smiling. Actually smiling.

Not my usual tight-lipped grimace, but a real smile that softened my entire face, eyes fixed on him like he was the only person in the world.

I remembered that moment. Aiden had been telling everyone about how he'd accidentally driven his food truck down a one-way street his first week in business, had to be rescued by a friendly cop who ended up becoming his first regular customer.

"You two are disgustingly cute," Liv said, misinterpreting my silence as embarrassment rather than the emotional sucker punch it really was. "I thought you were going to spontaneously combust every time he touched you."

Dylan piped up. "You literally dragged him away from the campfire the second I tried to flirt."

I felt heat crawl up my neck. "I was just—"

"Marking your territory?" Liv suggested with a smirk. "Yeah, we noticed."

"He makes the best fucking breakfast sandwiches I've ever had," Dylan said, changing the subject slightly. "You're a lucky man, Cash. Just saying."

I stared down at the photos again, lingering on the one of us by the fire.

I hadn't known I could look like that—soft, open, almost..

. happy. It was a stranger's face reflected back at me, but one I recognized somewhere deep in my bones.

The person I might be if I stopped fighting so hard against my own nature.

"Yeah," I said quietly.

The admission hung in the air, surprisingly easy to voice. Dylan and Liv exchanged glances, clearly not expecting me to agree so readily.

"Well, shit," Liv grinned. "The apocalypse must be coming. Cash Upton admitted to having feelings."

"Fuck off," I muttered, but couldn't stop the slight upturn of my lips.

I tucked my phone away, the images burning into my memory.

Aiden's animated face as he'd told that story about his first week with the food truck.

How he'd laughed at his own mistakes, completely at ease with his imperfections in a way I'd never managed to be.

I ran a hand through my hair, unaccustomed to talking this much, especially about someone I was—what? Dating? Was that what we were doing? Whatever it was, it felt too new, too fragile to name.

The shop door swung open, and my heart did that ridiculous leap it always did when Aiden walked in.

He was carrying a brown paper bag that smelled like heaven, his hair still damp from a shower, cheeks flushed from the morning chill.

He spotted me and his face lit up in a way that made my chest ache.

"Breakfast delivery," he announced, crossing to my workbench. "Triple bacon with extra cheese and that hot sauce you pretended not to love but definitely went back for seconds of."

Dylan whistled, backing away with his hands raised. "And that's my cue to give you lovebirds some privacy."

Liv followed, but not before wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do on that workbench."

Aiden's cheeks flushed darker, but he was grinning as he set the bag in front of me. "They know, huh? It's kind of hot," he said, leaning closer. "Knowing I can make the stoic Cash Upton lose his cool."

Something warm uncurled in my chest at his teasing. I took a step toward him, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. I lifted a hand and brushed that stray curl off of his forehead.

His eyes widened slightly, lips parting on an indrawn breath. "That was almost romantic, Upton. Be careful, or I'll start thinking you like me."

I more than liked him, I just didn’t know how to say it.

The shop door banged open again, shattering the moment. The sound was followed by heavy footsteps and a familiar voice that turned my blood to ice.

"Cassius! I knew it," Leo spat, striding across the shop floor like he owned it.

“Your full name is Cassius?” Aiden said, laughter in his eyes. “I kinda like it!”

"Jesus Christ, right out in the open? Are you fucking kidding me?" Leo continued, undeterred by Aiden’s cheer.

I pulled back from Aiden instinctively, years of conditioning kicking in. Leo stood before us in his perfect suit, perfect haircut, perfect campaign-ready appearance, face contorted with disgust as his eyes flicked between Aiden and me.

"Leo," I managed, voice tight.

"I’m here for damage control," he snapped. "Though it might be too late for that. You know your little photo is all over social media, right? With your full name tagged? Do you have any idea what this could do to my campaign?"

Of course. The campaign. First, it had been the business, their customer base, wholesome, Christian folk from the heartland who just wanted me to behave like I should and not make a fuss. But lately, my brother had shifted his focus to bigger goals. To politics.

"What are you doing?" Leo's voice rose. "My opponents will jump on this, and trash me in the headlines. 'Senate candidate Leo Upton's brother caught in homosexual tryst.' You couldn't keep it private, could you? Had to flaunt it all over social media."

Aiden straightened beside me, his easy smile replaced by something sharp and dangerous. "Excuse me," he said, voice deceptively calm. "But who the fuck are you?"

