When I suck it up and leave the office, Ryder is standing in the living room, staring out the dark window. I don’t stop at the bar though. I need a drink and a fucking minute to think outside of the house, so I head straight for the garage. Savannah is hot on my heels and puts a hand on my arm when I reach the bike.

“You’ve been drinking all day,” she says, trying to put herself in between me and the motorcycle.

“Move, Savannah.” Her weight in my arms is light and easy to move when I put her to the side and slide a leg over the seat.

“Don’t do this,” she whines. She’s back on me, placing her body against the bike. Our faces are closer to the same height, and her hands land my cheeks as I start the hog.

“Murph, please!” she howls, holding me tighter.

“It’s too much for one day.” The words seemingly fall out of my mouth without knowing why I say them. Her eyes find mine as she holds my face only inches from her.

“You don’t have to be alone,” she mumbles, and I notice the way the edges of her form are blurred and seem to bleed into two Savannahs. She was right. I have been drinking too much to drive, but I’m too reckless to care.

“Move, Savannah,” I growl at her. Outside the open garage door it’s started to rain, making the roads even more dangerous.

“If you go, I’m going with you.” She climbs on the back of the motorcycle and wraps her arms around my midsection.

I’m about to put the bike into gear and roll forward when something stops me. A vision of our bike skidding off the road and into a ditch, throwing Savannah as it spins. It could kill her, and that thought alone makes my stomach fill with lead.

“Goddammit,” I mutter as I kill the engine. Her arms don’t leave my body as she squeezes me tighter, her legs tight against my sides.

“Murph,” she whispers against my back. When she climbs off and gets back in my face, I get lost in the fullness of those lips. I want to forget about everything that happened today. Burying Hazel. Ryder’s birth certificate. Fuck it all.

Her hands reach back up to find my face, and it feels so nice, I lean into the touch.

“Come to bed with me,” she whispers, tracing her lips along my cheek and down to my mouth. Her sweet taste has my stomach growling.

“Fuck the bed.” Lifting her up, I pull her onto the bike with me, facing me and draping her legs over mine.

I trail kisses along her jawline and down her neck. She purrs against my lips, but her hands against my body push me back.

“Murph, I meant to talk.”

My lips freeze in their place.