Savage Little Lies: Chapter 34

Sloane

Dorian played every home game in that dress after that. Well, not that dress. He mixed it up on occasion.

At least, from what I heard.

With Bru not playing anymore, I didn’t make it to every game, but I certainly heard about his antics. Especially when I also heard his coaches still weren’t too keen on what he was doing out there on the field. Word around the academy was, there was talk of trying to bench Dorian for the rest of the season until he stopped with his impromptu fashion shows, and I’d gotten more than enough flack for that around the halls. Dorian Prinze was this school’s golden boy out on the field.

He continued to wear the dresses, though, and he never asked me out again, but that didn’t stop his letters. He left them strictly in my locker now.

I’d even caught him putting one in.

I’d assumed he always had his flunkies doing it, and maybe in the beginning, he had.

The one he left today, though, he slid right into my locker and stayed there when he spotted me.

“Number twenty,” he said, absolutely relentless. His grin high, he nodded toward the locker. “Aren’t you curious?”

I was, but I played that off. Instead of opening my locker, I stared at him. “Why should I be? They’re all the same.”

They were all him, each and every one. Some days they weren’t as deep as number sixteen or number twelve, but they were still him. Like he was trying to peel open his heart and let me in for a little peek. Honestly, I was starting to hate them as much as anticipate them. I was starting to feel a lot of pressure with each one I found and not to give in for a date.

I thought, one day, he may want me to reciprocate. He’d want me to open myself up, and I wasn’t ready for that. Things were difficult after he left, the scars.

Dorian’s grin slipped a little in my direction, and he averted his eyes as I opened my locker. The note fell out like it always did, and I opened it up.

It was blank.

I even turned it around to see if I’d missed something.

“You know, you’re acting like you don’t care, little fighter…” He edged closer, his heat close. His lips parted. “But it sure looks like you do.”

I hated that I did.

It didn’t matter.

It couldn’t matter.

Why does he keep doing this?

I felt ripped open right in front of him, peeled apart as he rested an arm against the locker.

Blond eyebrows narrowed hard. “You want more, you’re gonna have to give me something.” His brow lifted slow. “I’m serious about all the things I said. I am, and I’m willing to work for them, but…”

Our gazes clashed, his frown hard.

“I need something from you.” He scanned my eyes. “Just… something.”

He was so close now, and he didn’t have to explain. He needed something from me.

He needed something back.

He needed to know all this wasn’t pointless, and I was well aware I wasn’t giving him anything.

I didn’t want to.

Pride was something else. Hurt was something else. This boy had hurt me, multiple times, and I couldn’t easily forget.

I wished I could.

With no response from me, Dorian’s head lowered, that silky blond brushing his brow. I wanted to touch it so bad.

I wanted to touch him.

I resisted the devil in all his dark temptation. Dorian may be willing to change, but that part of him would always be there. He’d always have the capability of massive destruction, even if he had changed.

He could always destroy me whether he wanted to or not.

Reaching up, he played with my hair, and I let him for a second because I was stupid.

The hair slipped from his fingers.

“Let me know when you have that,” he said, avoiding my gaze, and it took everything in me to let him walk away.

But in the end, I did.

*

Later that night, my brother surprised me when he asked if we could go see a movie. Typically, he played video games or brushed up on homework, and since I’d finished my project with Ares, I stayed in my studio most nights. It kept my thoughts about everything else surrounding Dorian Prinze away.

Needless to say, I said yes. Getting out of the house would definitely help. My brother decided to drive us in his Audi, and I noticed his gaze more than once in my direction while we drove. More specifically, his gaze lingered on my Windsor Prep hoodie and leggings. He frowned. “I wished you would have put something else on, or at least tried not to look like you just got off the couch.”

I had just gotten off the couch. I’d been eating dinner when he asked to go to the movie.

I flipped him off. He’d said something similar before we left. Actually, he’d made a big deal about it, saying I looked lazy, but he didn’t appear much different. He wore jeans and a polo.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” I said, hugging my arms, and he chuckled.

