“What are you doing?” Sebastian asks.
“Calling a cab.”
He snatches the phone from my hand, hitting the red button to cancel the call. “I’ll take you.”
“No, that’s really okay,” I insist, reaching for my phone, but Sebastian raises it out of my reach.
“I’m not letting you take a cab, Evan.”
Too tired to fight, I give in, secretly relieved that I don’t have to shell out more cash to get home. I let Sebastian pull me to my feet, saying my goodbyes to the guys. Eros gives me a giant bear hug, and Tres and Lathan give me a wave.
When we approach a bike, I stop short, cutting my eyes at Sebastian. “Don’t you have a normal vehicle? Preferably one with four wheels?”
“I could take one of the trucks,” he starts. “But then I wouldn’t be able to feel those legs wrapped around me. Where’s the fun in that?”
For the second time tonight, he’s managed to render me speechless. At least when he was a jerk, I knew what to expect. Now, it’s all a guessing game. I squirm under his gaze and he smirks, like he knows what’s going through my head, and then closes the distance between us.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, just like he did the first night we met. He takes my eye roll as a yes and lifts me by my waist, depositing me on the back of his bike. His hands linger on the sides of my hips as he settles into the space between my legs, causing my dress to ride up.
His teeth scrape along his bottom lip as he looks down at me. I need him to kiss me. I need to see if what I felt that first night was just a fluke, or if it’s something only Sebastian can give to me. What if I’ve just been romanticizing the whole thing for two years?
Going for bold, I grab a fist full of his dirty white T-shirt and pull. Sebastian doesn’t hesitate. He kisses me like he’s been waiting just as long as I have. The second his lips hit mine, I know. It’s not a fluke. Not just some little girl reeling over her first kiss. It’s him. It’s in the way his hands move up to grip the back of my head, angling me where he wants me. It’s in the way he bends his knees to deepen the kiss. It’s the way he groans when my tongue touches his.
“Get a room!” Eros yells. I pull away, breathless, but Sebastian isn’t done yet. He raises his middle finger in their direction without looking and dives back in for more. “Or, you know. Give us a free show. That’s cool, too.”
This time Sebastian is the one to pull away. The way he swivels his head and glares at Eros is like something out of a horror movie, but Eros only laughs.
“Let’s go.”
I nod, biting my bottom lip that’s vibrating with his kiss. Sebastian disappears for a minute before returning with a helmet in hand. I pull my hair tie out, letting my hair fall down. The curls from earlier are still hanging in there, reminding me that I graduated today. I almost forgot. Why does spending time with Sebastian and company always feel like I’ve taken a trip into an alternate reality? It only now occurs to me that maybe that’s exactly the reason I find myself seeking out the carnival every chance I get.
Unlike the first time I was on the back of Sebastian’s motorcycle, it’s too warm for a jacket, even at this time of night. He straddles the seat, kicking the kickstand back in place. Reaching back for my hands, he brings one and then the other to wrap around his waist. His shirt sticks to his sweaty skin, and I can feel his heat through the fabric.
“Is this a different bike?” I ask. Something feels different.
I feel his chest shaking with laughter. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Princess. Last time, you rode on my dirt bike. Lightweight and high torque for the cage. This is a sport bike. Faster. And this one is street legal,” he tacks on. He may as well be speaking another language.
“It’s black and it has two wheels.” I shrug. I’m surprised I noticed a difference at all.
With the touch of a button, the sport bike purrs to life.
“Watch your legs. The exhaust will burn you,” he explains. “Where do you live?”
I tell him my address, waiting for the confused expression when he realizes what side of town I’m living on, but it doesn’t come. He simply nods without judgment. And judgment still doesn’t come when we pull into my empty driveway either. Grabbing ahold of my right thigh, Sebastian swivels me around so I’m straddling his lap, then he kills the engine.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, more intuitive than I gave him credit for as he unbuckles my helmet, carefully pulling it off my head. I stare blankly over his shoulder, not wanting to make eye contact.
