The light turned green, and he hit the gas. “I’m not a nice guy.”
“Says the guy who offered a drunk girl a ride. You’re not going to kill me or anything?”
Something sparked in his eyes, and he grinned. “I said I wasn’t a nice guy, not that I’m a serial killer.” He made a turn, taking us into a gated community much like the one I lived in. The iron gate swung open, and the attendant in the gatehouse waved as we passed through.
In fact, I was pretty sure this community wasn’t far from the Pattersons’. It was dark outside, but I could have sworn I drove past this place every day. “Then I’m not worried,” I replied.
Guiding the car around a curve, Brock turned onto a long driveway before stopping and putting the car in park. He reached across my seat, and I turned my head to find his face so close to mine. “You should be, Firefly,” he whispered, eyes locked onto mine.
Holy hell.I held my breath, my gaze shifting of its own accord from his eyes down to his lips. Fuck, I wanted to kiss him. The lips in question curled as if he knew exactly where my thoughts had gone.
All I had to do was close the tiny distance between our mouths and—
My seat belt clicked open.
I blinked as Brock leaned back into his seat, leaving me extremely disappointed. To cover my regret, I turned my head to the window. “Where are we?” I asked, glad that my voice remained level.
It was a sad day in my book when I started to grow desensitized to the sight of gorgeous houses. We were parked in front of another impressive mansion with unique angles that pulled your gaze. The exterior was a deep, dusty blue trimmed in cedarwood.
“My house,” he stated simply, killing the engine on the Range Rover.
I whirled to face him. “The party you were going to is at your house?”
His lips curved into a make-your-knees-weak grin. “My parents are out of town.” As if that was enough of an explanation, then added, “Beer run.”
I was no longer sure I wanted to get out of the car. Perhaps it was best if I sucked up my pride and went home. Surely someone was looking for me by now.
Who was I kidding?
No one at home actually gave a damn about me.
“Last chance. Do you want me to take you home?” Brock asked, picking up on my hesitation to get out of the car. I picked up a hidden warning in his offer. He was giving me an out, because once I walked through those glass doors, everything would change. I might not be an Elite, but Brock bringing me here, it set a precedent.
Why would he do that?
I glanced at the massive house, the trimmed hedges and softly glowing windows. Shaking my head, I replied, “No.”
When word got out Monday that I was seen in Brock’s car, that I arrived at a party with him, shit was going to hit the fan.
And I couldn’t wait. Mads would be ecstatic that our plan was rolling into motion.
Chapter Ten
Iwalked through a set of glass doors alongside Brock, wondering what kind of trouble I was in store for. The attraction I felt in the car faded into nerves. From the sounds filtering from the other room, it wasn’t a large party, not like Grayson’s had been. This was tame in comparison.
Less than a dozen or so people were lounging in the family room, including Micah, Fynn, and Grayson. The TV was on low, bottles of liquor and cans of beer scattered over the tables. My eyes swept through the rest of the room, scanning the faces. I recognized a few but knew only one other person by name. The bitch queen herself, Ava Whitmore.
Brock leaned close to my ear and murmured, “If you’re not in the mood to deal with people, you can crash upstairs.”
A stab of desire flared inside me. Inclining my head slightly to the side, I aligned our lips and arched a brow. “Am I going to find a girl in your bed... or two?”
“Probably,” he admitted, smirking, the arm holding a case of beer brushing against mine.
A deliberate move, one that had my stomach kicking up a notch. “I’ll pass.” I was attracted to Brock, there was no doubt about it, but that didn’t mean I had to act upon what my body was feeling. I had more willpower than that. Well, when I was sober, I did.
Right now, I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him.
Not happening.