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Jessica laughed. “Were all the people who attended your family’s parties your friends?”
I almost answered in the affirmative but stopped myself. Because how could I answer “yes” when none of them had stuck around after my father got arrested?
The dark-haired girl smiled at me, almost sadly. “Hey, don’t worry about it, Cordelia. If it makes you feel any better, I like that you’re here—not for your social standing or whatever shit, but just ’cause I like you. You’re pretty chill for a rich girl.” She grinned, waggling her eyebrows. “And the boys inviting you over means a lot, sooo…”
I took another sip, wishing the drink could cool the flush rising in my cheeks. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it isn’t like they just invite girls with them everywhere they go. I mean, I guess you’re aware they share sometimes, but that doesn’t mean every time—and it doesn’t mean every girl gets the pleasure of being out in public with them. I don’t know the extent of your arrangement, but they wouldn’t drag you out here if they didn’t want you here. You get it?”
Honestly? No, I didn’t. But it didn’t stop me from glancing their way, my gaze curious as I watched Bishop and Misael banter back and forth with each other. Even Kace seemed in a better mood now that there was a beer in his hand.
I shifted, turning back to face Jessica.
“So… they like me?”
I didn’t see how on Earth that could possibly be true—especially when, as far as I knew, they still hated my father with a burning vengeance.
They all wanted me, were attracted to me. I was pretty sure of that. But it was entirely possible to be completely drawn to someone physically and still not be sure if you liked them at all, as evidenced by my own feelings about the Lost Boys.
Jessica tossed her hair over her shoulder, laughing.
“Who the fuck knows with those three? I just know they keep glancing over here when you’re not looking at them. Maybe friend isn’t a good word for it—but they’re all interested in you.”
Again, a little thrill went through me. I couldn’t decide whether to be terrified by her statement or to lean into the mutual attraction that seemed to hang like a cloud over me and the Lost Boys, to throw myself into those feelings and indulge in them. To kill the last vestiges of the prim and proper Cora that still lived inside me.
God, when did my life get so damn confusing?
Jessica and I continued to talk, and I continued to steal glances at the Lost Boys now and then when I could. I thought I was discrete about it, but sometimes I would catch one of their gazes, and they’d always linger when I did.
I had to wonder if what Jessica said was true—that there was something indefinable drawing them to me and me to them. It wasn’t like we hadn’t crossed several lines already. All three of them had had their hands on me at one point or another.
About an hour into the night—and a couple of wine coolers that had me comfortably buzzed—Bishop got a call. He was in the middle of telling a story, talking animatedly as he glanced down to check the caller ID. As soon as he registered the name on the screen, his expression hardened and he answered, rising from the couch.
“Yeah, it’s Bish. What do you need?”
He sounded surprisingly serious, like he was talking to someone that held authority. It was a strange change from how he usually was, namely because if anything, Bishop was always the authority in any situation. It sent a shiver down my spine to watch him listen silently to whoever was on the other end of the call. He nodded, gave an affirmation, and then hung up.
“Looks like we got a job,” he said. I was surprised to see how weary he looked at the thought of it. But, a job? This late? And I’d never heard any of the Lost Boys talk about having work before.
Then again, I had seen them suspiciously leaning over into spooky black cars, so it was hard to say what kind of “work” it was that they might be doing.
Misael sighed, then quickly finished up his beer.
“Weak. Always when we’re trying to have some damn fun.” He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.
“At least we get paid,” Kace
muttered, downing his beer too before chucking the empty bottle in a bin near the bar. He looked over to me. “Finish that up. You’re coming with.”
I stared at the three of them in confusion.
“What? To work?”
“Yeah. If we leave you here without us, you’ll be a sitting duck. People will get too shit-faced to remember the rules, and even if we break their fuckin’ knees for it tomorrow, it won’t undo what they did.”
“Jessica and Liam are here.”
“Jessica and Liam will be boning in an hour. Come on. We don’t have all night.”
