“Yeah,” I mumbled as the game started back up. “I really don’t want to deal with this right now, King—”
“He’s on his way there.”
“What?!”
“What the hell happened?” King demanded as I handed the phone back to Dermot and looked towards the parking lot. I tapped my foot and felt a surge of guilt. I was at a point where I could either leave the twins’ match and beg Dermot to drive me home… or I could wait until Stratton got here and made a scene. One of those was going to happen.
“Do you want to stay?” Dermot asked, hanging up.
“No,” I spoke softly.
“The twins will understand. Let’s get you out of here, this isn’t the place to handle whatever is going on,” he insisted. The game was back in progress, so the twins didn’t see as we stood up and exited the bleachers. Crap. I felt like such garbage. What if they thought this was about the kiss? I pushed it away as we entered the parking lot and near Dermot’s DBS Superleggera. It was a stunning car, and I wondered when it had arrived—I assumed it was something he had to get shipped over.
Before I could get into the car, the sound of a motorcycle had me letting out a low groan. Dermot muttered a curse but didn’t usher me into the car, his frame leaning against the door and watching Stratton with a peculiar look. He wasn’t angry, but he didn’t look happy, either. I wish I could read him better. I wanted to take a picture of all his expressions so I knew them perfectly. I crossed my arms as Stratton came to a stop on his bike, blocking our path out of the lot.
My mouth dried up, because,good lordhe was hot. Seriously, as he ran a hand through his dark hair and got off the bike, I scowled at the lack of helmet, and then hated that his looks had been my first thought. I had constantly reminded him, since he first got the bike, to wear his helmet… probably a bit obsessively. The fact that he had forgotten it made me realize just how worked up he currently was about our situation. His dark boots and leather jacket were damp with rain, and his blue eyes were filled with pain as he looked momentarily at Dermot before moving his eyes back to me.
“Why the hell don’t you have your phone with you?”
“That’s what you came here to say? Seriously?”
His frustration was apparent. “Dahlia, you don’t understand what is going on. We need to talk, now. I am taking you home—”
“No you aren’t,” Dermot said evenly.
Stratton’s temper sparked. “Yes, I fucking am. I don’t give a damn if your King’s cousin—”
“It’s raining, she’s not going on a motorcycle,” Dermot said evenly again, his voice firm but not angry… just unrelenting. “I was driving her back anyway. You don’t even have a fucking helmet with you.”
I saw reality hit Stratton as his eyes moved back towards me. “You promise to hear me out when we get back.”
“That wasn’t a question,” I swallowed.
“Angel,” his voice was rough, “Please?”
“Maybe,” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair, only to have it stopped by the braid. “Can we just get out of the rain?”
Dermot unlocked the door and I slid into the car, leaving the two of them out there as the warm air made me realize he had remote-started it a bit ago. I watched as Stratton said something to Dermot, the tension between the two of them easing as Dermot responded. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after another minute, Stratton looked at me through the windshield before starting up his bike again and flying off down the street.
With no helmet. That bothered me like you wouldn’t believe.
Dermot got into the car, muttering foreign words under his breath as I buckled myself in and sunk into my seat. I found myself lost in thought as we made our way home, Dermot continuing to look at me out of the corner of his eye. I could feel him wanting to say something, but something in my expression must have stopped him. I swallowed nervously, running a hand over my throat as we reached the familiar gates.
Almost instantly I groaned.Crap.
“Just pull up outside of my house,” I sighed and then spoke softer, “Thanks for getting me away for a bit. I needed that.”
Dermot reached over and tugged my braid lightly, looking like he wanted to say something, but stopped as a fist pounded on his window.
“Fucking bastard,” Dermot snarled as I opened my door and got out. Instantly Yates was there in my space, crowding me against the car.
“Why the hell didn’t you have your phone with you?” Oh sweet christ.
I put my hand on his chest and offered him a look, stepping out from the space between the car and Yates’s hot frame. King was standing there, looking equally as intense as I let out a huff of air. I pinned them both with a look.
“I need a few hours, okay?” I asked, my voice soft. “Please?”
I think my lack of combative attitude came through to Yates, because he looked more worried than anything. King’s jaw clenched as he glanced away, looking like he very much didn’t agree. I met Dermot’s gaze as he offered me a nod, then made my way towards my house.