“Yeah, it is. My dad tried to keep it when I moved out here,” I sign to him from the passenger seat. “But I told him to go fuck himself since I’m the one who paid to get it fixed up.”
“Good. Your dad’s a fucking asshole.” Luke hammers the gas, and the tires spin as the car rips through the intersection.
“That he is,” I agree, glancing behind me at Emery.
Violet is in the backseat with Emery, staring out the window. The two of them haven’t uttered a word to each other, which isn’t surprising. Violet is an intense girl and doesn’t get along very well with others. Honestly, I think if the two of them gave each other a chance, they’d get along just fine. Both have had shitty lives and it seems like enough to strike up a conversation.
“So, now can you tell me where we’re going?” Emery asks, interrupting my thoughts.
Violet turns her head and gives me a look. “You haven’t told her where we’re going?”
I nonchalantly shrug. “I want to surprise her.”
Violet’s expression darkens with amusement. “How very boyfriendy of you.”
I roll my eyes, but a trace of a smile reaches my lips. I move my hand to sign that we’re just friends, but Emery beats me to the punch.
“We’re just friends,” she tells Violet. “And maybe not even that.”
“What does that even mean?” Violet wonders, staring at Emery through the darkness of the cab. “You’re like fuck buddies or something?”
Emery and I exchange a look, and then Emery quickly shakes her head. “No, not even close,” she replies to Violet then faces the window, letting her hair fall to the side of her face.
I think she might be blushing, and what I wouldn’t give to be able to see it.
“Say whatever you want,” Violet singsongs, crossing her arms and grinning. “But I don’t believe you.”
“You’re trying to cause trouble,” I sign to Violet, shooting her a warning look.
“I’m trying to put the truth out there,” she signs back, discreetly nodding her head in Violet’s direction. “You want her. You’re just afraid for some reason.”
“I’m not afraid.” My hands move firmly in front of me.
“Yes, you are,” she signs persistently. “You’re afraid to have something you want because you’re afraid of losing it. Trust me, I know these things because it’s how I used to be.”
She’s so very wrong. If I could, I’d take Emery in my arms and kiss her until she became breathless, like I did a few times before shit hit the fan. Now, she barely looks at me.
Even if she did allow me to kiss her, Doc would kill me if he found out. According to him, Emery is meant to be with Evan, her once ex-boyfriend. The two of them have gotten back together over the last few weeks, even though it’s apparent Emery loathes him. She cringes every time he touches her, frowns every time he looks at her, and tenses every time he speaks to her.
“He’s not afraid of himself,” Emery abruptly says, apparently watching my and Violet’s conversation. “He’s afraid of me.”
The cab grows awkwardly quiet, and I rotate back around in my seat and crank up some music. We make the rest of the drive in silence, and I get lost in my thoughts, wondering if that’s what Emery thinks, that I’m afraid of her. Her father, yes. Her, no fucking way.
I need to tell her that’s not true.
Ten minutes later, we’re filing into the club. The music is deafening, but in the best way possible, vibrating the floor and my chest. The air smells like salt and alcohol, and the lighting is hypnotically low.
Emery pauses in the entryway, staring wide-eyed at the crowded dance floor. “Holy shit,” her lips mouth. Her gaze finds the stage where the singer is belting lyrics into the microphone, and she stares at him with her lips parted.
I dip my lips toward her, grab her hand, and trace on her palm the words, “Is that a good shock or a bad one?”
She shivers from my touch. “Good shock.” She peers over her shoulder and our lips nearly brush. It’s the closest we’ve been to each other since Doc told her who I am. I want to eliminate the rest of the space between us, pull her closer, and devour her with my lips. Fear stops me, though. “Thank you. I’ve never been to a concert before.”
I step to the side of her to sign, “I didn’t think so.” Then I place my hand on the small of her back and steer her toward Violet and Luke who are standing at the bar in the midst of a clusterfuck of people.
“This band is crazy good!” Violet shouts over the music then leans over the counter to flag the bartender down.
A middle-aged guy with a thick beard strolls over to Violet to take her order, unsubtly checking her out. Luke inches forward and drapes an arm around Violet, claiming her. The bartender decides to back off, but his gaze ends up on Emery, staring at her in a way that makes my blood boil.
Emery is an outrageously gorgeous girl who turns a lot of heads. Unlike how Luke did with Violet, I can’t claim her because she’s not mine.
“What do you guys want?” Violet hollers, flipping her red and black hair off her shoulder as she turns to us. “Unless you guys want to order for yourselves.” She shoots me a teasing smirk, knowing Emery and I are underage and can’t order our own drinks.
“Are we going big or going home?” I ask Violet, for once glad I have to sign because it’s too damn loud to try to talk.
“Let’s go big!” Violet shouts, fist pumping the air.
Luke shakes his head, stifling a laugh. “I’m going to have my hands full, aren’t I?” He pulls her closer as she aims a devious grin at him.
I sign to Violet, “Shot of Jäger all around?” I glance back at Emery.
“I’ve never done shots except that one time at your place,” she admits, seeming embarrassed.
“We don’t have to drink at all,” I sign. “We can go listen to music and still have fun.”
She slowly shakes her head, deciding. “No, I want to do this.”
“Are you sure? Because we can just drink water, or Violet can get you a beer if you want.”
“No,” she replies firmly, straightening her stance. “I want to do shots.”
When I still appear uncertain, Violet swats my arm. “Let the girl have fun, Ryler. Jesus.” Then she turns back to the bartender and orders three shots of Jäger.
The bartender fills our order, and the three of us throw back the shots. We slam our glasses down on the bar, and I restrain a laugh when Emery shudders and chokes on a cough.
“You good?” I check.
She nods with her hand pressed to her chest.
Violet orders us another round and then another. Emery’s confidence seems to grow with each shot as she sucks each one down easier
“I feel so nice and warm inside,” Emery remarks as she places the empty shot glass down on the counter.
Violet gives her a high five, and then they both bust up laughing, stumbling around as they work to catch their breaths. Like Emery, Violet isn’t the biggest drinker.
“We’re going to have our hands full tonight,” Luke comments with amusement, leaning against the counter. “Aren’t we?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I look over at Violet and Emery who are giggling about something, as if they’re best friends sharing a secret. I just hope Emery doesn’t find out how we are really connected. The last thing I need is to have to explain to Luke and Violet what’s going on.
“Let’s go get a table,” Violet declares after ordering another round of shots and paying the bartender. “Or should we go dance?”
Luke stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocks back on his heels, looking utterly amused. “Whatever you want.”
“Let’s dance, then.” She throws back the drink in her hand, sets the glass down, and then the two of them disappear in the crowd.
Emery’s gaze slides to me. “What are we going to do?”
>
A thousand dirty thoughts cross my mind, but I can’t act on any of them.
“We are going to finish our drinks.” I raise the glass, and she clinks hers against mine.
I watch her as she lifts the brim to her lips, sucks the drink out, and then places the glass down. “It’s starting to taste better.” She wipes her lips with the back of her hand.
“That’s because you’ve had four.” I tip my head back, devour my drink, and then slip my free hand through Emery’s. Then I leave the empty glass on the counter and tug her through the mob of intoxicated people.