An hour later, we pull up outside Dixie’s. She comes running out and hops up into the back seat. “I cannot believe Colt Darling asked you to Homecoming,” she gushes. “Tell me every single detail.”
I glance at Royal, who’s grinding his teeth but currently not speaking to me.
“It’s not a big deal,” I say. “We were just talking, and he asked who I was going with. I told him I wasn’t going, and he asked me.”
“No way,” Dixie squeals. “You’re so lucky.”
“You’re not going?” I ask as the car speeds toward the tiny shopping center in town.
Dixie snorts. “I’m only a freshman. I can’t even go alone. They don’t allow freshmen unless their date is an upperclassman.”
“Royal’s a sophomore,” I point out.
“Oh… No, it’s okay,” Dixie says, going red to the roots of her hair. “Really, I’m good. I’ll go next year.”
“I’ll take you,” Royal says, breaking his silence at last.
“You don’t have to,” Dixie mumbles.
“Okay,” Royal says. “If you don’t want to go, I won’t take you.”
“I mean, I want to,” she blurts, blushing even harder. “But you probably have someone you’d rather ask.”
“You can just go as friends if it makes you more comfortable,” I say. “Like me and Colt.”
I catch Royal’s eye, and seeing the relief there lets me know I did the right thing. I want him to be okay with the Darlings, but I don’t want to upset him. If it makes him happy, I’ll go as friends with Colt. I’m not even sure I like Colt. Sometimes he’s great, and other times… Not so much.
“Okay,” Dixie says. “But, I mean, don’t you guys already have dates?”
I roll my eyes and turn to my friend in the back seat. “When a cute boy asks you out, and you want to go, the answer you usually give isyes.”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Great,” I say. “Now, let’s go get some dresses.”
twenty-two
So this is how reconciliation feels. Despite my brothers’ misgivings, I feel good. Taking down the Darlings never felt quite right to me. But joining them at the top, sharing their throne, and making sure I use that power to protect people—that feels right. Having a say in it, and not just doing what my family wants, that feels right. For the first time in a long time, I might be able to do something for me, too, not just the Dolce name. And that’s the kind of power I want.
“This limo is tacky as fuck,” I say, laughing as I climb in next to Dixie and Dolly, who by some miracle agreed to be Duke’s date. I thought she might be with Preston now, but obviously she’s got better taste than I gave her credit for. I almost feel bad for her. The poor girl has no idea what’s about to hit her. My brothers may be loyal to me, but that trait doesn’t carry over into their dating lives.
Baron quietly asked a cheerleader sometime in the past month, and we’re all riding together. Once the girls are in, Duke and Baron squeeze in next to their dates. Royal stands glaring at Colt, who ducks in next to me before my brother relents and climbs in.
“I’d so kiss you if your brother wasn’t here right now,” Colt says to me with a grin.
“And if we were going as more than friends,” I remind him. I made the concession to appease Royal, who was royally pissed about the whole thing, but I also don’t want Colt to get the wrong impression. We made up the whole star-crossed lovers thing to get our families to drop their feud, but it’s hard to tell with Colt when he’s serious and when he’s not. I don’t want to lead him on when I’m not really sure how I feel about him. My heart doesn’t stutter step when someone mentions his name, and his smell doesn’t make me dizzy no matter how deeply I inhale it. But he’s fun when he’s not following his psycho cousins, who are banned from the dance along with King.
“Let’s get this party started,” Duke says, grabbing some champagne while Dixie hands out glasses, giggling all the while. We crank up the music and open the top of the limo while it speeds down the road toward the swanky club where the dance is being held. Duke opens the champagne, making sure to spray some on Dolly so he can lick it off her cleavage while she yelps in surprise. She doesn’t look exactly appalled, though. Most girls don’t see Duke coming until it’s too late, until they’re seeing his taillights as he’s going.
“I’ve never been in a limo,” Dixie shouts over the music, her cheeks flushed from the little bit of champagne she’s had.
“Then you have to get out the top,” I yell back. “Come on. I’ll go with you.”
We both stand and stick our heads out, yelling into the chilly October night and holding our arms up like we’re on a rollercoaster.
“Someone’s slapping my ass,” she shrieks, doing a funny little dance step before collapsing back inside in a heap of giggles.
“Come back in,” Dolly yells. “You’re gonna mess up your hair.”