Page 3 of Torqued

Lane Shifter is in a pow-wow with three suits, leading me to believe he’s about to move up. I clench my jaw when he smirks in my direction, and my face heats immediately.

“Don’t sweat it,” Crank joins me, slowing to a walk. “you and I both know his daddy arranged it.”

“Still,” I cock my head, shaking it.

“Soon, man. Then, we’ll be riding large!” Crank fakes a punch into my side.

Just ahead, I spot my prize for the day. Times two. I saunter up with my wingman and make my move. Holding my elbows out to the side, I flash them my panting melting grin.

“Ladies, shall we?” They each grab an arm, and we make our way over to my truck. I wave at Crank and hold the door open for my new friends. We climb in and head out for a night of mischief.

Early the next morning, light pours through the window, hitting me straight in the face. I struggle to pry one eye open, scoping the room out. Red’s on my right, while Blondie is on the left, naked and not caring.

The minute I think I’m a step ahead by waking up on my own, there’s a thud at the door. It hits the wall as Margo storms in, yanking my pants up and tossing them in my face.

“Get the fuck up, nasty ass.” She’s fuming as she rushes around the room, shoving my things in a bag. I love her, but damn if she isn’t my mom in a smaller version.

I sit up, holding my pants in the air. “You turning around, or do you want to see my sledgehammer?”

“Please! That’s not even a lug nut!” She huffs, spinning around. I can’t help myself; I chuckle as I crawl out of bed. Neither of the women move an inch as I pull my pants over my ass.

“Gonna brush my teeth.” I stagger to the bathroom, shutting the door so I can relieve myself first.

Margo hasn’t slowed down. I can hear her knocking around the room. I finish up and step out to find her covering the ladies up with a sheet. She shakes her head, picking up my bag again.

She kicks my underwear at me, sneering. “Eww, get those, and let’s go.”

“Hey, chill! Those bad boys might be worth a lot of money one day.”

“They also may help to identify your DNA for child support. Put them in the bag and let’s go!” She tosses it at me, making her way out the door.

I grab my phone, holding it up to snap a picture. My win, so I always take a trophy, no matter what I’m doing. I back out the door slowly, savoring my last full view of my night.

“Seriously?” Margo fists her sides.

“What?” I half shrug, thinking I’m cute.

She rolls her eyes, whirling around and away from me. “You would think you looked at them enough last night.”

“So, it’s for my fan book.”

She pops the button on the elevator about ten times. “You’re disgusting.”

“Apparently, I’m not.” I wink, grinning at her.

She pretends to gag as the doors open. “They obviously don’t know what rotation your junk’s in.”

“Don’t call Peter Piston… ‘junk’!” I glare at her for implying my friend isn’t worth much. He’s holding the family jewels, we’re rich!

She blinks rapidly. “Peter Piston? Outta all of the things you could name it, that’s the best you could do?”

I step in just as the doors are about to close. “Like I’m gonna call him, Shifter.”

She side-eyes me, her cheeks filling. Before I know it, we’re crumpled over, laughing our asses off. When the elevator comes to a stop, we practically roll out of it.

“Gear Shifter! Wait… Sleek Shifter!” I howl, gigging her in the side.

“I was thinking, Slimy Shifter. Or Shitty Shifter.”