Lucas just laughs—the first time, I notice. He hasn’t laughed in a while.
“Well, then you will too,” he assures.
“You know I won’t.”
My tone is final. I don’t feel that need for speed that the Trents and other Caruthers do. I like walks. And bicycles. And being a passenger.
But he continues, “You could change your mind. When you were eight, you thought you were going to marry me too. Remember that?”
“Oh my God.” Every follicle of hair on my head electrifies, but I force a scowl. “Gross. Shut up.”
He laughs again, but I can feel the blush on my cheeks. When I was eight years old, I declared my devotion for him, but now I just feel embarrassed.
Even if butterflies are taking flight in my stomach.
Right now, I feel like I belong.
I only feel like that when he’s around.
Tilting his head back, he peers up at me. “How do you—”
But his voice is cut off as Kade bellows, “Quiiiinn!”
I round my eyes. He’s close. Is he coming to the kitchen?
“I’m turrrning off the lighhhts!” he taunts.
I suck in a breath, turning my head side to side. My skin crawls at the thought of the things that come out in the dark. Bats and spiders and clowns.
Lucas puts a knee on the table below again and pushes himself up, about to close the hatch.
But something on the little door catches on his shirt and he hisses. “Shit.”
He jumps down, the nail nearly tearing the T-shirt off his body.
Long, jet black lines fall down the back of his right shoulder. Like an upside-down V but curved like branches, arms splitting off from the main limb.
“Lucas, what is that?” I burst out.
I’ve never seen him with a tattoo. Did he have it this summer when we were all swimming? I would’ve noticed.
He slips out of the shirt and yanks it down off the nail, causing it to rip. He turns, his back to the wall. “It’snothing.”
He avoids my eyes, inspecting the shirt in his hands. Shooting back up, he closes the hatch, but he gives me a wink as he hides me away again. “You got this,” he whispers.
I smile.
“Quinn, come on!” Kade bellows.
But Dylan barks at him, “Just forfeit.”
“Well, why don’t you?”
“I’m bored,” Hawke mumbles.
A door creaks open downstairs and several pairs of feet hit the floor.
“Where is she?” Jared growls. “Now!”
