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“Not here.” His tone was casual. He didn’t seem phased by her rudeness, not taking his eyes off me to answer.
As we remained in a deadlock, his gaze seemed to grow that much more intense. Piercing. That was a better way to describe it. He wasn’t looking at me, but into me, as if the armored shell I’d encased myself in was transparent.
“Stop Lana. turn away.” I repeated inside my head to no avail, caught-up in a tidal wave of blue. Something about him was oddly familiar. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was or why this slithered into the back of my subconscious. I was one thousand percent sure I didn’t know this guy. He had a face that would be hard to forget no matter the circumstance.
“I’m Ciaran,” he introduced himself, as if he’d just plucked the thought of me not knowing him from my head.
“Maverick.” The guy beside him leaned forward with a smile, giving me a small wave after he palmed a few loose strands of hair back into place.
His dark eyes lingered on Melantha for a full two seconds before he sat back again.
“The two assholes behind us our Charon and Kyrous,” Ciaran continued.
His introduction invoked their laughter, but neither of them looked away from what they were staring at.
With him disclosing their names, it seemed only natural to share ours in return. I pointed to each of the girls. “Gracelyn. Melantha.” Then motioned to myself, “Liliana, but everyone calls me Lana for short.”
“I knew a Liliana once,” Ciaran mused. “You’re a lot prettier than she was.”
“Wow. How smooth,” Gracelyn jested with a laugh.
“Effortless too,” he shot back, tacking on a cocky smirk.
I was semi-confused. Was that meant to be a compliment? I was an average chick with some Hispanic roots. My hair was black as coal, long with soft waves. Eyes were brown, skin naturally bronze. I stood barely over five feet tall and while my stomach was flat, I’d inherited my mama’s hips with an ass that jiggled to match.
I didn’t have self-esteem issues or anything, but I was also acutely aware of how I looked in that very moment.
Yesterday I’d been glammed up and ready to take on the world. Now? I didn’t have on a stitch of make-up aside from some lip gloss. My red bottomed heels along with a hoochiefied bodycon dress, had been swapped for skinny fit sweats, a midriff T, and some retro Js.
The only thing going for me was that I’d taken a quick hoe-bath and brushed my hair right before zombie walking onto this shuttle.
“Were you staying at the Royal Palms?” one of the guys behind him asked.
I remembered their names seeing as Ciaran had just introduced them, but only now that they weren’t immersed in the screen of a phone was I able to see that they were twins with subtle differences between them.
One had amber eyes while the others were nearly the same shade as whiskey. Their hair was styled a tad bit differently too. Unfortunately, none of that helped me determine who was Charon and which one was Kyrous.
“Nope, we just decided to hitch a free ride to the airport,” Melantha replied.
Her tone was so casual, it would be easy to miss that she was being a smartass.
The twin closest to the window looked as if he were about to say something, but the shuttle suddenly swerved without warning. A horn blared from another lane as a mix of gasps, a surprised scream, and curse words filled the cabin.
I gripped the leather headrest in front of me to stay planted in my seat. Once we were moving forward steadily again, I quickly checked over Gracelyn and Melantha.
“What the fuck was that about?” Maverick wondered aloud.
As if to answer him personally, the music stopped, and the driver’s voice came through the overhead speakers.
“Uh, really sorry about that, folks. The usual routes shut down. I guess we’ll be taking a small detour.”
Someone up front, a man with greying hair began to complain. The driver cut him off while still broadcasting his voice through the speaker.
“Rest assured this will only add about ten minutes to the ride. I know you’ve all got flights to catch, you can count on me to get you exactly where ya need to be.” He clicked off and music began to play once more.
“He guesses?” Maverick questioned with a scoff.
Ciaran said something to me, but I didn’t respond. I was too concerned about the song that had begun to play. The soft strumming of a guitar and encore of drums accompanied a chillingly familiar track.