“Clearly,” he returned, and it took all I had not to knock his head forward. I did get him in the side, though, and it was nice that we were getting back to normal. I liked my brother not being sick anymore.

Gratefully, Bruno laid off while we continued to drive for the most part. I still got his eye, but when we traveled in the opposite direction of the movie theater, I sat up. Maywood Heights only had a couple movie theaters, and they weren’t this way. My brow lifted. “Where are we going?”

“The movies.”

“Newsflash. We’re nowhere near where we need to be going for the movies.” I angled around. Actually, we seemed to be heading in the direction of the academy.

Which was why I wasn’t surprised when that was exactly where we turned up.

We passed under the academy’s crest, then next thing I knew, my brother was pulling into the football stadium’s parking lot. My lips parted. “Bruno Sloane, why are we here?”

He didn’t answer me.

The first thing I noticed was the lights were on at the stadium. So bright they flooded the parking lot, which didn’t make sense. The school never had them on unless there was a game going. The second thing that stole my attention was that, yes, this was our destination. Bru parked his car, getting out. He came around, opening my door, and I stayed in my seat.

“Why are we here?” I asked, but only got my brother’s grin. I started to ask him about that, but he didn’t give me a chance.

My brother shot off running, like legit running. Unstrapping, I got out. His car chirped after I closed the door, my brother running backward.

“Come on, sis. You shouldn’t be slower than the sick kid!” he called, reminding me of Ares with the statement.

I really did need to work on my cardio and was huffing by the time I did catch up to him. My brother had disappeared in the direction of the players’ locker rooms, but I caught him when I got around the corner.

He wasn’t alone. In fact, I counted one, two, three boys, my brother the shortest.

But everyone was shorter than a Legacy boy. Thatcher Reed and Wells Ambrose surrounded my brother. They were chatting with him, laughing, but when the group spotted me, they eased around.

Both Thatcher’s and Wells’s eyebrows hiked high, but it was Thatcher to cover his face.

He pushed his hand into his dark hair, his dangly earrings twinkling. “Bro, why the fuck does she look like trash?”

I twitched, and Wells groaned. He laced his fingers atop his head. “Right?” He jutted his chin at my brother. “That’s the best you could do?”

“I mean, it’s not like I had a choice.” Bru shook his head. “She’s stubborn as hell.”

“Where the fuck did you tell her she was going?” Thatcher asked this question, and at this point, I was beyond confused.

Bru lifted a shoulder. “The movies.”

“No fucking wonder.” Thatcher’s sigh was heavy. “I mean, give her a fucking reason to put something decent on. Girls I take to the movies don’t dress up for shit.”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s saying much considering the girls who want his dumb ass.” Wells chided, nudging my brother. Bru put a fist to his mouth, trying not to laugh, but Wells was doing enough laughter for them both.

The platinum blond was roaring at this point, which shot Thatcher’s snarl in his direction.

I stalked over. “What the fuck is going on?”

All the boys’ gazes dashed in my direction. I stated the question as a blanketed one, but it was mostly directed toward my brother. I pointed toward Legacy. “What are you doing with these jerks?”

They had been jerks to me, and though Bow had given me some insight into why they were still hanging back, that didn’t deny what they’d done. Nor how they’d treated my brother. I mean, they hadn’t even gone to see him in the hospital.

Wells’s lips pinched together as if to say “ouch” after what I said, but he shouldn’t be surprised by this response. Facts were facts.

Bru cuffed his arms. “They asked me for help.”

“With what?”

“Setting you up,” Thatcher said from behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is a setup.”

I eyed my brother, needing further explanation here, and at this point, Bru guided me away. We didn’t go far but enough for us to have some semblance of a private conversation.

“What’s going on?” I gritted. The other boys lingered over by the locker rooms. “What are they talking about?”

“Just what they said.” Bru gestured to the stadium around us.  “This is a setup, and the only way to get you to come around.”

“Come around?”

Bru said nothing, Thatcher and Wells rocking on their high-tops behind us. I didn’t see Ares or Dorian around, but Thatcher and Wells didn’t do anything unless one of them asked them to do so.

