Stealing Their Harley Read online

  Stealing Their Harley

  Amanda Perry

  A J Anders

  Copyright © 2019 by Amanda Perry & AJ Anders

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Also By

  About Amanda Perry

  About AJ Anders

  Chapter 1

  The sound of feet pounding on the pavement in a rapid rhythm, echoes all around me as I increase my pace. Late October evening air cools my heated skin, but I barely notice. Some may call me crazy for sprinting down the middle of the street after sunset, but I call it self- preservation. After all, there was someone running after me, trying his best to catch up. I increase my stride once more, trying to outrun him. I hear his own pace quicken behind me and I push harder. My heart races frantically, and beads of sweat dry as fast as they appear on my forehead thanks to the cold wind.

  When I round the last corner, the house comes into view. Seeing how close my destination is sends one last burst of adrenaline through me. My knees buckle under me the instant I reach the damp grass of the front yard. The momentum pushes me forward, but I manage to catch myself with my hands before dropping down all the way and rolling onto my back. Chest burning with every breath, I savor each one while I allow my heart rate to slow.

  “Are you done running?” His irritated tone interrupts my deep breathing exercises. I crack my eyes open to find him standing above me, hands on his hips and one dark eyebrow arched. He tries to hide the fact he’s as out of breath as me, but I notice his reddened cheeks through his olive skin and the way his chest expands rapidly as he pulls in precious air.

  I roll my head from side to side. I don’t have the muscle control to do more at the moment. “Never,” I gasp out, still short on breath.

  The front door to my house swings open, my mother stepping out with her purse in one hand and keys in the other. She falters when she catches sight of me sprawled out on the front lawn.

  Her eyes bounce from me to the beast standing above me, then back again. “Should I even ask?”

  “He started it.” I point to the asshat. “I told him to get lost, but he wouldn’t. Kick his ass, Ma.”

  Mom’s eyes widen a fraction and her lips tighten. She’s attempting to hold back a smile, and she’s doing a horrible job. She turns silently to close the door, not bothering to lock it since I’ll be going inside soon, then skips down the front steps and pauses beside the two of us.

  She keeps her eyes on her target the whole time, but by his easy smile he isn’t fazed. “I somehow doubt you’re responsible for whatever this was.” She peers down at me, her lips twitching. “You should really stop torturing your friends, Harley.”

  I wave my hand through the air. “Yeah, whatever. He loves it when I torture him.”

  “Care to share with the class, Rico?” My mom addresses my best friend instead of me. She knows he’ll give her the more accurate version of today's events. I tend to dramatize on occasion, or so I’ve been told.

  Rico huffs loudly. “She said she wanted to go for a quick run. I should’ve known that was a crock of sh…” He cringes and shakes his head. “I mean crap. Anyway, I said sure, let’s jog for a few. I was over it after about half an hour, but little miss speed racer here said she’d just go ahead without me and I could meet her here. She’s a brat. She knows I won’t just leave her sorry butt to jog alone. I had to follow her.”

  “See,” I interject, pushing myself up on my elbows. “He just admitted it. I told him to go away and he wouldn’t.”

  “He said a lot more than that, Harley,” my mom points out.

  I scoff and shake my head. “That’s irrelevant. Let’s just focus on the fact that he never listens.”

  “You’re so full of it,” Rico barks. He nudges me playfully with the toe of his shoe. “You know you sped up on purpose just to try and kill me. I could have gone into cardiac arrest and you’d have been sorry then.”

  “Did you see that, Mom,” I gasp. “He kicked me. Are you going to let him get away with doing such a thing to your only child?”

  My mom gives me an incredulous look and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I think I’ll let that one slide. Next time, you should let Rico get to the car before you take off. At least then you can run and he can drive after you.”

  “I’m perfectly fine running alone,” I protest while grabbing Rico’s hand and using it to pull myself up into a seated position. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Honey, you know Rico is just looking out for you,” Mom reminds me softly. She rifles around in her purse, extracting a piece of chewing gum and offering it to Rico. “He’s protective of you, especially after everything that’s happened recently. You should thank him for being such a good friend to you instead of trying to kill him.”

  “Oh my god,” I grumble and snatch the gum from her hand and pop it in my mouth before either of them can protest. “You two are such drama queens.”

  They both shoot me looks of disbelief and I can’t help but giggle. They tell me all the time I tend to overreact and make mountains out of molehills. They might be onto something, but I’ll never admit that to them.

  “Whatever, I’m going inside.” I roll over and use my hands to push myself to standing. My sore muscles protest and I savor the ache. “I need hydration.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning, Harley,” mom calls after me. “I love you.”

  Her words bring me to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. She knows exactly what to say to get me to relent. I spin on my heel and race straight for her. She readies herself for my assault by dropping her purse by her feet and opening her arms wide. I wrap my arms tightly around her middle and squeeze. She returns the favor.

