Page 9 of The Harder You Fall (Rixon Raiders 3)

Mya, dripping off the peak of her hood and onto her thick lashes.

“You need me, Hernandez, admit it.” I leaned over and pushed open the door, waiting. “Get in.”

To my surprise and relief, Mya climbed inside, shaking off her hood before pushing it down. Her tight spiral curls seemed wilder, framing her face.

“Thanks.” She belted up and tucked her hands under her thighs.

“Scared you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself?” I teased, expecting some sassy retort. But Mya was quiet, too fucking quiet.

“Mya?” I asked.

“Just drive, Asher.” She gave a resigned sigh, as if she’d broken her cardinal rule by accepting a ride home from me.

And I didn’t know which cut worse.

That she was disappointed at herself for giving in to me. Or the fact she felt the need to resist me in the first place.

Mya

“Well, this is me.” Asher’s Jeep slowed to a stop outside my Aunt Ciara’s house. It was an old farmhouse style place on the edge of town. A world away from the likes of Asher’s house with its huge yard, double garage, and lakeside setting. His was one of the biggest houses in town, a constant reminder that me and my new friend—and I used the term loosely—had completely different lives.

I was the girl from the hood, running from her past and trying to hold it together long enough to finish senior year. While Asher was… well, he was the All-American boy next door. Popular, athletic, and drop dead gorgeous—if you liked that kind of thing. Messy blond hair, pantie-melting blue eyes, and a smile so charming he had half the town falling at his feet.

He was also a giant pain in the ass.

Unlucky for me, his chosen ass of the moment was mine.

“Thanks for the ride.” I began to shoulder the door, but he snagged my wrist. My eyes flew to where his fingers curled around my wrist; his sun-kissed skin still three shades lighter than my caramel skin.

Just another reminder of everything that was different about us.

“Invite me in, Hernandez. I bet your aunt would love to meet me.” He had the audacity to wink. I smothered a groan.

“My aunt isn’t exactly a fan.” My brow rose, gaze darting to where he was still holding me. Asher released my wrist and ran a hand through his hair.

“Let me guess, she doesn’t want a Raider sniffing around her niece?”

“Try, white boy,” I murmured beneath my breath.

“What did you just say?” Asher said. “Because I know you didn’t just say what I think you said.”

“Nothing,” I bit out. “I said nothing.”

His eyes narrowed, searching my hardened expression for the truth. “Your aunt got a problem with the color of my skin, Hernandez?” He actually sounded offended. “She doesn’t even know me.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“Nobody cares about that shit, Mya. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s the twenty-first century.”

“And the fact you just said that tells me everything I need to know.” Indignation skittered up my spine. “Thanks again for the ride. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” I slipped out of the Jeep, my chest tight with frustration.

Of course Asher didn’t get what it was like for me in a place like Rixon. Why would he? He was a guy. A privileged white guy, born and raised here.

He was also a Rixon Raider.

Something I’d quickly learned meant something around here.

I didn’t look back as I hurried toward my aunt’s porch. She wasn’t home, rarely was thanks to her job at the Seven-Eleven in the next town over. But I didn’t want to tell Asher that. He was worse than a dog with a bone and I knew if he realized I was home alone, he’d find a way inside, and then I’d never get rid of him.