Jeremy (Broken Angel #4) by L. G. Castillo Page A

hurting her feelings?
    “Uh, oh, look at the time.” He looked down at his bare wrist. “I have to do . . . uh . . . thing.” He jumped up from his seat and waved goodbye. “Thanks for the ice cream.”
    He rushed out of the market, his chest aching. He wasn’t sure what pained him more—the hurt expression on Leilani’s face, or that he had to leave even though he wanted to stay.

13
    “ T hanks , PJ,” Jeremy said, tucking the speeding ticket into his pocket.
    The police officer gave him a blank stare.
    “Oh, do you prefer being called James? I thought since this is the third ticket you’ve given me today, we could go on first-name basis. It is James, right?” He gazed at the officer’s name, P James , embroidered in yellow over his right front pocket. Over his left pocket, the officer’s badge glinted under the bright sun.
    The officer pressed his lips and slapped his black notebook shut.
    “Just keep it within the speed limit,” the officer said as he headed back to his patrol car.
    “You bet, fifty-five.”
    “Forty!”
    “Gotcha. Forty.” He smiled. The officer shook his head as he drove away.
    Well that wasn’t nice. Flipping up the kickstand, Jeremy released the clutch and got back on the highway. This time he made sure to pay close attention to how fast he was going.
    He’d been riding around for hours lost in thought, letting memories filter through his mind like pages in a photo album: watching Lash drive Naomi across Texas, Naomi’s stolen glances at Lash when she thought he wasn’t looking, how he’d driven Naomi’s bike to New Mexico and waited for them, how he’d convinced himself he was doing it to help Lash. He wasn’t. The fact was, he was jealous.
    He gritted his teeth, frustrated that he still couldn’t get rid of his feelings for Naomi. Diversions like going to the farmers market or even buying his crocodile boots took his mind off Naomi and Lash only for a while. As soon as it wore off, he was back to thinking about Lash and their fight. He still couldn’t believe he’d punched his brother. And what was worse, he’d wanted to hurt him. He’d wanted Lash to feel the pain he’d been feeling—and still did.
    He missed flying. There was nothing like flying to help him clear his head. Since he wanted to stay in his human form, he didn’t want to risk taking to the sky. Flying at night wasn’t an option, either. It was too risky. So he was stuck with driving the motorcycle. This way-too-slow-a-turtle-just-passed-me motorcycle.
    What the hell? Was this bike even moving?
    He glanced down at the speedometer and groaned. He was going forty. He accelerated a little more, daring to go a mind-blowing forty-five.
    This was a new kind of hell for him. He wanted to feel the wind biting his face, hear white noise wash over his ears, and feel his stomach dip as he plummeted down the sky in a freefall.
    The drive wasn’t helping anymore, so he decided to pull the motorcycle into a small parking lot near the beach. As he got off the bike, a couple of bikini-clad girls walked by. Their eyes widened as they scanned his body, taking in khaki shorts and fitted white shirt.
    He forced a grin, flashing his dimples. He thought a fake-it-till-you-make-it approach would help. It’d been days and he still couldn’t shake the numb feeling. He looked carefully at one of the girls, trying again to make himself feel something for the slender beauty. She moved gracefully, raven hair blowing wildly in the wind. A short yellow skirt was wrapped around her tiny waist, showing off her long tanned legs. The girl paused, her dark eyes holding his. Ruby lips curled into an inviting smile. She was pretty, maybe even prettier than Naomi. Then why couldn’t he feel anything for her? There was nothing there. No attraction. Only emptiness.
    He sighed and turned away, walking in the opposite direction. He didn’t mean to encourage her. All he wanted was to be his normal self again, to look at a pretty girl and