Leo barely spared him a glance. "I'm his brother. And you need to back off."

"His brother," Aiden repeated slowly. "I didn’t even know he had a brother."

"This doesn't concern you," Leo dismissed. “This is about the way my little brother is hell-bent on ruining my political career.”

“Political career?” Aiden scoffed. “You must be a huge deal. I’ve never even heard of you.”

“Just because I’m starting small doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. State Senate in Kansas is my path to the US Congress. It’s all mapped out. And I won’t let Cassius ruin it.”

Aiden tilted his head. “I don’t get it. Why would having a queer brother ruin a political career?”

“Because it goes against the will of God!” Leo thundered. “My campaign is all about getting back to our roots. Family values.”

“You drove here from Kansas?” Aiden asked, looking baffled. “To yell at him? They have this newfangled technology. It’s called a phone.”

“This was a conversation that needed to happen in person. So he could see exactly what he’s done wrong.”

Aiden blinked. “You should be happy as hell that your brother found someone to care about him. Someone with real family values wouldn’t drive all the way from Kansas to come yell at their brother like some asshole.”

“What does it matter to you?” Leo was roaring now.

Aiden stepped closer, putting himself slightly between Leo and me. "I'm the one he’s been with. The one you're so worried about ruining your precious campaign."

I should say something. Anything. But words died in my throat as Leo's face flushed with anger.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to this family?" Leo hissed at me. "To Mom and Dad? To the business? Thirty-five years building a reputation in that community, and you might destroy it."

"He's not doing anything to anyone," Aiden's voice cut like glass. "Except living his life. Which, last time I checked, he has every right to do without getting permission from his asshole brother."

Leo's head whipped toward Aiden, finally giving him his full attention. "Again, this is a family matter."

"Family?" Aiden's laugh was without humor. "That's rich. Family supports each other. Family accepts each other. If you’re behaving like this, you’re not his family.”

"Don’t think this is love. It's a phase. Another rebellion. Like the motorcycles, like dropping out of business school. Always looking for ways to embarrass the family."

"Or maybe," Aiden continued, voice rising with conviction, "maybe it's not about you at all, but about Cash living authentically.

Maybe it's about him finding happiness on his own terms instead of following some bullshit playbook written by people who care more about appearances than actual human connection. "

I stared at Aiden, something fierce and protective swelling in my chest. He was magnificent in his anger—all righteous fury and articulate defense.

"And while we're at it," Aiden continued, warming to his subject, "let's talk about your erasure of bisexuality.

Because Cash isn't gay, he's bisexual. And your inability to recognize that is just another example of how you're trying to force him into neat little boxes that make sense for your narrow worldview. "

Leo's face had gone from red to purple. "I don't need a lecture on sexuality from some—"

"Some what?" Aiden challenged, stepping closer. "Go ahead, say it. Show your true colors right here in front of your brother and his coworkers. I'm sure that'll play great for your campaign."

“Get out of my shop,” Silas’s deep voice rang out across the shop. I hadn’t even heard him come in, but he was flanked on both sides by Marcus and other members of the crew. They looked tough and dangerous, but they had nothing on the fierce little Aiden.

“This is private property, and you are not welcome here,” Marcus added. “Bigotry is not welcome here.”

Leo's mouth snapped shut, jaw working as he visibly struggled for control. His eyes darted around the shop, where I now noticed Dylan and Liv watching with undisguised interest from their workstations.

"This isn't over," Leo said finally, jabbing a finger toward me. "We'll discuss this privately. Without your... friends... present."

"No," I found my voice at last, the single syllable feeling like liberation. "We won't."

Leo stared at me for a long moment, as if seeing me for the first time. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the shop, the door slamming behind him.

The silence that followed was broken by a low whistle from Dylan.

"Holy shit," he said. "Aiden’s got teeth. Remind me not to cross him!"

Aiden was still vibrating with tension beside me, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I reached for his hand, threading our fingers together without hesitation.

"You okay?" he asked, squeezing my hand, his anger immediately giving way to concern.

I nodded, then looked down at him, smoothing a hand over his cheek.

I wondered if Leo had really driven all the way from Kansas just to confront me about the photo.

Probably. It would be just like him—impulsive when it came to protecting the family image, calculating in everything else.

But as I stood there, surrounded by the familiar smells of motor oil and metal, Aiden's hand warm in mine, I realized something profound.

I didn't care. I just needed to thank him. For every single thing he’d said.