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Walking through the door, I pull out my keys. As soon as I do, he takes them from me, and I don’t have it in me to fight him off. “Whatever,” I grunt out.
“Give me that.” He quickly snatches the flask from my hand.
“Hey!” I reach across him, trying to get it out of his hand, but he keeps me at bay.
Maybe I don’t press against him with more strength because I know what he’s doing is for the best. Maybe my brain is telling me there isn’t that much left in it to fight over. Whatever the reason, I stand there and watch as he hurries ahead of me toward a trash can near an elevator. Undoing the cap, he pours the remaining contents of it into the trash, then tosses the flask itself.
“Ass,” I hiss at him.
“You’ve called me worse before. Come on.” He grabs my shoulders, pulling me with him. We make it out to his Chevy Camaro, and he hits the key fob, starting the car up. Opening the passenger side door for me, he keeps an arm around me as if he’s helping a little kid into the car.
I push him away. “I can do it.”
“You sure?” he mocks me, lifting an eyebrow.
“Shut up and drive.”
He rolls his eyes and goes around to the driver’s side, getting in and starting it up. “Where are we going?” I ask.
“I’m taking you home.”
“No,” I quickly reply. “I don’t want to go there.”
“Why not?”
I bite my lip. Not only is it where I’ve been stewing over everything that’s happened this past weekend, but Adam’s also there, and he’s still pissed off at me.
“Maddox?”
I shake my head vehemently, staring through the windshield. “Anywhere but there.”
Pulling the car out of the garage, I have no idea where we’re going. I watch as we pass vehicles on the highway. I start fidgeting with my fingers, wishing I still had the flask so I could dull my senses more. He makes a couple of turns, and then we’re on a small road with bushes and trees on both sides. For a moment, I have no idea where he’s taking us. We come up to a huge sign at the start of a parking lot.
“The Hollywood Bowl?” I quirk an eyebrow.
He doesn’t answer. As we approach a security booth, he rolls down his tinted windows, and I hear a lady’s voice. “The Bowl’s closed to visitors.”
“Hey, how are you?” Derrik asks. I can already hear the charm in his voice.
“I-I’m good. Are you …”
“I am,” he says, and she lowers down and sees me.
I do my best to act my natural self and hide the fact that I’m buzzing right now. She looks like she’s on the younger side, maybe late twenties, with light brown hair pulled back. She’s dolled up in light blush and red lipstick.
“Oh my God,” she says low and slow.
“Would you mind if we took a stroll down the venue?”
“For the Kings of Karmichael, anything.”
“Thank you,” Derrik tells her, and pulls out a couple of our concert cards he has attached to his visor. “Here are some passes. We’re holding a Kings Court show here in a couple of months.”
“Oh, you’re amazing. Thank you!”
He nods and pulls through the security checkpoint, venturing toward the parking area for performers that’s closer to the stage area. Getting out of his car, the door shuts, and I stare through the front window. We’re near the back of the Bowl, but I don’t know why we’re here. And I still don’t want to talk.
“Hey!” he calls out. I look over at him to see him impatiently waving for me to follow him.