They didn’t do anything unless Dorian asked them.

The dark prince was their leader, point-blank, and just today, he’d been pretty open about needing something from me.

I guess he got tired of waiting.

“Dorian,” I growled, and Bru raised his hands.

“Now, before you freak—”

“Oh, I’m already freaking out.” I shoved my hands in my hoodie. “This is a setup, and Dorian put you guys up to this.”

Bru popped a shoulder, and I started laughing at this point but found nothing funny. This was so him, and completely the opposite of what he was trying to prove to me. He said he was going to let go of control.

I had my hands laced on my head, but Bru tugged them down.

“Look. Anyone can see that you want to say yes to him,” Bru stated, his eyes serious. “That you do, but you’re so damn stubborn.”

I didn’t want him to be right. I gazed away. “He’s an asshole, Bruno. He’s been an asshole, and once again, you’re out here having his back and not mine.”

“I do have your back, sis.” He frowned. “That’s why I’m doing this.”

I couldn’t even look at him, but he angled in front of me.

“You do want to say yes.” He nodded. “I know you do because I know you.”

I wished he didn’t, and like hell, I wanted to protest, but I couldn’t.

I wanted him to be wrong. I wanted to say I didn’t think about Dorian, or I didn’t care. I wanted to say that I threw out every letter he gave me.

But I hadn’t.

I had each and every one, and I probably wouldn’t ever throw them away.

Bru’s smile was slow. “I’m also saving you from yourself. Fuck, I’m saving you from the school,” he said, chuckling. “If the coaches keep him from playing because of that dress shit, the pitchforks will definitely come out for your stubborn ass.”

He rocked my shoulders, and I shoved at him, trying to not smile, but I couldn’t help it.

His head tilted. “I’m not happy about how you said he treated you, and you were totally right for being as unmovable as you were on the issue.”

He was right about that.

“But I also know how you feel about him.” He rubbed my arm. “I know what I’ve seen, and as far as I’m concerned, that trumps any way I feel about the situation. If I had it my way, I’d deck his ass, which would probably not be a good idea because dude’s like twice my size.”

That hadn’t stopped him from hitting Ares and standing up for me.

He probably only hadn’t done anything because he knew how I felt about him fighting.

“You and your happiness come first, Sloane,” he said, then faced back toward Wells and Thatcher. “It does, and regardless of how I feel about it.”

But going along with Thatcher and Wells on this, really? I waved my hand toward them. “But those guys weren’t here for you. They didn’t even come to see you when you were at the hospital.”

“And that’s on us.”

Thatcher came over after he spoke, Wells behind him. I had a feeling they’d been listening the whole time, and I hadn’t been trying to keep quiet about anything. Thatcher stopped in front of me. “We talked to Bru at the game. Told him we were idiots. We shouldn’t have given you the cold shoulder like that.”

“We came at you fucked up.” Wells dropped an arm over Thatcher’s shoulder. Wells’s lips pulled tight. “We should have given you the benefit of the doubt. Wolf did that, and we should have had enough brain cells to do it too.”

“We were assholes.” Thatcher opened his hands. “Point-blank. We went about shit with a mob mentality, and that wasn’t cool.” He gestured toward Bru. “Not to mention ghosting you, bro, over that shit. Was so messed up. We messed up.”

Bru acknowledged that, nodding. “I get standing up for people you care about. If it was my sis, I would have done the same thing, which is why I’ve forgiven them,” he said, facing me. “I did mostly for you. This thing with you and Dorian anyone can see. I wanted to help. Like I said, I want you to be happy.”

I studied my kid brother, really looked at him. These boys had more than treated him like shit too, but here he was teaming up with them. He’d done that for me.

My brother definitely hadn’t been in my corner in the past. More than once, he favored his interests over mine but that wasn’t the case now.

“And we owe you an apology too.” Thatcher waved a hand between him and Wells. “Wolf tried to talk some common sense into us, but we didn’t listen.”

