Page 29
I really hadn’t picked out a costume at the time; I just intended to wear a bunch of gothic-looking clothes and some wild make up. I ran my hand over the suspender skirt inside and bit my lip.
If Kingston Crowe wanted to play games, I’d just have to show him that I played as good as any boy on the team.
Always had.
It didn’t take long to get ready, but it felt like I was crossing the desert when I made my way toward the bikes. I tipped my sunglasses and looked the row over, hoping I could recall which one was Royal’s.
Everyone knew which one was King’s, but I wanted to be spicy.
The door creaked, and I looked up to see Rigs stepping outside. She froze when she spotted me near King’s bike. I sniffed, straddled it backwards, and stretched out like I had all day to nap and wait on him.
“He’s going to fucking kill you. You better get your uppity ass off that bike, girl,” she sneered.
I trapped a laugh in my throat and flashed a playful grin as I turned my head to stare at her through the sunglasses. It was dusk, I didn’t need them, but they gave me confidence. So did the trail of glittering skulls that dangled from my ear and whispered across my neck every time I turned my head.
The door popped open and a small crowd erupted behind her. Some of the people began pushing against others that had stopped when they noticed me. I took the glasses off and tossed them at Rigs, leaving her no choice but to catch or be smacked with them.
“What the f–?” Kingston started, but his words trailed off when I pinned him with my gaze.
The toothpick jutting out of his mouth stopped rolling and a smile stretched around it.
“You leave me waiting like that again, I might be straddling your brother's toy next time you walk out,” I loudly warned, before reminding him, “I’m not one of these Tainted Sweet Buns that doesn’t have anything better to do than wait on the majesty of your smile to land on me again.”
“Right. Don’t forget, boys. She is top-tier coochie. The bartending variety,” my brother’s attention whore of a girlfriend crowed from beside Preach.
“What did I mi–? Oh, shit.” My brother stopped between her and Preach and stared at me.
“Oh nothing. Just your sister telling Kingston that she is better than any of us.” Sabrina rolled her eyes.
I’d not bothered looking directly at her yet. I was still trying to figure out why my brother did. Where class was concerned, she was beneath even the Sweethearts.
“Paxton, tell your skank to go back to that dumpster dive you found her in before today becomes the day her mouth outdoes her ass.” I kept my tone pleasant, but I meant every word.
The crowd broke out in titters. Meanwhile, Sabrina’s outrage was plastered on her cheap face as she poked at my brother’s ribs and rattled in his ear.
“I– I told you to stop calling her that. You can’t be calling her a skank, you’re gonna end up doing it in front of my son.”
Kingston stepped in front of me, blocking my brother and his waste of air from view.
“Right. Wouldn’t want little Pistol to learn what a slummed-up rebound looks like at such a young age. Skabrina it is.”
“Paxton,” she howled, demanding a defense.
“Shut the fuck up before I invite the boy’s mother to Thanksgiving, Skabrina,” I tormented, until Kingston finally slid his hand behind my head and brought his mouth to mine.
“Ignore that skank and get your ass up so I can climb on with you. We got business.”
“Do we?” I sang, letting him take my hand and daintily help me up.
He didn’t answer, he just got on the bike and glanced expectantly behind him.
I ran my hand up his back, through the short tufts of hair at the base of his skull and snatched what little I could at the top.
There was violence in his eyes when I forcefully tipped his head back and kissed him like I might never let him breathe again. There was something between us. A dance that was more addicting than anything I’d ever heard of.
Infatuation. Lust. Annoyance. Irritation. Passion. Hate.
It all mixed in the depths of his eyes, until I was tingling with the urge to push him to the limits of everything that stared back at me.
