Drown in You, page 9
At the booth, the redhead who’d been in Damien’s lap now has her hand on his chest and some other guy’s. Probably a boyfriend or a jealous ex. Damien is ready to rip the guy’s head off for her. He’ll do just about anything for a night with new puck-bunny pussy.
Sienna would never grind against some other guy while her boyfriend was ten feet away.
I shake my head. “There are no other options. There’s only you.”
For a second, she preens at the praise before she buries the joy back down. She loves my flattery, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me.”
If it was Ten saying that to her, she’d love it.
Damien and the jealous boyfriend stomp toward the exit, taking the fight outside. The redhead protests at their backs, even as she grins, loving that two guys are about to fight over her.
I grit my teeth. I don’t want to leave Sienna at the bar alone, but right now, Damien needs me more than she does.
“Don’t drink anything anyone gives you,” I warn her before I follow the group outside.
In the cold, the redhead shivers in her tiny skirt and top while the guys swing fists and land punches with sickening thuds on each other’s arms and jaws. Damien’s buzzed enough to be pissed but not stumbling drunk like his opponent. He doesn’t need my help, and I’m not jumping in to catch an elbow to the gut or a fist to the face if I don’t have to. Hockey fights are hard enough on the body—I don’t need to get into fights off the ice too.
Once the dude is laid out, the redhead gloms onto Damien’s arm. He shakes her off. Already lost interest.
I clap him on the shoulder as he heads back for the door. “You good?”
“Great. Knuckles barely even hurt.”
A loud burst of laughter greets us when we head back in, carrying over the thumping music. I’d recognize that high, musical laugh anywhere.
Who the fuck is making her laugh like that?
Chapter 11
Sienna
Knox is practically drooling over the sluttiest dress Violet and Juliet plucked from my closet.
Tonight, Juliet is a goth princess in a short black skirt and top that barely qualifies as a shirt, stopping just below her boobs. Tights with a rose pattern cling to her legs and all she needs to complete the look is an onyx crown. Violet has traded in her long, flowing skirt for a sinful red dress that hugs her every curve. Wes-approved, I’m sure.
Though I initially protested because I didn’t want to find out how Luke would react to seeing me in this dress, I’m glad they pushed me to wear it. As soon as Luke left the bar with Damien, Knox beelined for me.
“Sienna waits for you!” He beams, leaning against the bar next to me, so close his heavy cologne fills my nose. His boyish face is already flushed. From alcohol or dancing his ass off, I’m not sure. Could be both. “Get it? Sienna waits for you? Like Vienna by—”
I giggle. “I get it.”
I take another gulp from my water. I shouldn’t be touched that Luke ordered me a glass of water after noticing how much I sweat my ass off on the dance floor.
I’m painfully aware of his absence and that he could return at any moment while Knox regales me with a hilarious story from their practice yesterday. I clutch at my stomach, the laughter making my abs ache until someone yanks my arm.
“Come on.” Luke wrenches me away from Knox, jaw hard and gray eyes blazing. “We’re going home.”
“Don’t be like that, Valentine,” Knox protests.
“Let me go!” I try to pull out of his grasp, but it’s like fighting stone.
As he tugs me toward the door, I catch my friends’ eyes. Violet waves and Juliet mouths for me to text her.
I’ll definitely be texting her to come rescue me from wherever Luke plans on locking me up.
Once we’re outside, the freezing January air pierces me to the bone. I finally manage to wrench out of his iron grip and clutch my arms to my shivering body. “What the hell, Luke?”
He rounds on me. “Why do you hook up with guys you barely know?”
His sharp tone momentarily withers me. But who the hell is he to judge who I hook up with? Not that I was even hooking up with Knox. We were literally just having a conversation. I don’t owe Luke Valentine any sort of explanation.
I narrow my eyes at him even as my teeth chatter. “Why do you hook up with girls you barely know?”
He’s a big fucking hypocrite considering he hooked up with me the night we met.
“I don’t.” He steps closer, and I’m forced to lift my chin to meet his gaze. But I’m not backing down. Not this time. I’m done letting my stepbrother intimidate me.
When Luke followed me up to my hotel room, I assumed one-night stands were a regular experience for him. It never occurred to me that we were both behaving out of character.
“I’ve never done anything like that either,” I admit. “I at least know their names first.”
“So why did you?”
Maybe I should end this conversation here. We should be pretending that night never happened, not rehashing it right in front of a bar where any drunk college student stumbling past could overhear.
But his gaze is heavy, simmering with a quiet need to hear the answer.
“I think . . . I think I was willing to that night because I didn’t want to be at my father’s wedding. And I was lonely and lost and I don’t know.” I’m blabbering now, teeth chattering as I study the few inches of space between our feet. Between his expensive boots and my old heels with exposed toes about to fall off.
The stress of everything with Marcus and the move and the new family, the sting of rejection when Ten kept ignoring me, it was all too much for one night. I needed an escape, and Luke gave me that.
“For some reason, I felt like I could trust you. And when it was happening . . . it was like I’d known you way longer than ten minutes.”