“Nothing.” Everything.
“Don’t lie to me. Your whole demeanor changed as soon as we got here. Your body went rigid.”
“I just… I don’t want to go in there yet.” I don’t want to go back to reality.
“I can think of a few things we can do to kill some time,” Sebastian says, hands squeezing my ass. His eyes flick down, and he groans. I follow his gaze, only to realize that a sliver of my nude lacy underwear is exposed with the way I’m sitting. Knowing I affect him makes me feel powerful. And more than a little turned on.
I shift my hips, just a little, and Sebastian curses under his breath. I do it once more, and this time, he pushes the kickstand out with his foot as his hands help me along, pulling me into the hardness beneath his jeans. I gasp, and Sebastian takes advantage, sliding his tongue inside my mouth. Legs dangling over his, we kiss and grind into each other until I think I might actually burst into flames from all the heat coursing through me.
“Fuck, Evan. Stop.”
“Why?” I whine, not ready to let this feeling go.
“Because as good as this feels, I’m going to fuck you, on this bike, right out here in the open if we don’t stop.”
Lust overshadows practical thinking when I ask, “Do you want to come inside?” I know it’s crazy even as I suggest it.
He pulls a face. “Somehow I don’t think your parents will be cool with that.”
“They won’t care.” Or know. “I told you. Things are different now.”
Sebastian leans back, smoothing his palms up and down my thighs, and I can tell he’s contemplating risk versus reward. I don’t blame him. Things didn’t exactly work out for him the first time he touched me like this.
“Fuck it.” His hands circle my waist before planting me on the ground. My stomach flips when he swings a leg over his bike and follows me toward the front door and down the hall to my bedroom. I kick my door shut, and before it’s all the way closed, Sebastian’s mouth is on me.
“You eighteen yet?” he rasps between kisses. I laugh, my head falling back against the door, and Sebastian bites into my neck. My laughter turns into a moan, and then he’s licking away the sting. “I’ve been thinking about the way you taste for two fucking years.”
Pushing off the door, I grab his hand, leading him toward my bed. The only light is coming from the fairy lights hanging above my bed that I forgot to turn off earlier. I shove him down, climbing on top of him. My thighs straddle his torso, and I watch him intently as he takes in my room.
“These look familiar,” he says, flicking his chin toward the strands of lights.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he’s the reason they’re there in the first place. That these lights have helped me way more than any inanimate object should. Instead of saying anything at all, I lean forward, my wind-tossed hair falling around him like a curtain, as I press my lips to his. With a groan, Sebastian flips me onto my back, settling in between my thighs.
I didn’t plan for it to go this far, but now that I’m here, I don’t want to turn back. And when Sebastian’s hand finds the warmth between my legs, I really don’t want to turn back. I gasp loudly, unable to keep quiet.
“Shh,” he whispers, covering my mouth with one hand as the other deftly rubs me through my underwear.
“Shit,” I breathe. “I forgot to lock my door.”
Sebastian pushes off me, heading for the door, when he trips over some
thing. “Fuck,” he mutters, slapping at the wall until he finds the switch, bathing the room in light.
“What the…?” I trail off, taking in the scene in front of me. My dresser drawers are askew, one of them lying on my floor, with my clothes littering the carpet. “No…” A sinking feeling hits my stomach, and I stand abruptly. My box. My eyes land on the empty box, the flyer from the carnival and my passport lying beside it.
“Evan, what’s going on?” Sebastian asks, and I think it’s concern I hear in his voice, but I’m too blinded by rage and heartbreak to know for sure.
Fists clenched at my side, I storm out of my room, heading for my dad’s. His door is locked, of course, so I pound my fists against the cheap wood. “Open the door!” I scream. How could he do this to me?
Sebastian comes up behind me as I’m attempting to kick the door down. “Unlock this. Please,” I beg, uncaring of how insane I must look right now.