  “I love you, too, Mom.” After she pulls away and kisses my forehead, I drop my hold on her and step back. “I promise while you’re at work I won’t have any crazy parties or whatever else college kids do these days.”

  She laughs loudly while bending to scoop up her purse. “You never had wild parties in high school, honey. I don’t think I have to worry about you now that you’re in college.”

  She starts toward the dark blue SUV in the driveway while I walk backward toward the house. “I could rebel at any time, Mother. It’ll be anarchy, just you watch.”

  “I’m so worried,” she mutters dryly. “Rico, keep her in line.”

  “Will do, Mrs. Lowell.” He cringes when my mom shoots him a mock glare. “I mean Debra.”

  After a quick nod of approval, Mom hops into the car and pulls out of the driveway. Rico shuffles over to stand next to me and we watch together as she drives off. “You’re never going to get used to calling her by her first name, are you?”

  “My mother would have beaten me with a broom if I ever called someone’s mom by their first name,” Rico reminds me. “Even with your mom’s constant permission.”

  The subject of Rico’s mom dampens the mood slightly as we make our way into the house. His mother passed away six months ago and it still hurts him think about her. She and my mom were best friends from high school. They raised their families together, which is how Rico and I
were deemed best friends from the day I was old enough to walk.

  Rico is three years older than me, but it never stopped him from allowing me to hang around. Some of his friends didn’t appreciate a little girl ruining their fun, but he simply told them if I couldn’t stay then he wouldn’t either. Eventually, they got used to me and even became good friends of mine. Everyone always assumed Rico and I would grow up and get married, have our own family, and live happily ever after. But that wasn’t our fate. Our feelings have always been, and will always be, platonic. I love him like a brother. I couldn’t imagine seeing Rico as anything but my best friend, and I know he feels the same.

  He’s a great catch and no one will ever be good enough for him, in my opinion. With his jet-black hair slicked back and perfectly in place, paired with his always crisp and clean button-down shirts, he has a sharpness that most men can’t pull off. His dark eyes always hold mischief and if I didn’t know him, I’d wonder if he was trouble. In truth, he’s the most relaxed and put together guy I’ve ever met. It helps to have him around because he balances me out.

  I don’t consider myself trouble, nor am I adventurous. I never party or hook up with random guys. My grades are decent and I go to my classes as I should. I’ve never even had a parking ticket. But I’m also what Mom and Rico call “sassy.” My tendency to rely on sarcasm and wit got me detention more than once in high school. It’s my quirk. I speak then think, not the other way around. I might have more friends and less sneers directed at me if I could shut my mouth from time to time, but I’ll never know.

  “You’re too quiet.” Rico’s suspicious tone brings me out of my own head. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Neither of us said anything while we changed our clothes and gathered our books to study. Rico knows me too well. He knows a quiet Harley can never be a good thing. This time, though, I’m not plotting anything devious.

  “Just thinking about stuff.” I shrug, hoping he drops the subject.

  I should know better than to hope Rico would drop anything, ever. He sinks down onto his favorite dining room chair and pushes his books to the side. I reluctantly do the same, feeling as though we won’t be studying much tonight.

  Rico waits ever so patiently and folds his arms over his chest. “Spill it, woman.”

  “Oh, my god.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not planning anything, Rico. I really was just thinking this time.”

  He raises one perfect eyebrow. “About?”

  My eyes drop to the table, unable to look at him. I use my nail to scratch at a piece of leftover pink residue on the table. Looks like Mom had been polishing her nails in the dining room again. “Your mom, mainly. I know you miss her. I do, too.”

  Rico exhales heavily and I glance up as he deflates, dropping his arms to the table and resting his chin on them. “I do miss her, all the time.” He mulls over his thoughts silently, then quietly continues. “I know you miss your dad too, though, Harley.”

  My mood sours instantly and I frantically start scrubbing at the spot. “That’s different, Rico, and you know it.”

  “Are we ever going to talk about him?” he asks, not deterred by my sudden shift in mood.

  I shake my head rapidly. “Nope, we aren’t. As far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Rico sits up straighter in his seat and tilts his head toward the kitchen. “Then why is there another letter from him on the counter?”

  With wide eyes, I turn toward the kitchen and find a pile of mail Mom must have grabbed earlier in the day. The same bright green envelope my father used to send the last ten letters to me sits on the top. Mom wants me to forgive my father and have some sort of relationship with him, but I refuse.

  Without hesitation, I stand and stomp over to the pile of mail, grab the green envelope from the top, and toss it in the small recycle bin beside the dining table. It’s full of green envelopes and needs to be emptied soon, but I can’t bring myself to do more than throw the letters in it and walk away. After the first letter from my father, I haven’t opened any of the others.

