“Deklan’s room,” Brooke says, nodding towards the door.
The place is massive. In the corner is a drum set, a few amps and huge speakers. A guy with ash-blond dreadlocks is tuning his guitar. Seeing us, he grins and waves.
“That’s Curtis,” Brooke says and I smile. He isn’t at all what I imagined. He looks like he could be blown over by a strong wind.
A large, black sofa is backed up against the staircase wall where two guys sit, playing video games. The sound has been turned down low and, beside the couch, a familiar blonde sits in a recliner, watching the guys play the game while her friend sits on the floor by her feet, texting.
Isn’t that Cicely’s good friend?
Oh crap. Is Cicely here, too?
The peroxide blonde is busy texting, but her friend looks up at me, her gaze shifting from head to toe and back again. Her brow arches before she turns her attention back to her own phone.
Nice welcome.
“Don’t let these bitches get you riled up,” Sadie whispers into my ear. “They’re the usual groupies.”
I nod…but her words hardly reassure me.
“Where’s Deklan?” Sadie asks the guys on the couch.
One of them shrugs. “In his room, I think.”
“There he is,” Brooke says, motioning to someone behind me.
I turn. A guy with a dark faux-hawk, multiple piercings, and full-sleeved tattoos comes walking out of the door that had been closed. His hair is still wet and he is pulling a crisp, white t-shirt over his head, giving me a peek of writing on his chest as well as his side; tattoos disappear into the waistband of his low-riding jeans. Not only does he look incredible, he smells amazing, too. Not like any particular cologne or body spray, but a masculine scent combined with a sporty soap.
My mouth goes dry.
“Hey, Deklan,” Brooke greets him, taking a step closer to me. “This is my cousin, Kenzie. Kenzie, this is Deklan.”
Deklan’s lips curve into a wide smile, flashing straight white teeth. His eyes are thickly lashed and a stunning green, a unique color I have rarely seen. Both ears are pierced and he wears small hoops in each, a hoop in his right nostril, and one in his lower lip.
I try to remember if Brooke said anything about Deklan, and honestly, I am surprised she hasn’t. This guy is gorgeous.
The girls in the chair sit up a little straighter. “Hey, Deklan,” the friend of the blonde says, setting her phone aside. Apparently, Ryder isn’t the only draw for The Frozen.
“Hey.” He gives her a nod and returns his attention to me.
I am strangely intrigued by all his piercings and tattoos. My brother and his friends are all typical jocks, though his best friend has a tribal band tattoo around his bicep that the coach makes him cover up before games.
All my life I’ve associated tattoos with bikers and bad boys. Is Deklan a bad boy? I wonder.
Everything about this group is unfamiliar to me...but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it’s kind of exciting.
“I’ll be right back,” Brooke says, heading for Curtis while Sadie heads for a refrigerator in the far corner of the room.
Clearing my throat, I blurt, “This is a nice place.”
“The rent’s fair,” he says, once again flashing a great smile.
How had my cousin managed to get the two hottest guys I’ve ever met in my life, in her band? “So your room is downstairs?” I ask and about choke when I realize how that sounds. I’m sure he has girls throwing themselves at him and looking to be asked to his room all the time.
“Yeah, I like it. It’s nice to have my own space. I have my own living room—well, when the band isn’t practicing that is.”
“Do you get tired of always having people around?” I ask, wondering if he ever has any downtime. “I mean, with always practicing and stuff.”
He shrugs. “There are pros and cons. I do have plenty of alone time during the week since Curtis and Terry, Curtis’s big brother who is also the landlord, have day jobs.”
“Is Terry here?”
“No, he spends a lot of time in Olympia with his new girlfriend. He leaves on Friday after work and comes home late Sunday night.”
“Sounds ideal.”
He laughs. “It is.”
And what a perfect scenario for a band. It doesn’t get much better than having your landlord leave for the weekend.
