Page 24

Dice

I was done.

I didn’t want to do this anymore.

It was torture—pure and simple—being able to see Lainey but not touch her. For five damn hours, she’d been in the same building, just a few feet away, but I might as well have been on the other side of the world.

I hadn’t felt her skin under my hands. Hadn’t tasted her lips. Hell, I hadn’t even said five whole words to her. Every time I looked over, she was laughing with the girls or sitting quietly with that serene smile she wore when she didn’t know anyone was watching. And I had to stand still, smile for the camera, and pretend I wasn’t dying inside.

For three and a half hours, they rotated between me, Fade, Compass, and Yarder. If we weren’t being photographed, we were changing wardrobe or moving props. When the crew switched to filming the girls, I thought we’d finally get a break.

Nope.

They needed the bikes moved around for the group shots. Of course, they offered to do it themselves—but not a single one of us was about to let some production assistant climb on our bikes like they were set dressing. So, no break for us. Just more shifting, tweaking, adjusting.

By the time the group shots were over, I was half a breath from collapsing. I was sweaty, tired, and strung out on caffeine and adrenaline. My back ached. My head throbbed.

But none of that mattered the second I heard the photographer shout, “That’s a wrap!”

That was all I needed.

My eyes locked on Lainey. She was across the room talking to Olive, but she looked up at just the right second. Her gaze met mine.

I didn’t stop. Didn’t think. I walked straight through the chaos of lighting rigs and scattered equipment like it was nothing.

I reached her, grabbed her waist, and yanked her to me.

“Duane,” she gasped, laughing, breathless.

Then I kissed her.

It was strong. Sweet. Desperate. Passionate. I didn’t care who was watching. I didn’t care that half the cast and crew were still milling around. I needed to feel her lips on mine or I was going to drop dead right there on the warehouse floor.

Lainey. My Lainey. She was everything I needed to stay standing.

We pulled apart, both of us breathing like we’d run a mile.

“Duane…” she whispered as her eyes sparkled with mischief and heat. “You can’t kiss me like that.”

I grinned. “That’s the only way I know how to kiss you, babe.”

She leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “Then don’t be surprised when I strip you naked in the nearest corner and have my way with you.”

A low growl rumbled up my throat. “That a promise?”

Without warning, I scooped her off her feet. She squealed and threw her arms around my neck, legs around my waist, and laughed against my jaw.

I held her like she was mine—because she was.

“Why wasn’t she in the shoot?” I heard someone whisper nearby.

“She’s not in the show,” someone else replied.

“Too bad. They’ve got electric chemistry.”

Damn right we did.

I looked into her eyes, feeling something settle in my chest—something real and deep and unshakable. “I love you,” I said softly against her lips.

Her eyes fluttered closed. “Thank God.”

I blinked. “Thank God?”

She opened her eyes and cupped my face in her hands. “Thank God you love me, because after watching you all day, I realized I never stopped loving you. Not after sixteen years. Not ever.”

I chuckled, heart pounding. “Thank God,” I echoed.

Lainey laughed. “Are we both relieved?”

I nodded and kissed her again. “The bad boy and the nerd are back together.”

She shook her head. “We need to update that, babe.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re a hotshot now.”

I smirked. “And you’re the hot bombshell. My bombshell.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “My hotshot.”

“Yo!” Pirate’s voice rang out. “Your phone is ringing, Dice!”

I groaned. “Jesus. Five hours without touching you was too much. You’re gonna have to be permanently attached to me, babe.”

She laughed and let her legs drop to the floor. I threaded my fingers through hers, not ready to fully let her go.

I stalked over to Pirate and took the phone from him. It had stopped ringing, but just as I swiped to see who’d called, it buzzed again.

One look at the number made my stomach drop.

The burner.

The one we’d been waiting on for weeks.

Stretch.

Yarder was already watching me. I didn’t have to say a word. He knew.

He moved toward me. So did Compass. Fade. Cue Ball. The guys gathered around like a wall.

I hit the green button and put the phone on speaker. “Stretch?”

The line crackled with static.

Nothing.

“Hello?” Yarder called.

More static.

My throat went dry. This was Stretch’s phone, but no one was answering.

“Hello?” I called again, louder. “Stretch?!”

And then—“Are you there?” A female voice.

Not Stretch.

Who the hell—?

“Who is this?” I asked, pulse thudding hard in my ears.

“Is this Dice?” she asked, ignoring the question.

Yarder gave a sharp nod. I didn’t even glance away.

“Yeah,” I said. “Who is this?”

A pause. And then—“My name is Tilly… and Stretch needs you. They know.”

The line went dead.