“Yeah, which is why we did after we finally stopped being assholes.” Wells frowned. “Ares said you were pissed at D, and that we should all give you breathing room. Especially after what we did and shutting you out. He said talking to you should be on your terms.”

I’d been told this, him of all people looking out for me. “Where is he? Ares?”

Thatcher grinned. “He’s actually at the school presenting the project you both worked on. I guess some big-time art school reps wanted to see it in person after getting his applications.” Thatcher nodded. “Seems you guys worked really well together.”

Well, congrats to beast boy. He really did deserve it. He worked hard. We both did.

How crazy how things had changed. I really did wish him well and even more after what Thatcher said. I had a feeling he’d been fighting for me, and though I still didn’t know why, I wasn’t going to slap that in the face. I supposed kindness can be found in the most unusual places.

Even enemies.

The dark prince and I had been that too, but for some reason, I found it easier to look over things like what Ares had done. I didn’t know why.

Yeah, you do.

I stood with those thoughts as Thatcher eased forward.

“So are you ready to talk to us?” Thatcher stated, almost sounding hopeful. He studied Wells. “We were hard on you. Too hard, and that goes double for me.”

He was obviously referring to that nightmare dinner I hadn’t even gotten to have.

And why did my chest squeeze after what he said?

It was like he cared and truly did feel remorse. Hell, it was like I cared to even get the remorse in the first place.

Because you do.

I recalled Thatcher’s gifts after what I’d done for his sister at that football game. How he and Wells had come to sit with me nearly every day after that. I remembered their jokes and liking being around them even if I didn’t want to put that off. I liked being in their airspace, as if they were little brothers like my own. I liked them.

Wells smiled a little. “What do you say, Pretty Pretty Princess?” he asked, and why did my heart dance at that stupid fucking nickname. His smile stretched. “At least forgive me if you’re not going to forgive this big asshole.”

“Fuck you and your weak ass.” Thatcher brought Wells under his arm, mussing up the boy’s platinum-blond hair. This had both Bru and me roaring, and I’d missed that too. The two boys had often done that at lunch.

“She’s laughing, bro,” Wells said under Thatcher’s arm. He shoved him off him. “I think she’s forgiven us.”

“Have you? I mean, uh…” Thatcher passed that off. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you? And make it quick. D’s going to annihilate our asses for taking so long with you anyway.”

I wondered what “D” had in store. I cuffed my arms, sighing. “I mean, I might consider it if…” The two boys let go of each other, and I grinned. “I get Jax’s Burgers every day until holiday break.”

“Oh, easy fucking mode.” Wells pounded Thatcher’s fist. Wells put a hand on his chest. “Jax is my dad, and I will personally make sure you get them.”

The two Legacy boys locked hands, snapping after. I pointed at them. “But if you two fuck with me again, I’m going to annihilate your asses.”

“Oh, wouldn’t dream of it, princess. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Thatcher raised his hands before rubbing them. “So you ready for this, then? We’ve been told to get you set.”

His thumb shot back toward the field, and though I had no idea what that meant, I shrugged. “Might as well.”

Whatever was going on obviously would be occurring on the field. I started to eye that way, but the boys cut me off.

“No peeking.” Thatcher shot a finger at me, and almost seemed giddy of all things. Wells rubbed his shoulders before Thatcher took his big fist to the door leading to the locker rooms.

“She’s ready,” he said, and I had no idea who he was talking to, but then, the door opened and a little rabbit came out. Well, not an actual rabbit but his sister.

“Took you guys long enough,” she said, wearing another one of her bright brooches. She had it pinned to her dress top and was all grins.

That was until she saw me.

Her expression legit flatlined, and next thing I knew, she approached me.

“Oh, Sloane,” she tsked, shaking her head. She made eye contact with Bru. “Where did you tell her she was going?”

“Yeah, we definitely got on her bro for this shit already.” Thatcher slapped my brother’s chest. “Girl looks like she rolled out of a dumpster.” I shot a look in his direction, and he immediately raised his hand. His tongue slid out with his grin. “I mean, a pretty dumpster.”