My gaze shifts to his tattoos. He brushes a hand along his forearm, over a gothic cross inked there. Crap, I hope he doesn’t think I’m being rude. “I like your tattoos.”
There is that smile again and my heart rate picks up speed.
“Thank you.”
“Who did them?”
“Uncle Steve.”
“Your uncle tattoos?”
Deklan shakes his head. “Uncle Steve is a tattoo artist in town. A great guy who owns a tattoo shop on the corner of Eighth and Grant, across from the park.”
I have no idea where Eighth and Grant are, or the park, for that matter, but I nod like I do. “He does amazing work.” It isn’t a lie. I like that all the tattoos are done in black and white with shades of grey. “Is that an eagle?” I ask, nodding towards his left bicep.
“Yeah.” He rolls his arm and shows me the inside of his bicep. He has the lean body of a professional athlete with lots of muscular definition.
“Amazing detail,” I say, meaning it. He is a walking piece of art and I can only imagine the time and effort that went into each piece.
“Do you have any tattoos?” he asks, his gaze shifting over me.
“No, I’m not legal yet.”
“No, you’re not, are you?”
There is a silky soft quality to his voice that makes the hair on my arms stand on end.
“I’ve heard that it hurts,” I blurt, shifting on my feet. “I’m kind of a wuss when it comes to pain.”
“Actually, getting tattooed doesn’t hurt that bad.” I must look skeptical because he laughs. “Well, some places hurt more than others.”
“Like what places?” My voice sounds strange and I realize too late that I might just be flirting with this crazily gorgeous guy.
“Like the sides and ribcage. I could only go for two hours a setting when I got those done.”
I can’t imagine getting a tattoo. Just getting my ears pierced at thirteen had been enough for me. I wonder about all the piercings and tattoos Deklan has. Once, I read that pain was something people liked—that they almost craved it—and I wondered if Deklan falls into that same category. Why else, at such a young age, would he have so many piercings and tattoos?
“How old are you?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Twenty-two.”
“Why do you want to know his age?” The question comes from someone behind me.
I turn and my pulse skitters.
Ryder.
CHAPTER 5
The question lingers in the air, but I don’t bother to answer as Deklan and Ryder grasp hands, giving each other what Ange and I have always referred to as the guy hug. The kind where they touch opposite shoulders with each other while holding onto each other’s hands and giving a quick pat on the back, then an immediate release.
Ryder looks amazing in a snug, blue, long-sleeved, button-down shirt that he has pushed up to his elbows. He’s also wearing the same leather bands around his wrists that he wears every day, along with the St. Christopher medal.
Suddenly, blondie seems to gravitate our way.
Groupies.
I wonder when and if Cicely will arrive or if she just sent her buddies to keep an eye out for her.
Blondie takes a drink from her neon green plastic cup as she walks towards us, her friend on her heels. She manages to drip part of the contents on her chin and cleavage. Apparently, someone has been drinking for a while. Her friend’s eyes are red, making me wonder if drinking isn’t all they’ve been up to.
The taller of the two is wearing tight, black capris and a white tank top...and is th
at a birth control patch on her shoulder? Nothing like advertising the fact you aren’t a virgin. Granted, I understand that most girls my age have already had sex, but is it really necessary to tell the world that you are sleeping around?
“How are you, Kenz?” Ryder asks.
Kenz? My stomach flips. “Good, how are you?” My voice comes out all squeaky. I have a feeling the girl and her friends hear it because they crack up as they join us.
I ignore them.
My gaze shifts between Ryder and Deklan, trying to decide which one is better looking.
It’s a toss-up. They’re both gorgeous.
Ryder reaches out and runs a finger under the neckline of my borrowed vest. “I like this. Very rock and roll.”
I’m thrilled by the compliment and even more thrilled by the touch. “Brooke’s,” I say, feeling tongue-tied.
When his hand lingers, my heart begins slamming like crazy against my ribs.
“I thought so,” Deklan says. “Looks good on you.”