He put that disposable camera in front of me and reminded me of the best friend I had. Of the friend I was missing. Even though I’ve only known Luke for about a week, something about him is weirdly familiar. Like we knew each other in a past life and our souls still remember the connection we shared.
But in this life, we’re step-siblings and nothing can happen between us.
His finger hooks under my chin, tilting it up to force our eyes to meet. “It lasted a lot longer than ten minutes.”
God. As if I could forget. No matter how much I wish I could.
“Come on.” He leads the way to his car, and I’m grateful when he doesn’t grab me by the arm or the hand. “I’m taking you home.”
I could run back inside. Refuse to leave with him. Unless he wants to pick me up and drag me kicking and screaming, he can’t force me. But I’m freezing, my limbs are drained, and my warm bed sounds perfect right now.
As we head for his car, I spot a red Cadillac parked along the sidewalk a few vehicles down.
My heart stops. The same car Marcus drives.
But no, he can’t be here. He wouldn’t follow me all the way to Diamond. His goal was to drive me out of Wakefield—he accomplished that. Besides, he wouldn’t have any way of finding me. I wiped my existence from the internet, and there’s no way Juliet’s parents would’ve told him where we are.
I take a few deep breaths to try to slow my racing heart.
“What?” Luke frowns at me from where he stands by his car, door propped open for me.
I shake my head and force a smile. “Nothing.”
In the car, I pull out my phone. No texts from Ten. I hate the way my heart still sinks with disappointment every time. I was hoping that photo in my dress would get him to respond. He’d at least tell me to have fun or be safe. But he’s still ignoring me.
A hint of frustration joins the disappointment. I didn’t do anything wrong, and there hasn’t been a time I’ve ever needed him more. Yet this is when he chooses to abandon me, even after he knows how much my dad’s abandonment screwed me up. He’s always been my rock, but right now, he’s being a shitty friend. But if I call him out on it, I’m terrified I’ll only drive him further away.
Luke cranks on the heat, and I bite back my gratitude. He’s blasting the heat because he’s cold too—it’s not just for me. He nods down to my phone. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” But he keeps staring at me. We’re not leaving until I give him an answer. “I just haven’t heard from a friend in a while.”
“What friend?”
I brace myself for his jealous streak. Not that he has any right to claim any sort of possession over me. I’ve known Ten way longer than Luke. “His name is Ten.”
Luke flicks the turn signal and pulls away from the sidewalk. “Sounds like a dick.”
I snort. “You don’t even know him.”
“Tell me about him.”
That’s not at all the response I expected. I would’ve assumed Luke would demand that I hand my phone over so he could delete and block Ten’s number. “He’s really funny.” I smile just thinking of all our corny inside jokes. “He always knows the right thing to say. He wears a mask, so I don’t know what he looks like, but I know him better than anybody. He’s basically been my rock since I was fifteen. I tell him almost everything. Even more than I’ve told Juliet.”
“Almost everything?” Luke lifts a brow. “What haven’t you told him?”
“If I didn’t tell him, I’m not telling you.”
In the darkness, with the glow of the streetlights passing, Luke is impossibly handsome. Still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. “If he was in front of you right now, what would you say to him?”
God, there’s so much I want to say to Ten. I want to smack him and scream at him for making me worry, for driving me crazy, for making me doubt myself the way my father did. But I also want to throw my arms around him and thank him. Thank him for being there for me every time I needed someone these past few years, thank him for reassuring me that my dad leaving me behind wasn’t my fault, thank him for always making me feel loved and worthy.
“I’d tell him he’s an asshole for ghosting me,” I say. “And that I missed him and he better never do it again. And he owes me, like, ten dozen flowers.”
“Would that make you feel better?”
“Worth a shot.” I need to change the subject. Talking about Ten is bringing the familiar prickle of tears to my eyes. “So have you talked to your mom lately?”
“Yeah, she texts and calls every day.”
It’s actually kind of sweet that Luke talks to his mom every day. I grit my teeth. It’s annoying that anything he does is sweet. “So does my dad. My mom calls me every day too, but she’s not living it up in Europe.”
Luke averts his gaze from the road to give me a small smile. “I’m glad your dad’s trying to fix things with you.”
His sincerity throws me. He cares more than I’d expect for someone who’s still little more than a stranger. “Yeah. Me too.”
“You deserve a dad who does more than send you cards and call you on your birthday.”
My spine stiffens. “How do you know about that?”
Luke hesitates for a second, concentrating on the road in front of him. “He mentioned it. Pretty sure that’s his biggest regret—missing so much of your life. And it should be.”
For a twisted stepbrother entirely too possessive of his stepsister, he’s also thoughtful and sweet. Those may be the worst things about him.
“My biggest regret is being the reason he left. One of my biggest regrets, anyway.”
Luke’s jaw clenches. “He didn’t leave because of you.”
“Why else would he have basically disappeared from my life? I was too loud, talked too much, couldn’t sit still. He and my mom never fought about anything. Then they got a divorce, and he was never around. So I pretty much know he left because of me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
For the first time since sliding into Luke’s car, I glare at him. His attention is fixed on the road, leaving me to admire his profile. The hard, square jawline, the full lips, the dark blond hair curling in wisps around his ears. For a moment, I remind myself that I can’t be attracted to my stepbrother. “How is it ridiculous?”
