Because the thought of her looking at me with betrayal instead of love makes me want to set the world on fire.
“You’re staring,” Beck appears beside me, smirking. “Intensely.”
“Shut up.”
“You guys are so cute it makes my skin itch.”
I snort out a laugh, shaking my head at Marley’s brother. “You’re weird, but you know that?”
He grins, placing his hand on his chest. “Oh wow, thank you, that’s so nice of you to say, big man.” Beck studies me for a moment, his expression turning serious. “You okay, Nitro? You look as if you’re carrying something heavy.”
“I’m good,” I lie. “Just want tonight to be perfect.”
“It already is,” Beck says quietly. “She’s never been happier.Youdid that.”
His words should make me feel better. Instead, they make the guilt dig deeper because when Marley finds out I’ve been lying, all that happiness could disappear.
The party swells. Victoria cranks “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll,” and everyone dances. Sin spins his Old Lady with surprising grace, and Marley glows in the middle of it all.
She catches my eye and gestures for me to join her. I shake my head, but she pouts, and I can’t resist, so I make my way through the crowd, and she grabs my hands.
“I don’t dance,” I tell her.
“You do tonight, old man,” she counters.
For her, I’ll do anything.
We move together, slow and intimate despite the fast song—our own bubble in the chaos.
“Thank you,” she says over the music. “For making tonight perfect.”
“You deserve perfect,” I lean down to her ear. “You deserve everything, Small Town.”
You deserve honesty, my mind whispers.
You deserve better than what I’m giving you.
Goddammit!
She shivers, and the air between us shifts, heavier, charged. I want to kiss her, pull her somewhere private, and show her exactly how much she means to me.
But not yet.
Soon.
The song ends, and Ro takes the stage. “All right, you beautiful degenerates, it’s performance time.”
Marley’s eyes widen. “Performance?”
“You’ll see,” I murmur, guiding her to sit near the front.
Ro launches into “Barracuda,” her voice raw and powerful. The clubhouse loses its mind. Even Queenie, dressed in vintage seventies, is clapping along.
When Ro finishes, she grins breathlessly. “Now I’ve got a special guest. Get up here, Nitro!”
My stomach flips, but I stand, pulling my flute out of its case.
Marley’s jaw drops. “You’re performing?”