“Fuck you,” I gritted, but at this point, Bow was taking me away. I shot a finger at him. “I’m coming for you.”

His grin stretched. “That a promise, princess?”

Wells dropped an elbow on his shoulder. “Dorian would kill your ass.”

Thatcher appraised me. “Shit, it’d be fucking worth it.”

Wells gave him an expression as if he’d be right for the statement. The fucker even nodded in agreement.

The two were a pair of horny fucks, and I noticed my brother shoved them as the door closed. I heard him say, “Really, man?” after the door cut me off from them, but I could only shake my head. I was currently being led to the visitor’s locker room.

Bow hooked her arm in mine. “Good thing for you I was prepared,” she said, patting my arm. We rounded a corner, and she’d changed the locker room into a fashion studio.

That was really the only way I could describe it. Bow had several outfits hanging, the dresses hooked on the locker doors, and she even had a makeup station on the benches.

Tubes upon tubes of lipstick lined the bench, and her makeup bag was open with more of the same. She had a ton of heels too, and I eyed her.

“Bru helped us with the sizing,” she said, completely giddy. She pumped her fists. “Dorian thought you might need some help, so I’m helping.”

I didn’t know if I should be appalled or flattered. I mean, it was kind of thoughtful he’d gotten all this set up for me, but clearly, he thought I was hopeless. I unhooked a dress. “He bought all this stuff?”

Leaning against the lockers, she passed that off with a shrug. “I mean, I bought everything, but yeah. You like anything?”

I liked it all.

Why is he doing this?

Because he was a control freak, but for some reason, I didn’t mind it. One of the things that had initially stood out about him was his power, his control.

He exuded it.

When the dark prince wanted something, he took it, and part of me hated to admit that turned me on. I hooked the dress. “You pick.”

It was all gorgeous, and I couldn’t.

With free rein, Bow dove right in. She immediately picked a black number with poofy stuff beneath and a plunging neckline. I looked like I was going to prom, but not in a bad way. Honestly, I probably would have picked something similar for myself.

The heels were to die for.

She picked a stiletto that buckled at my ankles. This basically made me look more like a giraffe than I already did, but I didn’t care. They were super cute, and I sat down while Bow applied the final touches. She’d already put my makeup on, but had waited for the lipstick since we hadn’t picked the dress yet.

She decided on a red, and I let her apply it. My phone buzzed while she did.

Ares: Don’t hate D too much for doing this shit. I tried to talk him out of it.

So he had heard about tonight’s… whatever the fuck this was. I smirked.

Me: As you like to say, the jury is still out. I’m currently getting dolled the fuck up by Bow.

I snapped a picture to show him, flipping off the camera when I did. This had Bow eyeing me, but as sweet as she was, she didn’t ask.

Ares: LOL. Right back at you, and good for you. You managed not to look completely hopeless.

I swear to God I didn’t let people get away with talking to me like that, but time and time again, he did. Maybe it was because I was around him enough to know that was just his personality, as weirdly fucked as it was.

Me: Nice, you asshole. Anyway, don’t fuck up your art thing. The guys told me about it.

If he could dish it, he better take it.

Ares: I’m not going to fuck it up. Hard not to. Our shit is awesome.

It was awesome.

Ares: Anyway, good luck tonight. Hope it’s nice and don’t hurt my boy. I feel like since he’s met you, there’s no coming back for him.

I started to text something back but stopped when I noticed Bow just staring at me. She lowered her tube of lipstick, a small smile on her lips. I faced the mirror, and my lips parted.

I’d never seen myself so dressed up, and dare I say, I pulled this shit off. I looked pretty, real pretty. Bow had my hair bumped underneath with a curling iron she had, my eyelids a smoky black and lips a matte red. I’d say I appeared very femme fatale, which I fucking loved.

“Wow,” Bow stated, her head tilted. “Gorgeous, Sloane, and something about it is just…” She shook her head. “So familiar. You remind me of someone.”

“Who?” I pushed some hair behind my ear.

She hugged her arms. “I don’t know. This is all just familiar.”