The blonde yanks on the skirt that has rode up her thighs. I can tell she doesn’t like me. In fact, she looks like she wants to rip my head off. Ryder glances her way, but only for a second. The diversion is enough to have him drop his hand, though.
“So. You’re Brooke’s cousin. Do you have any siblings?” Deklan asks and I’m so grateful for the change of subject.
Blondie rises up on her toes and whispers something into Ryder’s ear.
“Yeah, I have a brother,” I reply, trying to ignore the flirtatious blonde. “He’s a freshman at UW.”
“Have you been to Seattle, yet?”
“No, not yet, but I heard it’s beautiful.”
Deklan nods. “Yeah, Seattle’s a great city—but nothing beats Portland.”
I haven’t had anyone ask me as many questions as Deklan is. My cousin hasn’t even seemed as interested in my life as he is.
“Didn’t you go to like a Catholic school or something?” the blonde with the leather skirt asks. “Like an all-girls school?” Her eyes are full of mock horror.
Why do I suddenly have the feeling that someone has gotten ahold of my student file? What next, will she be reciting my grades for everyone to hear? I’ve always been an A student, so she doesn’t have any dirt on me. “Yeah, that’s right.”
Ryder looks surprised and strangely pleased by that bit of information. “An all-girls school, huh?”
He has a hot, heavy-lidded look to his eyes. I shift on my feet. “Yeah.”
“I’d rather die,” blondie says under her breath.
“What does your father do?” blondie’s buddy asks, making me wonder if she’s intentionally trying to get a rise out of me.
The very mention of my dad makes my blood pressure rise and gives me a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. I hate the way I feel about my dad. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for leaving my mom for another woman. “Oh yeah, that’s right,” she says with a smug smile on her lips. “He’s in the hospitality business.”
She lifts a brow. “Wait a second...I think I read something about him online. Didn’t he have an affair with a struggling actress?”
My heart drops to my toes.
“And your mom found the two of them together in her bed?”
I can feel the blood drain from my face. I hate the Internet just for that reason. Nothing is private.
“If it were me, I think I would have set the house on fire,” she mutters beneath her breath, but I hear every word.
I’m sure my mom has been tempted to do just that, but she’s handling herself with as much dignity as she can while her husband of twenty-two years parades his much younger girlfriend around town.
“That’s enough,” Deklan says, staring at the two girls who drop their gazes to the floor.
Blondie mutters something else under her breath that I don’t catch.
Fuck you. The words are on the tip of my tongue and yet, I can’t get them past my lips.
Deklan reaches out and touches my hand. That small gesture tells me I’m not alone. I glance at him and his eyes are soft, sweet, calming. “Can I get you something to drink? I have water or pop.”
I clear my throat. “Water would be nice.”
I’m grateful for the distraction...but obviously blondie isn’t about to let it go. In fact, she looks even more irritated that Deklan has come to my rescue. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.” Her grin completely contradicts her apology. “I’m sure it was really hard for you.”
I force a smile. “We can’t pick our parents now, can we?”
“No, we can’t,” Ryder says, watching Deklan’s retreating back as he goes to the refrigerator. He returns with my water and a cola for himself.
A large group comes thundering down the steps and, as they are greeted by Deklan and Ryder, I walk over to Brooke and Sadie, still shaking.
Seeing me, Brooke slides her hand around my elbow in a gesture that surprises me. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I don’t tell her about what the girls said because that would just start drama and I so don’t need any more drama in my life.
Soon the room is packed and I’m actually grateful to be wearing the vest because I start to sweat from all the body heat. Sadie pushes a drink into my hand and I slide the bottle of water Deklan gave me into my purse, taking a sip and cringing as the liquor burns its way down my throat.
