The second guy hauls his friends upright, murmuring apologies that sound more like self-preservation than remorse.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs to Bishop. “We were just?—”
“Now,” Bishop snaps.
They scramble together and leave.
Bishop doesn’t watch them though. His attention flicks to the edge of my towel where that first man’s fingers touched. And his mouth tightens, his fingers curling into his fists.
Then he’s gone, disappearing into the house as quickly as he appeared. If the people closest to me weren’t sliding looks in my direction, I might think I made the whole thing up.
Cruz appears beside me, condensation dripping from two plastic cups clutched in his hands. His gaze flicks to the wet smears of red on the concrete, then to my white-knuckled grip on my towel. One eyebrow arches.
“What did I miss?”
I take the drink, ice cubes clinking as my hand trembles slightly. The liquor burns down my throat, washing away the metallic taste of adrenaline. “Just some drunk idiot who couldn't handle his beer. Your brother kicked them out.”
Cruz’s gaze holds mine for a beat, like he knows there’s more to the story. When I don’t offer anything else, he dips his head in a couple of nods.
“Good. We’ve got rules for a reason.”
I arch a brow, feeling a grin tug up the corner of my mouth. “So weird because I could’ve sworn you used to say ‘rules were meant to be broken.’”
He tosses an arm over my shoulder with a laugh and pulls me into him for a side-hug. “C’mon, Bells, the night is still young. Let’s see what other shit we can get into.”
32
BELLAMY
My cup sitsempty beside me, condensation long dried into a ring on the concrete. Gage's shoulder presses against mine on the lounger tucked along the side of the pool, and I let my head tilt back, the world pleasantly blurred at its edges, sounds stretching like taffy when I close my eyes for too long.
The party pulses around us. A dirt bike's engine growls as it kicks up gravel near the pool's edge, the rider's face hidden behind a helmet smeared with someone's lipstick print. Each successful circuit earns whoops from a crowd swaying on unsteady feet, red cups raised like trophies. Across the yard, flames from the bonfire lick upward, casting flickering shadows over a girl straddling some guy's lap on a deck chair, her hair falling like a curtain around their faces. Ten feet away, another couple doesn't bother with privacy—his hands disappearing beneath her shirt while she tips her head back, mouth open in a silent gasp.
Cruz's laugh carries across the yard as he slings an arm around a blonde's shoulders, red cup tilted dangerously in his other hand. Across the pool, Bishop's shoulders cut a dark silhouette against the firelight, his jaw clenched as he scans thecrowd, pausing every few steps to check the tree line before resuming his circuit. No sign of Rafe since I’d left him in the dining room.
I hate that I notice any of it.
I turn my head to look at Gage. His eyes track the dirt bike with each loop, his fingers twitching against his thigh whenever the engine revs higher.
“You're dying to try it, aren't you?”
He looks at me, one corner of his mouth lifting into that crooked grin. My stomach does a little flip.
“Nah. I've done it a hundred times already.” He nudges my shoulder. “What about you? You want to try it?”
I snort, the sound catching me by surprise. “I'm good. In fact, I should probably head home.”
“Yeah, about that.” Gage's eyes flick to my empty cup, then back to my face. “You're not driving, Bell.” He nods toward the house, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. “Why don't you just crash in my room?”
The night air suddenly feels too thick against my skin, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “And where will you sleep?”
“In my bed. With you.” He stares at me for a moment, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “We’ll just sleep tonight.”
His words hang in the air between us. My stomach flips, then drops—like missing a step on a staircase. I press my lips together, swallow hard. My fingers twist the edge of my towel while something hot and restless crawls beneath my skin.
“Okay.”
His shoulders drop an inch, the tension in his jaw melting away as his eyes brighten. “Good.” He glances at his phone. “Bishop’s gonna start corralling people out soon, so let’s head inside now.” He stands up and extends his hand toward me.