Well, whoever the person was must have been a knockout, and I told her as such, making her laugh. She rushed me out of the locker room after that, telling me to go out the doors and follow the hallway down to the far exits. She said I’d know what to do from there.

I did.

I just kind of stood there for a moment actually. I supposed I didn’t really know what to do first.

This boy had had planes delivered on the field. Like actual planes. He had biplanes and a couple of helicopters. Each one had Prinze Aviation stamped on the side, and I crossed my arms.

He’s something else.

I had a feeling I wasn’t alone in that moment, a light prickle on the back of my neck. The heavy cadence that followed confirmed it. My lips lifted. “You get off just creeping around watching people?”

Dorian arrived beside me too quick, and I hadn’t been expecting it. My skin buzzing, I turned.

He hadn’t just rolled off the couch, his navy blazer hugging his thick arms. He had the nerve to appear somewhat dashing tonight, the collar of his dress shirt open and his twill pants tight around his muscular thighs. He caught me looking and fingered his dirty-blond hair.

“I see nothing’s changed.” He caged me in between two firm biceps, grabbing the bar that separated the high bleachers from the lower ones. His dress shirt laboring at the seams, he grinned. “You still never pass up a chance to eye-fuck me.”

“And what were you doing just now?” I countered, ignoring his proximity.

As well as my fucking heart racing.

I swallowed. “How long were you watching me?”

“I never said I wasn’t.” His dark eyes roamed, stopping at my breasts. He found my eyes. “Still am.”

“Well, don’t.” I put a hand on his chest, my fingers burning from the heat. I meant to push him off, but something had me hesitating.

He noticed, the smile falling from his lips. He didn’t give me breathing room, but he didn’t advance either.

I wet my lips. “What is this, Dorian?” He had said he’d wait, and whatever this was wasn’t waiting. He’d also said I had to give him something.

He scanned my eyes. “Maybe I don’t care.”

“Don’t care?”

He nodded. “Maybe I’m going to try something out.” He pushed off the bar. “Maybe I’m going to take a chance.”

I didn’t understand.

He angled around. “This is my legacy,” he said, waving toward the planes on the field. He smiled. “Well, part of it. My dad is a pilot, amongst other things. These are his planes.” He eyed me. “He taught me everything I know.”

“As in you fly these?” I asked, and when he acknowledged that, his head bobbing once, my brow twitched. “Does your dad know you have his planes?”

“I’d like to think so since he signed off the paperwork.” He eased his hands into his pockets. “They’re on loan for the night.”

“On loan?”

Dorian’s head cocked. “I want to show you my life, Noa Sloane. I’m going to do that, and maybe I don’t care how you feel about it. Maybe I’m going to put myself out there regardless of what you’re giving me back.”

“Maybe I’m going to take a chance.”

His previous words in my head, my lips parted. “Your dad’s just cool with you taking his planes?”

He rolled his shoulders. “He wanted to know what for, and when I told him, he was cool.” His smile started slow. “I told him I wanted to impress a girl.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, watching as he put out his hand.

“Outside of football, flying is my life,” he said, his expression serious. “It’s something my dad shared with me, and I value that.”

His reasons came to mind when he said that, his notes. He was opening himself up. I eyed his hand. “This looks a lot like a date.”

“It’s whatever you want to call it.” He didn’t lower his hand. “And my notes said control was something I was working on.”

His wink that followed had me laughing. I took his hand, and as it turned out, that was a good thing in these stilettos. He helped me down to the sidelines, and with all that grass, I really wasn’t trying to sink into the ground with these heels.

I stepped down daintily, and he must have noticed my difficulty because he gave me his back. He like literally hunkered down, and when he physically put me on his back, I squealed like a motherfucker.

“Dorian!”

“Probably not the ride you thought you were getting tonight, huh?” he stated, chuckling, then proceeded to be an asshole and race across the field.

“Dorian, stop!”

He merely picked up pace, and I screamed for my damn life. The dickwad showboated too when he spun me around, and I grabbed on to him so tight he’d probably see the marks for days. He didn’t slow until we arrived at one of his dad’s helicopters.

