“Well,” I said, glancing over at him, “I got you here, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” he replied, warmth glittering in his eyes. “You got me.”
Chapter Fifteen
If @PhillipMaan tells you I grabbed his Armani jacket to squash a spider with he is LYING. On a completely unrelated note, please recommend good dry cleaners. And bug spray or an electric bug zapper taser thing.
—Aspen Ray [@AspenRay]
After we pulled up to Club Z, Jake and Leon exited the car and went inside, but not before Jake told me it was probably best if I stayed in the car for this part, then exchanged a sly glance with Leon, who nodded in agreement.
It’d been ten minutes, and since then, I’d become increasingly suspicious about what felony those two were pulling inside. Looking for a distraction, I turned on the LUVR radio app again.
“Smooth Criminal” started playing.
I glanced down at my outfit. A tan-and-white vintage ringer tee I found at the Bargain Bin. Platform Mary Jane’s I bought at a discount because the left heel was scuffed. A gold sequin skirtI’d hand-sewn myself and had admittedly gotten the seams a bit jagged, but still looked good anyway. At least if I got arrested, I’d look cute.
I started typing a text to Amber.
Me:Hey, if I went to prison, would you still visit me?
Amber:Of course. And I’d bring you a nice care package. You know, one with some moisturizer, conditioner, and a hollowed-out baguette with a shiv in it.
Me:That’s so sweet. I’m touched.
Amber:So why am I potentially bringing you gift baskets in the state penitentiary?
Me:I think I’m about to be an accessory to a kidnapping.
Amber:Excuse me?????
I glanced out the window in time to see Jake and Leon.
Who had a struggling and complaining redheaded boy sandwiched between them that they were all but dragging as they jogged toward the car.
Oh no.
Me:Sorry, I’ve got to start the getaway car rn.
Amber:Lucy????
Amber:There’s a Taylor Swift song where she specifically warns against this. Please listen to her timeless wisdom.
Leon got in the back first, then Jake threw Aspen into the middle seat and climbed in after him.
All three of them were dusted in paper confetti.
“Sorry we took so long,” Leon apologized, shaking his head and sending a shower of glitter flying into my face. “There was a slight complication.”
“We handled it,” Jake said ominously, brushing off his broad shoulders.
“You’re getting confetti all over the seats,” I said, too stunned to say anything else.
Inside, the entire car flashed neon green and yellow. Silently, Jake reached over and pressed the Off button on Aspen’s strobe necklace.
The freckled boy currently sitting between Jake and Leon looked absolutely nothing like the child-actor-turned-popstar Aspen Ray I saw on album covers and talk shows. There, he looked like the picture-perfect Captain America–type who delivered promotional snippets with a winning smile.
Now, he had a magenta lipstick stain on his cheek, wore at least six glowstick bracelets, had a neon mesh shirt over an equally loud basketball jersey, jean shorts, and—for some mind-boggling reason—a designer sports jacket with sleeves that came down a bit too long, like he’d been too impatient to find one that actually fit.
