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“But you can’t even hear the word cock without blushing. You’re there because you like it there and for no other reason.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Most times, I went to The Strip to run away.
“What’s so bad about that?” I asked.
He reached up and ran his long, tatted fingers through his thick hair. “It’d bad because people who come because they like it tend to stay. You’re better than that.”
I blinked, shocked at his words.
Was he saying I was too good?
“You’re too soft. Too sweet. They’ll eat you alive.”
As if realizing his words were borderline complimentary, his expression darkened, and his shoulders went stiff.
“And while you’re at it, stay out of your brother’s shit, too,” he snapped angrily, compensating for his semi-sweet slip. “He’s getting himself mixed up with the wrong type of people.”
I tried not to grin, but I couldn’t help it. “You mean people like you?”
His nostrils flared, and his expression shifted until he was glaring down at me.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He turned away and climbed onto his bike. Then he slowly walked it backward before tugging his handkerchief over his nose and hiding half of his face.
“See you around, Cherry Girl,” he said.
“My name’s Everly.”
His eyes beamed back at me, but I couldn’t see his mouth to know if he was smiling. “I know, but that name’s not as fun.”
And then he was gone, his bike screaming into the night until I heard it disappear.
12 Everly
I WAS ALONE FOR THE REST OF THE DAY.I read and cleaned my room between chapters. I was in the kitchen, grabbing a late dinner when Mom and Will came home.
They were laughing as they fell into the front door, smelling like smoke and alcohol. Without acknowledging me, they disappeared into their bedroom, leaving me alone once again.
It was like living with two errant teenagers.
I set my plate on the kitchen table and sat down. Scrolling through my phone, I nibbled at my sandwich and stalked Zada’s Instagram for pictures of bikers. It was embarrassing to say, but I hadn’t stopped thinking about Aiken since he dropped me off.
Twenty minutes and several Instagram profiles later, Will appeared in the kitchen doorway. He was shirtless, his tattoos dark and scrawling over his chest and shoulders. I noticed both of his nipples were pierced before I swiftly turned my head and looked back down at my phone.
He chuckled before going over and pulling the refrigerator open for a beer.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked.
He leaned against the refrigerator and took a swig from his bottle. He stared back at me with glazed, bloodshot eyes that moved all over my body. His lips lifted into a smirk that was supposed to be friendly but somehow came across as creepy.
“She passed out. What are you doing, pretty Everly?”
My shoulders went stiff, and I stop chewing the bite of the sandwich I had just taken. I didn’t like the way he said my name. It was as if his tongue was caressing every letter of it. And that fact that he called me pretty was just gross. Even if he meant in a friendly manner, I didn’t like it. It sent an unnerving chill over my body.
“Just getting a late-night snack before bed. Did you guys have a nice night?” I asked, changing the subject from me to him.
Standing, I tossed the rest of my sandwich in the trash. The need to go to my bedroom was pushing at my back like a two-hundred-pound weight. My hands shook as I rinsed my plate, letting the hot water roll over the bits of mayo left behind. It stung my fingers, but I rushed through washing and rinsing before I stuck the plate in the dish drainer.
