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Dizzy slides into the front seat of our ride. A black Range Rover with tinted windows and cream interior. I open the back door as the guys make a line for it.
“Hey. That’s the girl,” someone says. “His girl. You’re Rogue’s girlfriend, right? You’re her.”
I can’t see from all the flashing lights. They brighten the street like a mini lightning storm.
“What’s your name? Who are you? What do you do?”
Ivy Love. I’m figuring it out. I haven’t decided. But I will.
Rebel guides his twin into the backseat, makes him duck so he doesn’t knock himself out on the chassis.
“We’ll put a statement out soon,” Summer tells the crowd as she heads toward the car behind ours. Giggles, probably because she’s a little bit tipsy and still managing to do her job superbly. “Until then you’ll just have to stay curious.”
“That’s my girl,” Rebel tells his brother with a smile while I watch Summer and Bianca climb into the other car. Riot joins them while Ethan exchanges pleasantries with the driver. “And your girl is going to fit in just fine with the rest of us. Be easy, bro.”
I blush because I don’t think I was supposed to hear that admission. Pretty damn certain about that when Rebel removes his body from the opening of the car and gives me a hard look. “Are you sure you’ve got this?”
I push past him and climb in beside Rogue. I grab the seatbelt that hangs by his shoulder and pull it down to clip him in. “I’ve got this.”
“All right.” Rebel closes the door. Taps the roof of the car before he steps back up the curb.
The Range Rover pulls out.
“We should probably make sure none of them follow us,” I say as I sink into the buttery leather beside Rogue. It’s been a long evening. Entirely too shitty. “Drive a little first before you drop us home.”
“Your house?” Dizzy asks me over her shoulder. “Or his?”
“His.” I lean between the front seats. Startle when I realize the guy who served us drinks earlier is now our driver.
“Will. This is Ivy. Ivy, Will.”
He nods. Smiles and his white teeth peek through his dark beard. “Trouble tonight?”
“A little. Thanks for driving us.”
“Anytime. Where are we going?”
I tell him our destination and then I sit back. Watch Dizzy and Will talk. There’s something about Dizzy that I just can’t put my finger on. Tonight she was phenomenal. But her and Ben… maybe that’s what doesn’t make sense.
Rogue’s hand steals into my lap, takes my fingers between his. He’s watching me, head tipped to the side against the seat. I don’t know that he sees me through those unfocused blue orbs though.
“I’m so fucking jealous of him. The guy who gets so much of your attention just by texting you. You jump every time he reaches out to you.” He sighs and slides closer to me. The scent of booze is heavy on his breath. It doesn’t kill the scent of perfume that still lingers. “You pull away every time I try to get closer.”
I lean back. I don’t want to smell her. It makes me feel sick. “I don’t.”
“You do,” he murmurs. “You just did.”
Dizzy turns the radio up in the front seat, giving us a modicum of privacy.
“That isn’t why.”
“You do, and I can’t keep fighting you on it. I’ve already been here and done this for far too much of my life. Caring about someone who isn’t even really here. Being stupidly optimistic and stubborn and hopeful when all they do is lash out. Or hate me. Or pretend I don’t exist.”
“Your mom?”
“It’s her birthday,” he says.
My heart breaks for him, recalling how wrecked he’d seem after some of his visits at the retreat. When his mom was having a bad day. Or when the orderlies had to watch her every move. I saw them sedate her once. It devastated him. “Bad day?”
