By the time we pull up in front of Indie’s rental, we’re all annoyed and claustrophobic, and we spill out of the car with none of our normal athleticism or grace. Maddox sticks his head back into the car.
“Stay here. He won’t be too long, then we’ll have you drive us back. We’ll make it worth your while.”
“No problem,” our driver says. Then he turns to me. “Good luck with your girl.”
I really hope he’s cool. Otherwise, he knows enough about my history with Indie after that car ride that he could probably make a pretty penny selling it to some gossip rag.
Indie would hate my guts for that.
The guys surround me, hyping me up the same way they do before a game. They rub my shoulders, mess up my hair, and remind me of the plan: to calmly and gently try to get Indie to talk about our past and her feelings.
“You’ve got this,” Ryder says, giving my shoulders a squeeze.
“Calm and cool,” Griffin adds.
“Right. Yeah. I’ve totally got this.” I shake my arms out and hop in place a few times. “I’m going in.”
I don’t wait for any of them to respond before I’m striding up the sidewalk and onto Indie’s porch. And then I knock.
It’s only midnight. She should still be up, right?
When she doesn’t answer the door after a pause, I knock again, harder this time. “Indie. Indie, open up!” I knock more.
When I turn around to look at the guys, they all give me a thumbs-up.
“Indie!” I pound on the door a few more times. “Come on, Rosebud. I know you’re in there.” I raise my fist to knock again when the door swings open.
“What in the actual fuck, Sebastian?” Even glaring, her pink hair wild and messy, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And when she crosses her arms over her chest and pushes her breasts together, wearing nothing more than a cotton tank top and some sleep shorts, my dick hardens.
She’s so pretty, she can even overcome whiskey dick.
I know we came up with a plan on the way here, but my brain empties in her presence. Which is why I blurt out, “Why did you stand me up that summer when we were eighteen? I waited for you. And when you didn’t show up, I went to your parents’ house, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. I called you. Like a hundred times. But you blocked my number. You just disappeared. Poof. Gone. Why?”
Indie opens her mouth, then closes it. Lola pokes her head out to check on things, but when she sees it’s just me, she smirks and heads back inside.
“I had all these plans, Indigo. It was going to be the best summer of our lives, then you up and disappeared like I didn’t mean a fucking thing to you. How could you do that?”
Indie stares at me for a beat, then scans the neighbors’ houses before her eyes land on my guys and narrow. “Are you drunk?”
“So what if I am?”
“Unbelievable.” She shakes her head at me. “I’m not doing this with you. Not while you’re drunk, and not in the middle of the night.”
“Oh, we’re doing this,” I say. “You’ve been ignoring me for two days. No, not two days. Ten years and two days. Enough is enough.”
“Lower your voice,” she hisses, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside before shutting the door. “Someone is going to call the cops.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will if it gets out. Trust me.”
“Why’d you do it?” I ask again, advancing on Indie. She takes a few big steps backward until her back hits the wall, and I cage her in with my arms. “You broke my fucking heart, Indigo Bloom.”
She stares at me, incredulous for a moment, before she says, “I brokeyourheart?” and laughs mirthlessly.
I nod. “You did.”
“That’s real fucking rich, coming from you.”