Indy’s cheeks reddened as she smiled. “Thanks. And ditto on the sibling vibes. You’re all…way older than me, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Ouch.” Austin laughed, clutching his chest in feigned wounding. “Fuck, did she just call us old?”
Indy’s smile grew as she shrugged.
I laughed, and she grinned back at me before digging into her meal.
I shook my head and took another appraising look at my loaded fork.
Fuck it. We all have to go sometime, right?
Chapter 9
Indy
Despite the fact that last night had gone so well, I was a bundle of nerves the next morning. I chalked the tension at dinner to typical family drama. I didn’t know all the details, but it sounded like Dylan had a dysfunctional relationship with his dad. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it anymore, and I respected his privacy.
For the most part, I’d liked everyone last night. It’d been the first time since I’d moved to California that I truly felt like I belonged. Moving in with Dad had been weird. Awkward. Tense. And that was when he’d been home. Most of the time he’d been AWOL, out partying with the guys. That I’d found a sense of home with Dylan and his family had filled me with a weird juxtaposition of emotions I hadn’t even really labeled just yet.
This morning, I had all of a cup of coffee and a piece of toast in my stomach, and I was seriously worried I’d see it again. Clutching my churning stomach with one hand, I looked sightlessly out the window on my right.
“I usually ride my bike into work. We can do that next time if you want. You’d just need to carry a backpack with all our shit.” His eyes never left the road as he spoke.
I cleared my throat. “I, uh, if you want. I’ve been on the back of a bike before so I’m not scared.”
“Really?” For the first time since we got into the car, Dylan turned toward me since we were idling at a red light. “I feel like there’s a story there. Boyfriend?”
My lip curled on its own volition. “No. Gross. My dad.”
“Ah. You know you haven’t talked too much about him…”
“Ditto,” I retorted, folding my arms over my chest. I don’t know if I’d ever be comfortable talking about my dad with him.
“Touché.” Dylan turned back to the windshield with a slight smile. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, ya know? Everyone was charmed by you last night. Just keep being you—that’s all anyone expects.”
“And the cameras?” I didn’t think it would be possible to be myself while someone filmed my every move and word. Someone—lots of someones—watching me.
So creepy.
He sighed. “They’re a pain in the ass. But we’re keeping them around for now. Technically, they’re keeping the lights on and getting us contacts with new clients. I, uh, kinda burned a bridge with one of our clients—our biggest client pre-television show. So we need the cameras. As fucking annoying as they are.”
I nodded, but the knot in my stomach tightened the closer we got to the shop.
“It’ll be fine.”
I couldn’t tell if Dylan was saying it to himself or me. But before I could ask, we pulled into the alley behind the paint shed.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I don’t know why I was so nervous. I’d met all the guys last night, and like Nathan had said, we had immediate sibling vibes.
It’d be fine. I was just making it weird and blowing everything out of proportion.
I gave him a weak smile after we’d exited the car. My eyes lingered for a second on our mural and I couldn’t deny the pride I felt when I saw it. I did that, and he made it awesome.
It calmed me somewhat as we walked toward the main front door. He pulled the door open for me, and I gave him a slight smile in thanks as I passed him.
“Seriously, Dylan?” Austin yelled. “Was that apology last night just lip service? What the fuck were you thinking?”
I jumped.