He placed me down then, only appearing slightly out of breath, unlike me. I hadn’t run but my adrenaline was through the roof. I pointed at him. “I’m going to kill you. This is not how you impress a girl.”

“Like you’d have it any other way.” He crowded me again, his hands on the plane. “You say we don’t work, but this is how we work, Noa. We fuck around. We fuck with each other.”

He was right, of course. We were burning flames, wild and insane.

But those flames worked in the wrong way most often. We charred everything in sight most of the time. Especially each other.

Dorian’s smile fell away, and when he curled a finger over my cheek, I swallowed.

“Stop using this.” He touched my temple. His smile returning, he gave me space. “Just have fun with me. We’re going to have fun. I swear.”

I didn’t trust him, and I definitely didn’t trust me. I didn’t trust what I’d do with him, but I allowed him to hop into his plane and take me with him.

Dorian took the pilot’s seat right away, helping me into mine. He happened to have a couple of headsets, and after he assisted me with mine, he put his own on.

“Now, I know this may disappoint you, but I’ve been strictly told we can’t leave the ground today,” he said, smirking. “Dad mentioned something about insurance or liability or some shit.”

I laughed, and he grinned.

“But this will give you the idea.” He sat back. “Imagine we’re in the sky. Limitless in the night, and there’s nothing but the lights of the city below us.”

It sounded amazing, yeah. “You fly with your dad?”

“When I can.” Threading his fingers, he propped them behind his head. “It’s been a while. Actually, not since Charlie died. My uncle didn’t fly, but he liked to come with us.”

He said this casually, but I knew how his uncle’s death had affected him. The lengths he’d gone to tell Charlie’s story showed me that. “Can you tell me about him? Charlie?”

A slight wince touched his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “Why do you want to hear about him?”

I didn’t know why, but probably because his uncle was a part of him. It might help me understand him.

I supposed this was a selfish request, callous enough.

His look was dismissive. “I mean, what can I say? Charlie was my brother.” His head turned on the seat, his eyes hard. “The kid was my hero. We were Batman and Robin.” He smirked as if at the memory. “He was Batman, and I was his shitty-ass Robin.”

He took off his headset, tucking it under his arm, and I wished I hadn’t asked. I took mine off too. “You still blame yourself.”

“Hard not to, Sloane.” He lifted a hand. “We’ve talked about this. If I had nutted the fuck up, opened my goddamn mouth about him and Mayberry, he’d be here right now.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And neither do you.” He scanned my eyes. “That’s my reality.” He shook his head. “You probably wouldn’t understand.”

I think I did, a little. I shrugged. “Bru getting sick I think is my fault.”

“How so?”

I lay back. “We can’t prove it, but I think he might have gotten sick because he went into that lake.”

He frowned. “That’s what the doctor said?”

“No, but they can’t prove it.”

He studied the floor, his head shaking. “Well, I guess that’s my fault too, then.” His head tilted. “I got involved with your brother. He wouldn’t have even done that haze and tried to get into my crew had I not been fucking with you and him.”

“No more your fault than mine.” I nodded when he shook his head. “You and I…”

“Yeah?”

I shouldn’t have looked at him in that moment, my mouth dry. “We’re what you said. We fuck around. We fuck with each other, and people get affected by that.”

We really were chaos, madness.

“Maybe.” His shoulders lifted. “But it doesn’t always have to be that way. We can be whatever we want.”

“How?” We’d only been one way; he’d only been one way. “Why did you leave me?”

I hadn’t meant to ask that.

But the words were said.

I put them out there, and they hung between us. My throat tightened. “Where did you go, Dorian?”

I asked him this, but I didn’t want a physical place. I knew he’d been with his family, but I needed to know the why. He’d left me both physically and mentally.

That was what I asked.

I wasn’t sure if he got that, and when soft music played from somewhere in the stands, he faced me.

“Dance with me,” he said, putting out his hand. “Make this a real date.”

The plea in his tone matched his eyes. I didn’t want to dance with him. I wanted to run away and take back what I’d asked.

