“I-I don’t know.”
He whips his head back and forth, and my heart shrivels at the horrified look on his face. “You’re just a fucking kid.”
I frown, hating the word kid. Kid. Like I’m some baby, a juvenile that doesn’t know what she wants.
For just a moment, I thought he finally saw me… for me. Not a poor girl. Not a kid. Not someone who gets treated like shit from everyone around him.
I guess I was wrong.
I rip my arms from his hold, and he lets me, his face screwed up with so many different emotions that I can’t even read one.
“I have to go,” I say, lowering my face to the cigarette-burnt ground and walking toward the door.
“Iris, wait,” he barks at me.
I take a breath, wanting to ignore him and leave. Walk out of here and back to the party. I don’t want to care. I don’t want to listen to another word he has to say. I’m so incredibly frustrated.
I thought he understood me. I thought we were on the same level, and for just a moment, I thought we understood each other.
I thought he felt what I felt.
How incredibly wrong I was.
But I can’t. So I stay where I am, listening as his footsteps come closer, to the point where I can once again feel the heat of him against my back. I take a shaky breath, feeling so out of sorts. I’ve never wanted anyone, not like this, anyway. My life has been filled with half-assed encounters with boys who I’m somewhat attracted to who don’t like me back because I’m three cents to being homeless, and grown men who think I’m a fucking diamond and want to touch me at first glance. I hate it, there’s never been any middle ground. I’ve never… wanted this badly.
Until now.
“I’m so embarrassed,” I whisper at the door, refusing to see his face. I don’t want to see the pity.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just… you’re a kid, Iris.”
My nostrils flare, and my hand goes to the knob, swinging the door open and leaving him in the dark behind me.
I’m not a child.
Fuck that. Fuck him.
Chapter 7
“Violet,” I mumble, shoving her thigh. She doesn’t move from the couch, her head on the arm. Eyes closed.
Passed out.
“Violet, I need to go home.” I feel drunk. No, I am drunk.
Violet and I ended up having more than one drink. The moment Haley turned her head, occupied by other people, Violet made one fruity cocktail after another.
One. Two. Three. I don’t know how many, exactly. But it no longer tasted like liquor and started tasting delicious. I couldn’t stop.
I’m also irritated.
Avoiding Lynx at all costs didn’t become hard once my vision started darkening. The amount of people also made it easy, since the flood of leather meshed them all together in a sea of darkness. I slinked into the corner with Violet, and we drank and laughed and had a good fucking time.
A good time. When is the last time I actually enjoyed myself? I can’t remember the last time I had a smile on my face or felt a laugh burst from my chest.
But now I’m tired drunk. Stupid drunk. I need to go home, where I can wither away and recoup.
And I have no way to get home on my own.
I roll over, falling on Violet’s hip. Her hand lifts, and she slaps me in the arm, groaning as she buries her face deeper into the couch. “Leave me alone,” she moans.
My fingers grip her arm. “Violet, can you bring me home?”
She shakes her head. “Stay here.”
My head whips back and forth, and it makes my head pound across my forehead and into my eyes. “No, please…”
“Iris.” My name coming from a raspy voice causes a chill to run along my spine. I spin around, seeing Lynx stand there with a blank look on his face. “Let me take you home.”
My mouth opens to protest, my eyes flitting to back to Violet.
“Violet’s not leaving this couch until morning, and even if she was, I’d never let her get behind the wheel of a car. You two are fucking fools for drinking as much as you did.”
“We didn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me.” His tone is stern, fucking disappointed, and I’m both irritated and once again ashamed.
My eyes drop to the ground, and I can feel his burning into the top of my head. “Let me take you home,” he repeats.
I nod, knowing there’s no other choice I have at this point. It’s either go with Lynx, or stay here for the night. With one last glance at Violet, I shove off the couch and follow Lynx out of the front door. Most of the people are gone now, only a few lingering bikers sitting at the bar. Haley is gone, too, probably having gone to bed for the night.
Eyes follow me as I walk through with their President.
Why is he doing this? Is it because he feels bad for earlier? Or is he just trying to be a good guy? I almost laugh at that. He doesn’t seem like someone who cares about whether he’s a good guy or not. He seems like does what he wants when he wants.
I wrap my arms around my stomach as we step into the cool air. He walks up to a bike, the largest motorcycle out of the entire row. It’s filled with black and chrome and looks so deadly that I take a step back. “I can’t ride on that.”
He swings his leg over the seat, sitting down as he lifts it off the kickstand. “Why is that?”
“Don’t you have a car or something? There isn’t even enough room for me.” There’s plenty of room, but I’ll have to sit right up against him, and that seems like the most dangerous thing to do after what happened earlier.
“Darlin’, I haven’t driven or ridden in a car in years. If I’m not on my bike, I ain’t goin’, so get on, or go back inside and get to sleep.”
I bite my lip, watching him watch me. It’s the middle of the night, and all the lights are off. We stand in the dark, save for the moon hanging high in the sky. A light blanket of snow that must have fallen over the last few hours covers our surroundings in white. It won’t be snowing at home, and it feels weird to see it here. Completely abnormal with palm trees only a handful of miles away.
He shifts to get off his bike, and my hands fly up. “Wait, I’m coming.” Walking to the side of the bike, I swing my leg over, but the seat is so high I can barely reach my ankle to meet the other side. His arm snaps back to help me, his strong fingers digging into the meat of my thigh as he holds me in place. I stay perfectly still as his hand slides up, barely touching my butt before he grips onto the fabric of my leggings near my hip and pulls me the rest of the way onto his bike. I fly up, my butt slamming back onto the padded seat. My hands instantly go to his sides, and they’re so strong and toned, I can’t help as my fingers curl, burying against the hardened muscles.
Jesus.
He stiffens against me but doesn’t say anything as his fingers curl behind my knees and pull me forward, until my front snuggles directly against his back.
I’m not a religious person, but if I were, I’d be praying right about now.
His hands release my legs and go to the handlebars. Switching on his motorcycle, the heavy rumble vibrates beneath me. I can’t hear anything, I can barely even think as the smell of winter pine and smoke invades me.