Luke’s brows bend into a deeper frown and he slows when we approach the intersection near campus. “You weren’t too wild or too loud or too much. That’s called being a kid. And kids don’t cause divorces—adults do. Your dad taking off and not being around for ten years isn’t your fault. That’s on him.”
His words warm a cold part of my chest that even the heat blasting from the vents can’t reach. They’re oddly reminiscent of what Ten said to me when I confided in him about the divorce and the lack of a relationship with my dad. It’s not your fault. If he’s not around, then he doesn’t deserve you.
Since my parents’ split, I’ve lived with the gnawing guilt that I’m the one who drove him away. That if not for me, Mom wouldn’t be left crying on the couch most nights. She wouldn’t be hopping from man to man, trying to find the love she once shared with my father.
Luke wasn’t there. Ten wasn’t there. Neither of them knows the whole situation. But every part of me longs to believe them.
When Luke coasts through the intersection, passing the road that leads to Diamond University, I elbow him. “Hey! You missed our turn.”
“We’re not going back to Diamond,” he says simply.
My heart skips. “Where are we going?”
“I told you. I’m taking you home.”
“What? Back to Wakefield?” My voice goes up an octave. Is this his way of punishing me for daring to flirt with Knox? He’s going to threaten to send me packing? Back home to face Marcus and his henchmen?
“No, back to our home, Sienna.” His molten gaze melts me. “We need to check on the house and Bud.”
“Bud? Who’s Bud?”
“My dog. Our dog,” he corrects with a smile.
My mind is whirling. “You have a dog? Who the hell has been feeding him and taking him outside this whole time?”
Luke shrugs. “Neighbors. The housekeeper. He’s had plenty of care and attention, trust me.”
“So why do we need to go back?”
“Because I told the housekeeper we’d be there. Give her a day off.”
My nails bite into my palms. “Okay. Why do I have to be there? Can’t you just go alone?”
Spending a night with Luke in his house without our parents is the worst possible idea. There will be no one around to distract us. No classes or practices to rush off to. No friends or roommates to barge in.
Just me and my stepbrother. Alone.
His wolfish grin brings a lump to my throat. “Because we’re family now, sis.”
Chapter 12
Luke
Sienna gapes as I lead her into the house until Bud barks and runs up to us, tail wagging so hard his whole ass shakes.
“You are so cute!” She drops to her knees, giggling while Bud licks her face as she pets him.
He already loves her. We both do. “Ma has a bedroom ready for you.”
“It’s cute the way you say Ma.” The words are out of her mouth before she can think better of them.
“Yeah?” I smirk down at her.
“It’s just that little hint of Southern accent that sneaks in. Don’t get a big head about it.” She finally straightens, even as she continues scratching between Bud's ears. “Your house is huge.”
“Ma’s a judge. She makes good money.”
Not to mention my pops left her a million-dollar life insurance policy. She cried when she found out. Not from relief or happiness but because no amount of money could replace him. Nothing ever would.
Sienna’s attention drifts to a framed photo hung on the wall among Ma’s extensive collection. A wall devoted to memories. To ghosts. Her finger trails over the frame. “Is this your dad?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. A photo of Pop and nine-year-old me covered in mud we’d been flinging at each other. Ma snapped the photo while we were mid-laugh. Still one of my favorites of us. “That’s him.”
“You look just like him.” She smiles.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “You want to see your room?”
Sienna gets the hint and drops the subject, nodding. I lead the way upstairs, Bud’s paws clicking behind us.
When I open the door to her new room, her face lights up. There’s nothing in the world better than seeing her happy. “Wow. Your mom really outdid herself.”
She skims the white bedspread made of the softest Egyptian cotton and the matching silk pillowcase before hugging the blackout curtains like they’re her long-lost best friend. Now I’m jealous of fucking curtains. She swings open the double doors that lead to a walk-in closet before yanking on the bathroom door and gasping. “I can have my own bathroom?”
“Your own bathroom, your own room, your own TV.” I wink at her. “But we’re sharing a bed.”
She whirls on me, scowling even as her eyes are wide. “Luke, no—”
“Come join me in the hot tub.”
Her lips purse and she folds her arms. “It’s thirty degrees out.”
I shrug. “Best time to use the hot tub.”
She shakes her head, grabbing the door and moving to shut it in my face. “No. I’m going to bed—”
I slap a palm against the door, bracing it open with ease. “I’ll keep my hands to myself. Promise. At least until you beg for them all over you.”
“I won’t.” Her throat bobs as she scrambles to come up with another excuse to avoid me. “I don’t even have a swimsuit.”
I smirk. “You have a bra and panties.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not stripping down to my underwear in a hot tub with you.”
“What’s the difference between that and a bikini?” She doesn’t have a quick response to that. “Exactly. So come on—get your ass downstairs. The hot water will help you relax before bed.”