“Can you just tell me what the fuck is going on?” he asks, but he pulls out a pocketknife, popping the lock in two seconds flat. When I throw the door open, my dad is sitting on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped.
“What do you want?” he slurs. “I know you…” He squints one eye, pointing an unsteady finger at Sebastian. I slide my eyes at Sebastian who’s glaring at my dad. He’s so high, he probably thinks Sebastian’s the president of the United States.
“Where is it?” I demand, pulling open drawers and flipping blankets.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, nodding off.
“Goddammit, Dad,” I say, starting to panic. “Where’s the rest of it?” There’s no way he spent that much money in one night.
“Evan…” Sebastian says cautiously, like he’s speaking to a cornered animal.
“Just go,” I snap.
“I’m not fucking leaving you here,” he says, his eyes bouncing between me and my poor excuse for a father.
“Where are the pills, Dad?” I yell. I notice his fist closed around something, and I dive for it. Dad shoves me away, and I fall backward onto my ass, my lower back stinging from hitting the corner of his dresser. Sebastian is on him in a flash, hand closed around his throat, pinning him to the mattress.
“Don’t hurt him!”
“Are you okay?” he grinds out.
“I’m fine.” I nod, but I’m not fucking fine. My dad just took everything from me. Every penny to my name and every hope I had that he’d get better. Spying a small bottle in his hand, I scramble toward the bed, pry the bottle of pills out from his fingers, and flush them down the toilet in his master bathroom. Sebastian holds him in place as my dad screams obscenities at the both of us. Once the pills are gone, I prowl back over to the bed. My dad’s face is purple as he strains against Sebastian’s hold. It’s hard to believe this man is the same man as the well-respected surgeon and the doting father he once was.
“You and I,” I say, looking down at the father I no longer recognize. “We’re done.”
“Go pack a bag,” Sebastian states, not asks, still pinning my dad to the bed. “You’re not staying here tonight.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I won’t hurt him, Evan. Pack your shit,” he says through clenched teeth.
I feel my bottom lip tremble, but I don’t allow myself to let a single tear fall. I look around my room, not knowing where to start. How is this my life? I take a deep breath, regaining my composure, mentally planning my next steps. Tonight, I’ll stay with Sebastian. I’ll come home and talk to my mom tomorrow, and then I’ll figure out where to go from there.
I turn toward my closet, grabbing an old backpack from the top shelf before dropping to my knees, stuffing whichever article of clothing my hands touch first into my bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sebastian enter the room, bending over to pluck something from the pile of clothes. Held between his thumb and forefinger is his leather jacket. The one I said I didn’t have. Sitting on my knees, I meet his eyes to gauge his reaction. I don’t have it in me to make excuses or defend myself right now. Sebastian holds my gaze, giving nothing away. Finally, he simply folds it over his forearm without a word.
How is it that after everything that’s happened tonight, Sebastian reclaiming his leather jacket is the thing that threatens to send me over the edge and make me cry? My normal meter is clearly broken.
I stand, throwing my bag onto my bed before running to the bathroom to grab a toothbrush. When I return, Sebastian is sitting on my bed, inspecting the posters on my walls, the hanging lights, and Polaroid pictures of friends, both of the real and fake variety.
“Ready,” I announce, walking over to grab my backpack before shrugging it on. Once we’re outside, I walk right up to Sebastian’s motorcycle, bringing my left foot up to the peg and swinging my right leg over the seat. Sebastian hesitates before getting on and faces me. His hand lightly grips where my shoulder meets my neck, his thumb grazing my collarbone. His touch both soothes me and sets a fire inside me simultaneously, and my eyes close on their own accord.
“Your dad always been a piece of shit, or is this a new development?”
“New development.” I check the invisible watch on my wrist. “Only for about two years now,” I deadpan.
I watch as realization dawns on him. Finally, the pieces of the puzzle seem to click into place. Silence stretches between us. I’m feeling vulnerable and raw and embarrassed, and I want nothing more than to put some distance between this house and me.