I can count the times I’ve drank on one hand with each and every one of those times ending up with my head in a toilet as well as moments of the night being a complete blur. I’m a cheap drunk and need to watch myself or I’ll make an impression that I don’t want to give tonight. Brooke’s sometimes boyfriend approaches me and we’re introduced. He’s cute and has the kindest eyes I have ever seen. I glance over at Ryder and Deklan to find them both watching me.
I wonder what they are talking about. Now that they know more about me than I wanted them to know—thanks to blondie—I can imagine them doing their own Internet search about my family.
“Ready?” Brooke asks Curtis.
He nods.
She grabs my hand and leads me out of the room and back up the stairs; Sadie on our heels. I glance back to see Ryder talking to the blonde and her friend. Deklan is busy with new arrivals, a group of five guys.
Upstairs, a guy with shaggy, blond hair is sprawled on the couch, his hat pulled down over his eyes.
Sadie snorts. “Looks like someone had one too many hits.”
Too many hits of what? I wonder.
“Shocker,” Brooke replies, taking an abrupt left and walking into a room with a double bed, a simple nightstand, a dresser and pictures of sailboats on the wall.
“Who sleeps here?” I ask.
Brooke tosses her purse on the bed and rummages through it. “Curtis.”
“Looks like a hotel room.”
Brooke laughs. “His grandparents lived here and he can’t bear to change the pictures. He still hopes that one day they’ll be able to move back in. Both are pretty sick, though. Doesn’t look good.”
On the dresser there is a picture of two young boys in a silver frame. I can tell one is Curtis. “His brother lives here, too, huh?”
“Yeah, Terry moved in first then needed help with the rent so Deklan and Curtis moved in.”
“I always thought the house would be paid for since it’s his grandparents’ place,” Sadie says, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, but the family is using the rent to help sustain the grandparents,” Brooke explains as she pulls out a small piece of foil from her purse.
Brooke looks at me, eyes narrowed. “Can I trust you?”
My stomach tightens. I don’t like the tone of her voice...or the way she watches me so intently. I glance at Sadie, whose gaze skips to Brooke.
I nod. “Of course.”
“Good.” Her grin widens and she nods at Sadie, who pulls a mirror out of the bottom dresser drawer. Carefully, she opens the foil an
d produces a small pebble.
My heart pounds hard against my breastbone. What the hell? Granted, I knew my cousin had changed in the years since we spent time together at our grandparents’ house, but I hadn’t expected her to be the drug-taking type.
Sadie brushes her fingers through her hair and puts the locks up in a sloppy ponytail with a hairband she scrounges from her purse. “You ever try coke?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “No,” I reply, the word coming out as little more than a whisper.
I know the damage drugs can do, though. That’s one thing I can say about Saint Catherine’s. They hammered home how dangerous ingesting any drug, including alcohol, can be. I glance at the glass that had been in Brooke’s hand and is now resting on top of the dresser. Obviously she isn’t drinking pop because she’d probably just be drinking out of a can.
Mixing drugs and alcohol is an even more lethal combination.
“We have a drug virgin here,” Sadie says, completely focused on Brooke who is chopping up the nugget of cocaine. “You can take just a small line. Nothing too big, just enough to get a great buzz going.”
I’m on the verge of telling them no when Curtis walks through the door, shutting it behind him and plopping down on his bed beside Sadie. “I thought you’d have it chopped up by now.”
Brooke frowns. “Christ, you scared me. You could have knocked.”
“Considering this is my room, I didn’t think I had to.”
Without missing a beat, Brooke continues chopping the coke and putting the powder into lines.
She produces a short, hard, plastic straw and hands the mirror to me. “Here, you do the honors.”
I want to run from the room. I so am not comfortable doing this. “What’s it supposed to do?”
She grins. “It gives you a little boost.”
I really don’t want a little boost. Sweat breaks out on my forehead and everything within me is telling me to say no. “I think I’ll sit out this time.”
“Come on, Kenzie,” Sadie prompts, looking agitated when I continue to hesitate.
“Go ahead, I’m good.” I motion to the mirror.
Thin White Line Page 4