Instead, I took his hand.

Dorian helped me back on the field, and when he placed me in his arms, I hated how familiar that felt. I hated how it felt like home. I wanted it to feel as dark and foreign as how he’d initially been in my life. I didn’t want to feel comfort in our madness.

But I did. I felt warm…

I even felt safe.

He felt as soothing around me as he always had, and I hated that.

“Number twenty.”

I gazed up, my gaze clashing with his. “What?”

“Where I went was number twenty.” His throat jumped. “Where I went… Why I left was reason number twenty why I’m fucked up. It’s not blank like my last note.”

He stopped our sway, gentle music playing around us. I gauged now it was playing from the stadium’s speakers.

“And it’s not the last reason I am.” His throat jumped. “It’s not, but it’s a big one. Maybe even the biggest.”

His breath was shallow, weighted as he took my hands.

“When things get real, I don’t handle it. It’s easier not to trust my instincts. It’s easier to question shit even when shit is good. Even when…” He blinked. “I question everything. I don’t trust myself to do the right thing. I always fuck up like with that shit with Charlie.”

“Dorian…”

He squeezed my hands. “Now, ask me what I’m going to do about it. Tell me to tell you what I’m going to do to fix it.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to know, my hands shaking in his. I didn’t know if I was ready to know.

“What are you going to do about it?” I didn’t know how he heard me. My voice was so quiet.

“I’m going to take a chance.” His hand covered the back of my neck. He wet his lips. “Because I’m so fucking into this girl. I’m into her, and even though she thinks we’re fucked up, I think we’re perfect.”

I gasped, my chest trembling. “You do?”

He nodded, a flush across his neck. “We make sense, and I’m going to take a chance against my own odds.”

Because he didn’t trust himself and still didn’t. This probably didn’t look right to him.

But it felt right.

It did for me too, and my gaze averted, tears in my eyes. It felt right, but he’d hurt me.

He caged my face, bringing me back. “Let me show you how much we make sense.” His eyes narrowed. “Let me kiss you.”

Dorian never asked for permission. He didn’t bother.

But he did today.

“Is it going to hurt?” Giving in to him had hurt before. It had hurt so bad.

His fingers curled against my jaw. “If it does, I’ll make it fucking better.” He covered my face. “And never stop fighting until it is.”

His thumb grazed my chin, and I gasped. “You promise?”

“I fucking promise.” He touched our foreheads together, hugging me close. “I promise.”

The words whispered in a breath, and when I lifted my head, I nodded. “I want you to kiss me.”

“Yeah?” His eyes crinkled, his grin slow. He tipped my chin. “Fuck, yeah.”

He covered my mouth, and when I gripped his lapels, he pretty much hugged me off my feet. He fused us together, his tongue easing into my mouth, and I smiled when he spun us around.

It was like we were still dancing, or up in that sky like he’d mentioned. It was night, and there was nothing but lights.

We were the stars.

Dorian returned me to my feet in a sway, but even still, he didn’t stop kissing me. He hugged me to him, pressing me close, and it took me a second to hear we had an audience.

“Hell, yeah, bitches!” shot from the stands and caused both Dorian and me to fall apart in laughter. Wells, Thatcher, Bow, and my brother chanted at the top of their lungs, and though I couldn’t determine who’d initially called out to us, Wells was the one standing on the bleachers. He charged his fist. “Whoop! Whoop! Get that ass, D. Get that, get that ass, D!”

“Whoop! Get that ass, D! Get that, get that ass, D!” Thatcher shouted, backing Wells up. He tried to get up on the bleachers himself, but he fell off like a goddamn fucking idiot.

Bru and Bow both shook their heads at his ass, and Wells was roaring.

Despite his fall, Thatcher continued to chant for Dorian to “get that ass,” and Dorian flipped him off before kissing me again. He dipped me down and everything, and I let him because I was swept up in the moment too. The dark prince just made another declaration to me, but this was deeper than his notes. He’d promised me something, and a lot came with that. Being with him may always hurt.

Even if he did promise he’d make it better.