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Rose sneers at her, getting to her feet while sweeping her hair up into a high ponytail. “Fuck you.”
Val beams a smile at her, wicked enough to match Maleficent. “You’re so welcome, precious.” She tosses a bottle of water at Rose’s chest, who catches it instantly. “You’re in. Don’t piss me off.” Then she turns to leave. I take this moment to head straight for Rose, checking her over.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, noticing the purple and red bruises all over her body.
“I’m fine.” She offers me a gentle smile. One that doesn’t reach her eyes. One that illustrates just how not okay she is.
“Well, at least you’re with girls and not four males who may or may not murder you…” I murmur.
Rose’s eyes flick over my shoulder, and I follow. My jaw clenches when I see King seated a few rows behind where I was, his eyes lazy and his lips in a flat line. I hate that my stomach and chest feel as though they’ve been punched every time I find him watching me. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly handsome?
“I don’t know.” Rose bumps her shoulder with mine. “Seems like a pretty good way to wake up dead.”
I roll my eyes. “Rosé, you don’t wake up if you’re dead.”
She laughs at my nickname for her, picking up her tossed hoodie and slipping it over her slender shoulders. “Always so smart.”
I leave her a little bit after that and head back to our RV. Swinging the door open, I lazily make my way to the back where my bed is, kicking off my shoes and jeans and falling onto my bed, before losing myself in a deep sleep.
A jolt jerks me awake as the sun burns my skin through the window, warming me from the outside in. We’re moving. I climb from the bed, squeezing some booty shorts on and tiptoe out of my room and down toward the front of the RV, leaning against the walls every time we hit a bump or turn.
“Where are we going?” I ask no one in particular, but as soon as I reach the front, I see the same guy who was in here when I moved in.
“Morning, Birdie. We’re headed to New York. You’re up early.”
I lean against the passenger seat. “I’m not used to sleeping in a moving vehicle.”
He chuckles, and it’s then that I see the gold tooth in his mouth. He’s a big boy. A little short for my taste, and obviously too old, but he’s attractive. “There’s going to be a lot that you will need to get used to, Little Bird.”
I tug my hair out of its ponytail and throw it all back into a high twist bun. “I’m sure there is. Do you drink coffee?”
“Black, please.”
“Cool.” I turn around to head into the kitchen as Kingston walks down the stairs, wearing only grey sweat shorts that dangle way too low on his hips.
Focus.
I ignore him and start the coffee. I’m grabbing two mugs when I feel the heat radiating from him. He’s right beside me, reaching for something above my head.
I freeze at his proximity. The smell of lathered soap, honey, and ash quickly becoming a heady combination of sin.
Jesus.
I close my eyes and exhale, rolling up the sleeves of the hoodie I’m still wearing. I reach for the pot of coffee and pour two cups. I need to get the fuck—The side of his midsection brushes against my arm, and I involuntarily flinch away from him, unwilling to acknowledge the zap that coursed through him to me.
“Sorry,” I mutter, stepping away.
King doesn’t answer. He doesn’t so much as pay me any attention as he pours granola into his bowl. His proximity is toxic, the invisible grip of his fist around my throat, threatening to choke me. Giving a whole new meaning to take my breath away. After pouring black liquid into mugs, I turn for the cutlery drawer when the RV swerves, and I fall into his warm chest.
“I’m sorry.” I shove away from him, but then yank my hands back when the feeling of his skin almost electrocutes me.
He shoves me away, glaring at me like I’m an annoying child, and he’s the hot babysitter who can’t be bothered with my shit. “Stop fucking apologizing.” He grabs a spoon for him and then one for me, tossing it across the kitchen counter.
“Thanks.” I take the spoon and stir sugar into my mug. He lowers himself onto one of the stools, ignoring me while spooning mouthfuls of granola into his mouth. Deciding to leave it at that, I turn to head back to the front of the RV when his voice stops me in my tracks.
“Oh, and Dove?”
I turn over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
His tongue flicks over his lower lip as he points to my back with his spoon. “Take my fucking hoodie off.”
