AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” His whole body groans. Sways. “Who is T-Swift, Ivy? What are you hiding? What will it take to get you to open up to me?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ivy
“It’s time to go home,” Rebel says and Rogue’s weight is no longer bearing down on me. “Home to bed. You’re going to feel like shit in the morning.”
“Already do.” Rogue taps his twin on the chest as Rebel keeps him upright.
“Our ride is out front,” Dizzy says, reappearing at my side. “Are you ready to leave?”
I nod. “Let’s go.”
Rogue snags my hand. Holds it to his chest. “Stay with me? Please. Don’t run from us. Not to him.”
“How’re we doing, big fella?” Riot’s in a jovial mood. He props a shoulder under his brother’s arm so that they have him strung between the two of them. He slaps an affectionate hand to Rogue’s chest. “Really screwed the pooch tonight, huh?”
“Don’t go to him,” Rogue says.
“There is no him. No he.” What on earth am I dreaming about when I’m in his arms? Unless… I’ve been having nightmares. About Alec. And Adira. And probably all of them here tonight.
Two sets of blue eyes stare me down over his shoulders. Wary. And confused.
“Just come home wit’ me,” Rogue says like he doesn’t hold out hope. Like he’s exhausted with me. But he can’t bring himself to let go.
“You kissed someone else,” I remind him in a broken whisper. And I need a moment to think. I need time. It’s true that I’ve run. I’m still running. It feels like that’s all I ever do.
“It’s been a bad, bad day,” he says. “So bad.”
I glance at Rebel and he nods. Blue eyes so similar to Rogue’s are full of sadness and certainty. “He won’t remember any of this in the morning. Not one thing. Honestly, he shouldn’t be standing. But he’s always been good at walking in a straight line.”
“Once stole a trained sheep off a movie set, he was so drunk.” Riot laughs. “Little white sheep with a black nose. Beverly Hills police picked him up strolling down Wiltshire with the ewe over his shoulders.”
“Seriously?” It sounds like something out of a movie. Throw in a peppy whistle during that walk and maybe some kind of musical number, and we could option the rights to a screen play.
“They Breathalyzed him,” Rebel says. “BAC was through the roof. He spent a couple hours at the hospital. Then slept it off. Didn’t remember any of it the next morning. Just wondered why he smelled like a barn animal. Didn’t even remember when the pictures came out.”
“The producers loved it though.” Riot smirks at Rebel. “Free publicity.”
“So he won’t remember kissing that girl?” My gaze moves to the balcony. Surely that isn’t possible. He was there. He participated. “That’s what you’re telling me. What you want me to believe?”
“I’d wager Emmy on it.” Rebel shrugs.
“Emmy?”
“My Impala,” he says, all pride and shining eyes. “She’s a classic. First car I bought when I made it big. All yours if he remembers any of this tomorrow. I swear to God. Summer will vouch that I’m telling the truth. Emmy is my baby.”
“He really won’t recall a damn thing.” Riot nods. “Pity. Emmy is a sweet ride. You would enjoy her, Love.”
“So he’s really drunk then?”
“Shit-faced.” Rebel shifts Rogue’s weight so he can get a better grip. “Hides it well, right?”
“What are we doing with him?” Riot asks, balancing him out on the other side. “You taking him home? Or is he going to wake up wondering why you don’t want to see him again?”
“You let this happen.” I narrow my gaze on Rebel. On Riot. “You do realize that, don’t you? You let some girl kiss him. You didn’t stop it. If he’s that drunk…if he’s so wasted he won’t remember…”
