“I know itcouldhelp us. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to get the answers we need.”
“Okay, fine. Good luck out there, mystery man.” Maeve pressed her mouth to my forehead, and darted away to catch up with Jane.
Arthur yanked the car away from the curb so hard my body jerked forward and I slammed my head into the dash. “Steady on!” I rubbed my head.
That’s going to leave a lump.
“Did you do something with Maeve?” Arthur growled, jerking the wheel around a corner. Rowan’s belt flew out of his hands, and he slid across the backseat.
“Careful.” I gripped the edge of the window. “I don’t think this car can handle a Formula 1 circuit.”
Arthur stared straight ahead, his teeth grinding together. “I asked a question, Corbin.”
I shrugged. “Sure, we both did. But we didn’t break the rule. At least, I didn’t. Maeve made the first move.”
“She made the first move with me, too,” Rowan said quietly.
“She’s been with you, too?” Arthur’s jaw dropped. His flabber wss ghasted.
“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” I shot back, feeling I should stick up for Rowan despite the fact he’d probably ruined my chances of success by coming along.
Why shouldn’t Maeve want him? Rowan was…well, he wasspecial.
“So how far has this gone?” Arthur growled.
I didn’t say anything. He could fill in the gaps.
“And Flynn, too?” Arthur asked.
“Flynn and I…did some stuff,” I said. “Not all the way, but we might have if Rowan hadn’t interrupted.”
“Sorry,” Rowan whispered.
“Don’t apologize. But yeah, I don’t know what Flynn might’ve done on his own.”
“Fuck,” Arthur growled. “Next you’ll tell me she’s been with Blake, too.”
I bloody hope not.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You know what the atmosphere in the house has been like since she arrived. It was bound to be this way – Maeve seems to be forming a connection with each of us,and if those dreams of hers are any indication, she doesn’t want to choose.”
“I like her,” Arthur said.
“We all do.”
“No.” Arthur seemed to be struggling with words. “Ilikeher. I want—fuck!”
A flame burst from the dashboard behind the steering wheel. Arthur yanked his hands off the wheel and the car lurched to the other side of the road.
Without Flynn here to put the fire out, it leapt high, licking the windshield glass and crawling up toward the canvas roof. A horrible chemically smell filled the car. Quickly, I sucked all the air from inside. Arthur’s face puckered as the air was driven from his lungs, his fingers on the wheel turning bone white. Without oxygen, the flame fizzed out, and I released the air. The three of us gasped for breath.
“That was close,” Rowan breathed.
My lungs burned. Arthur leaned over the wheel. I wanted to reach out to him, pat him on the back or something, but Arthur didn’t do that kind of shit. He never had a dad like mine, a dad who supported him and gave him books to read and told him he was doing a good job. He had no idea what to do with his emotions, which was why they flared up at inappropriate times and set fire to his precious car.
Arthur stomped on the brake so hard that I lurched forward, my forehead a hair’s breadth from slamming into the windshield before the seatbelt yanked me back. “Mate, are you?—”
“Get out,” Arthur mumbled, not looking up.
