“Having second thoughts? Sorry, love, you can’t really back out now.”
“No. No, it’s not that,” I stare at the black motorcycle, my tipsy brain trying to put the wires together and failing. “You know what, it’s nothing.”
Parker hits the elevator button, and my heart rate spikes.
I’m nervous. I have no idea what is waiting up there for me.
The doors ding open, and Parker hits the PH button before leaning us against the back of the elevator. I watch as the number crawls higher and higher, heart in my throat.
Oh god, I’m going to throw up.
Okay, I won’t, but these damn nerves feel like it. Like I have a swarm of bees in my chest fighting to find their way out. The buzzing is insane.
My ears pop as we pass the fiftieth floor, and it dulls my senses, bringing in a sliver of calm.
Finally, the elevator pings. A robotic voice announces, “Penthouse.”
Parker pushes off the wall, bringing me with him. He hasn’t let go of me this entire time. I appreciate it because I’m not sure I could stand on my own with the nerves and liquor trembling under my skin. I’d rather go into whatever is awaiting us as somewhat of a team. I steel my eyes ahead as the doors open.
My first thought is that this apartment is gorgeous.
It’s modern, with sleek white walls and gray marble tiles. The elevator opens into a small hallway with a closet, but a bunch of men’s shoes are strewn all over the floor in front of it–complete disregard for said closet. The opposite wall is lined with four neon art pieces, an X, O, triangle, and square. We step out of the elevator, and my heels clink on the tiles, alarmingly loud.
“Parker?” a female voice rings out.
“Hey, dude, thought you were crashing at your parent’s?” a male voice joins in.
We round the corner and enter the main living space. It has a completely open layout with floor-to-ceiling windows lining the entire right wall where the kitchen and dining table are. There looks to be a small outdoor space with a balcony that runs along the right side as well. There are two hallways, one to my left and another between the kitchen and living room. Straight ahead is a gorgeous black L-shaped couch facing what seems to be a ninety-eight-inch flatscreen mounted above an electric fireplace. The wall ahead is lined with various gaming memorabilia, but my eyes snag on the giant poster of The System.
Oh shit. He brought me to their apartment.
There is a giant golden-skinned guy sprawled out against the couch, snacking on a bag of popcorn. When his eyes meet mine, a handful of popcorn drops onto his chest. My own purse falls to the ground as I realize I’m staring at the guy whose car I crashed into. Jackson pushes himself up with lightning speed.
“The fuck, Parker?” His voice is a roar.
“Boys, it’s almost midnight, can we keep it down.” A petite blonde girl closes the fridge and turns around. Like a scene on repeat, when her stormy eyes meet mine, the bottle she is holding drops. “Crap!” She jumps back as it clangs loudly on the tiles.
Her gaze narrows as it zips to the blond man draped over my body.
“Parker. What in the ever-loving-god is going on here?” She grips her temples, closing her eyes. “I must be seeing things, because out of all the stupid things you have ever done, this is worse than all of them combined.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. Then, her controls snaps. Her eyes flash open and pure anger streams out. “Are you freaking kidding me?” she screeches.
I stare at her, something seeming familiar. This entire interaction has sobered me up a little, and I fight through the bubbly haze. The wires connect, and my mouth pops open.
“Sydney?”
She gives me a double take, recognition setting in.
“Stevie?”
A war of emotions seems to run through her, from shock to confusion to fury. She stalks over to me, and I back up farther into Parker. In my heels, she’s a solid six inches shorter than me, but it doesn’t make her any less intimidating in this moment.
“Were you following me?” She points a finger at me. “Were you at the juice bar to get closer to them? What are you? A reporter? A groupie? A stalker?”
Irritation growls in my gut, and I push her finger away.
“Are you serious? No. Why on earth would I even do that?”
The idea sounds beyond ridiculous.
Until I remember who these guys are, and the frustration fizzles out. I’m standing here like some foreign code in their system. They don’t know whether I’m here to ruin them or not. Of course they’d be distrustful.
“One of you better start explaining right now, or I’m calling security and our lawyers.” Sydney’s cold stare pierces through me.
Panic begins to take over. I’ve made a huge mistake. My heart rate is increasing, anxiety working its way through my body. I start fidgeting then, my fingers curling in on themselves, opening, and then curling again. I repeat the motion over and over.
“Look,” Parker holds his free hand out, “I didn’t fuck up, not really.”
“Doesn’t look that way, my guy.” Jackson gets off the couch and comes to tower behind Sydney.
“Parker, I am actually going to murder you.” Sydney props her hand on her hip, “In fact, I’m going to have to murder both of you. I can’t even begin to fathom the scenario that would warrant you doing something so risky.”
I hear something rattle. My eyes dart left, down the hallway. One of the doors opens and out steps a bedraggled guy in a hoodie, messy brown hair peeking out. Everyone is still fighting.
“Seriously, you guys. I just got off a four-hour stream. Unless someone is dying, can you shut the fuck up?” His voice is laced with exhaustion.
The new guy stands tall, lifting his head. Green eyes meet mine, and the world stops.
It just.
Stops.
I was right.
Black dots fill my vision as my breathing quickens, body shaking. The sounds of everyone arguing begin to dull.
I watch as Aleks’ lips move, forming one word.
My name.
And then, I pass out.
TWENTY-FOUR
* * *
ALEKS
I need to start planning Parker’s funeral since he is a dead man.
Actually, I don’t even have to worry about murdering him since it looks like Sydney will be doing it for me. She won’t even make it a quick death. That girl looks like she is going to strap him to a chair and tear his toenails off one by one. Maybe she’ll castrate him too, play ping-pong with his balls.
Instinct has me rushing forward to grab Stevie as she crumples in Parker’s arms.
The last sixty seconds play on loop in my mind as a stare down at her.