“Can we please go?” I ask. No attitude. No sarcasm. A genuine plea for him to get me out of here. With a nod, he straddles the bike. I secure my helmet, then wrap my arms around him. Holding onto him, feeling his muscles tighten and release as he moves to pop the kickstand and balance the bike is quickly becoming my favorite part about being on the back of his motorcycle. As soon as we take off, I lay my head against his back. Tonight, I’ll allow myself comfort from Sebastian any way I can get it. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to not having feelings.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU doing, Seb?” Lathan asks, but it sounds more like an accusation than a question. After I came back with Evan in tow, I got her settled into the bunkhouse before coming back out to explain the situation.
“If you got something to say, say it.”
“You’re bringing in an outsider. If you want to dick some townie down, go for it. But this chick has been nothing but trouble, and now she’s in our home?”
“Relax, man,” Eros chimes in. “She’s not bad.”
“It doesn’t matter. We have rules.”
I don’t know why Lathan cares so damn much. “Are you really lecturing me about the rules? I fucking made the rules. I know what I’m doing.”
“Are you sure about that?” Tres asks, elbows resting on his knees, but there’s no anger in his tone.
I stand, dragging a hand through my hair. “Her pops is a junkie.”
“Yeah, and so are seventy-five percent of the people with Jessup,” Lathan argues. He’s got a point, and for some reason, I find it infuriating.
“She’s not safe.” As soon as we walked into that room, I spotted the straws. The random box of tin foil on his dresser. It was clear to me that he was using heroin. It was also clear that Evan didn’t have a fucking clue. Why would she? Normal people don’t know what to look for.
“How long?” I demanded as soon as Evan left the room. His head lolled behind him. “How long?” I asked again, my fists gripping the collar of his shirt, shaking him roughly.
“What?” he slurred, batting at my hands.
“How long have you been smoking that shit?”
“Don’t take it,” he begged, trying to pull himself up.
“I’m taking it or I’m taking your daughter.” I was taking Evan tonight either way, but I needed to see where his head was.
“Don’t take it, please,” he said again, his words garbled.
“Are you telling me that I’ve known this girl for all of ten seconds, and I care about her mor
e than her own father?”
His dazed eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and I knew I had my answer, not bothering to shake him down for the heroin I knew he’d have on him.
“She’s none of our business,” Lathan says, bringing me back to the conversation.
“So, we should turn our backs on her?” Eros asks. I knew he’d be agreeable when it came to her. “It’s just for the night?”
“Just for the night.”
Eros shrugs, shoving a handful of hot Cheetos into his mouth. “I’m in.”
“Definitely not,” Lathan says.
“You said she’s not safe. What’s she doing after this?”
“Not my problem,” I grind out. I got her out of there tonight, but I can’t do anything about when I’m not here. Lathan looks satisfied, and I’m tempted to renege just to piss him off. He’s not in charge. I don’t answer to him or anyone. Eros narrows his eyes skeptically, but I ignore it.
“Your mom was asking for you earlier,” Tres informs me. Great. That means she’s heard about Evan. News travels fast around here. I’m sure Valeen had something to say about their little encounter. I make a mental note to ask my grandmother about what she said to Evan.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I’m out.” I turn away from the fire for the bunkhouse. Walking up the three steps, I expect to find Evan crashed out, but she’s sitting on the couch with her chin resting on her knees, biting on her thumbnail as she stares off into space. She’s changed into some short shorts and a thin tank top. No bra. Good choice because it gets hot as fuck in here. Bad choice because she’s hot as fuck and sharing a trailer with four guys.
“You’re awake.”
“Can’t sleep,” she says, blinking glossy eyes. “They aren’t too fond of me.” She motions toward the door with her chin.
“Don’t take it personally.” I walk over, taking a seat on the cushion next to her. “Tell me about that night.” She knows which one I’m referring to. The night we met.
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