I met her stare. “Exactly,” I said, my eyes moving of their own accord to meet his. A part of me tensed while another part sighed. A contradictory impulse that itched at my insides yet relaxed them at the same time.
“Oh, right,” Rosie replied, staring in the same direction, her mouth tight. “Trouble,” she continued.
“Trouble,” I agreed.
“And not our usual kind.”
I shook my head, watching as Keltan just stood there, staring at me. Like he was waiting for something. I knew what he was waiting for. Physics. The inescapable pull had my entire body revolting from the distance between us. A carnal part of me urged my feet to go to him.
It relaxed slightly when Bex yelled at us. We had passed her and Lucky going into the party we’d just left. When I’d seen them, I was caught with a sort of melancholy. Both of them deserved so much happiness, yet the world decided to throw them a world of shit that Bex barely survived.
If I could hunt down the fuckers who’d locked her up and raped her, I would so make their deaths slow.
I was about elegance in fashion, but vengeance in life.
You can’t grow up around bikers and not be happy to deal death to enemies.
And I’d had experience. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I was responsible for the shot.
“Hey, bitch, don’t run with my lipstick,” Bex called, jogging over with flushed cheeks and wild eyes.
I grinned at her, sadness creeping in. She was doing it. Finding a way through.
And she was making sure Rosie didn’t steal her lipstick—the bitch was notorious for that.
Rosie folded her arms. “Okay, I’ll give it back, but only if I can keep these boots,” she bargained.
I heard and watched the conversation, yet my attention was barely on it.
Bex must have felt the pull too, despite being all wrapped up in her own form of trouble.
The right kind.
Her eyes moved over the lithe form that exuded something, even from across the parking lot. He didn’t even look perturbed at the viewing party. Then again, his eyes were focused on me.
“Who’s the hunk?” Bex asked.
“Lucy’s boyfriend,” Rosie replied for me, obviously changing her mind and deciding that any trouble was good trouble.
I could get whiplash trying to keep up with her mood swings.
I scowled at her. “He is fucking not,” I hissed, then focused on Bex, gentling my gaze slightly. She didn’t deserve my wrath; that was reserved for my insane best friend and the annoying hunk across the way. “He’s my stalker,” I told her.
She grinned, not nearly as forced and full of pain as her previous month’s attempts had been.
It was almost worth seeing him to give her a reason to smile like that.
Almost.
She had Lucky to do that.
“Yeah, well, if I were you, I wouldn’t be so cut up about having such a hunk stalker. At least when he ties you up in the basement you’ve got something pretty to look at.”
She winked at me, a buzzing sounding from her pocket. She reached to grab it while her eyes flickered over to him once more. “I’m guessing you’ll be sticking around for the party after all?” she said with a certainty I did not like.
“No,” I snapped immediately.
At the very same time Rosie declared, “Yes,” confidently.
My head snapped to my best friend, my ice queen glare on full blast.
“Well, you two have fun working that out,” Bex said, a smile in her voice as she cradled the vibrating phone. She gave me a knowing look. “I’ll see you inside.”
I didn’t even wait until she turned her back to head to her man, phone at her ear.
“Have you ever heard of the fucking girl code?” I hissed at Rosie, giving her my full attention.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes. I had a hand in writing it. In a past life, at least,” she said confidently. “And section 22A directly says one shall not let one’s girlfriend fuck up a potentially mind-blowing orgasm with a hot soldier with muscles, tattoos and an accent, under the penalty of death.”
I raised my brow, folding my own arms. “And who will kill you if you don’t do that? I know who will if you do,” I threatened.
She grinned at me. “Try me, Lulu,” she taunted.
“Really, Zee? You’re going to try and butt into whatever this is that so isn’t my love life when I’ve kept silent for almost a decade about your fucking disaster?” I hissed.
Low blow, but I was getting desperate, as I sensed that Keltan wouldn’t stand there forever doing his best to encourage someone to carve him out of marble.
Indeed, his jaw turned hard, and he pushed off the SUV, his destination clear.
I stepped forward, intent on wrestling her for those fucking keys if need be so I could get the heck out of dodge and not stop until I reached Columbia. It was nice there when I rescued Rosie those years ago. The men didn’t speak the language, which meant no trouble.