  If he didn’t leave in the middle of the night on my eighteenth birthday, with no explanation, I might be less bitter. There was no warning for us. He and Mom were happy as far as I knew. She told me she never saw it coming and it made no sense to her, either. His first letter to me only said he was sorry he couldn’t explain and he hoped one day I’d forgive him. Not likely after what he did to us.

  He was the main source of income in our home, so Mom had to think fast and get a job. Her nursing degree landed her the graveyard shift at the local hospital, which isn’t ideal, but it pays the bills. I tried to get a job of my own, even considered skipping my first year of college, but Mom refused to allow me to sacrifice my schooling.

  Two months after he left, Rico’s mom died in a car accident. His father left when he was small and he had no one else after his mom passed. We forced him to move in with us, turning the guest room into his. He could have rented his own apartment, or shacked up in a dorm room at our school, but I needed him close to me. He kept me sane during the worst few months of my life and I know he needed me just as much.

  “Feel better?” Rico asks when I plop back down into my seat.

  I nod, then pause and shake my head. “I don’t know. Quit asking me difficult questions.”

  Rico smirks and the mischievous light in his eyes shines brighter. “Should we just study, then?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, pulling my books closer. “We have a test tomorrow and you have that project due next week.”

  “It’s weird you know my schedule and assignments better than I do.” He frowns, grabbing his own books. “It’s like you’re stalking me.”

  “I’m always watching.” I shoot him a creepy smile and widen my eyes. “Always.”

  He snorts. “You’re a freak.”

  “You’re just mad because you forgot about your project until I said something,” I snark back, grinning widely.

  Rico glares at me, pursing his lips together. I’m right and he knows it.

  For the rest of the night we cram in as much studying as possible. Rico occasionally helps me, since he’s taken the classes I’m in, but mostly we work in silence. When I finally drag myself into bed around midnight, it doesn’t take any time at all to fall asleep.

  Normally, I wake up in one of two ways. My alarm blaring in the morning, or Rico yelling at me to get up because I slept through the alarm. This time, though, something else wakes me. A strange feeling of being watched pulls me from a deep sleep. I crack one eye and can see out the window that the sun hasn’t even started to come up yet.

  At first, I think I’ve had a bad dream and start to doze off again. Then I hear a quiet shuffle in my room. I sit up so fast my head spins, only to find the room completely empty. A gust of cold air causes me to shiver and I glance toward the window to find it open. I was sure it was closed a second ago when I opened my eyes. I drag myself out of bed and grab onto the window frame, ready to close it.

  Movement catches my eye and I hesitate. Standing at the tree line in my backyard, mere feet from my window, is a large, silvery white wolf. His bright green eyes appear to be watching me and I wonder if he’s the reason I woke up. Something about him makes me want to climb out the window and go to him, but my logical side intervenes and I shake the feeling off.

  The wolf turns toward the forest as if he heard something. He howls long and loud, sending shivers up and down my spine. His attention comes back to me briefly and he hesitates before disappearing into the trees. The urge to run with him hits me hard. Instead, I push the window closed and flip the lock. Chasing after a wild animal in the middle of the night isn’t the smartest idea and I like to think I have a little bit of common sense in me.

  The rest of the night I dream of a silver wolf with bright green eyes watching me from a distance. Strangely, it’s the best sleep I’ve had in a long while.

  Chapter 2

  Willowdale University resides in the c
enter of the small town of Willow Creek. Students come from all over the country, and sometimes the world, to attend Willowdale. It’s considered an Ivy League college and most attendees are from wealthy backgrounds.

  Before my dad left us, I’d applied for a scholarship to Willowdale. It’s close to home and Rico is a junior at the university thanks to the college fund his ailing grandparents set up for him when he was born. From the time I could say the word college, Willowdale was my dream school. I received my acceptance letter for a full ride on the day of the funeral for Rico’s mom. It wasn’t the confetti and streamers moment I’d dreamed of for years, but Rico reminded me a million times how proud his mom would have been, and I hold onto that thought whenever I remember the occasion.

  My father doesn’t know I was accepted into Willowdale. He knew I applied, encouraged it even. He helped me edit my essay for the application. We spent hours making it absolutely perfect. He acted as excited as me. It’s highly likely his letters ask about college and whether I got in, but I don’t care. He doesn’t deserve to know about my life since he walked out of it.

  Classes started a little over a month ago and I am loving every second of it. I’ve always been a nerd and a bookworm. I thrive on the challenge of difficult courses and tedious projects. Rico loves my studious tendencies, especially when he needs help with assignments.

  While my major is still undecided, Rico has had his heart set on a degree in History since his freshman year. All of his classes are geared toward his degree, but he has trouble with any math courses he’s required to take. He says he would rather drink a vile of poison than be forced to do math. I, on the other hand, happen to excel in math, which is why he and I share the same Calculus class despite the three-year difference. With my love of math, I could easily major in it, but I’ve decided to start my first semester with general education. I want to explore all of my options before deciding on one path.