“Clarke? Didn’t he wonder why you were still in your ‘biker costumes’?” I make air quotes with my fingers.
“Didn’t wanna rock the boat by asking.” Sinner laughs while he fiddles with connecting the TV.
Oooo-kay.
Once they have everything up and running, Colt takes off to return the van he used to bring over the TV. Sinner sits down, flipping through the setup guide with the remote.
I can’t let them keep doing this. I’m only here because Mom was adamant it wouldn’t look good if people saw me going in and out of her place. Using my allowance to decorate felt like even more of a waste of money, but at this rate, it’ll look like I actually live here.
“Not to put a damper on the party, but I’m kinda working today.”
Sinner gives me long, slow once over, taking in my sundress and low-heeled sandals. “You mean you didn’t dress up just for me? Not that you need to. The T-shirt and bare legs look is always a favorite. Even better if the shirt’s mine.”
There’s a blush spreading across my cheeks, and I know he sees it. “Believe it or not, no. I’m meeting Erika down at Brentport Commons in about a half an hour.”
“What’re you going to do? Eat ice cream and feed the ducks?” he asks with a dismissive chuckle.
When he puts it like that, it sounds ridiculous, but… “Yeah, actually. How do you think the media ends up with all those candid pictures of celebrities? This isn’t LA and we’re not A-list actors, so nobody just happens to be hanging out waiting to take pictures of us. Our managers make sure someone will be around to catch us hanging out together so they have new pictures to post without it looking staged.”
“People hide out to take pictures of us sometimes, too.” He emphasizes it with a playful wink. “But it’s usually the cops.”
“Are you… You’re joking, right?”
“Meh.” He shrugs. “You want a ride?”
“On your bike?” I remember Priest talking about what it means to ride on the back. “You don’t mind? I was going to call for a car.”
“Yeah, Demon, it’s fine. Though I hate to say it because you’re looking sexy as fuck in that dress, but you’d need to change.”
He probably has a point. It’s not the safest outfit for riding, and if we were seen out together right now, the headlines would be something like ‘Barbie and the Bikers’.
I change into a pair of hip hugging jeans with fashionable slits across one thigh, and pair them with a flowy black cotton top and some layered necklaces. With my hair pulled up and pulling on Desdemona’s jacket again, it’s a much more motorcycle appropriate outfit. Hopefully, it’ll still be cute enough that Mom doesn’t tear my ear off for not wearing what we picked out together.
Sinner lets out a low whistle when I emerge. “We need to take you to a party at the club one of these nights. You can really let your hair down. Might be a little wild for a nice girl like you, though.”
“I’m notthatnice.”
He doesn’t look very convinced. “Compared to us you are. I know you didn’t come from money or anything, but look at you. You’re living in this place, and probably gonna be out of this town and onto something big before you know it. And then I’ll be able to say I kissed Quinn fucking Callahan.”
I plop down onto the couch next to him. My fingertip fiddles with one of the slits in my jeans. “Now you’re the one beingnice.I never would’ve expected?—”
“What? That we’d look out for you? You’re practically Priest’s little sister, that puts you under our protection.”
“Little sister? Is that how you think about me?”
He laughs. “Fuck no. The way I think about you is probably illegal in some places, and I already have one sister. Don’t need another.”
“Really?” It shouldn’t surprise me. It’s not like I think bikers spawn in a pond somewhere. They must all have histories and families, I’ve just never really considered it.
“Yeah, Mila. She’s not much older than you, actually.”
“She’s lucky to have you for a brother.”
His full lips draw into a tight line and he shakes his head. “Nah. I did a shit job taking care of her, so maybe taking care of someone else’s is my do-over.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
What’s left of Sinner’s smile drops completely. “It really fucking is. This guy you’re looking at? He’s three fucking years old. I was a mess when I was a kid. Don’t romanticize me, Quinn. Shit, I basically grew up in prison and it wasn’t pretty.”