by Gemma Weir
“He’s cute.” Nova says, the only one of the five of us who seems oblivious to the tension.
“Nova,” Valentine warns.
“What? Emmy has two guys interested in her. I’ve been waiting for years for her to find one guy she gives a second look to, and now she’s got two. This is amazing,” she extolls excitedly.
A giggle bubbles between my lips and I try hard to stifle a grin.
“Two?” Griff asks.
“Yeah, Kent who she went out with last night; and now Van, the sexy frat guy,” Nova singsongs.
“You’re going out with that nerdy kid again?” Griff asks.
“He asked me out again,” I say, my voice softening a little.
Something flashes across his expression, but it’s gone so fast I think I might have imagined it. His eyes harden, and as I watch, his lips tighten into thin lines. Why is he so pissed? I know he’s not a fan of Kent and that he doesn’t think he’s the right guy for me, but what could he possibly have against Van? He doesn’t even know him. Is he…? Could he be jealous?
“Hey, Emmy.” A voice calls from behind me and I twist around to find Kent stood behind me.
“Kent, hi,” I say, my voice coming out a little shrill.
“Sorry, I know I said I’d call you later, but I saw you from across the way and thought I’d come say hi.”
“No, it’s fine. Are you on your way to class? Do you want to join us?” I ask, taking in his navy-blue chino shorts and adorable pale-pink polo shirt.
Kent’s eyes scan the others at the table and he swallows visibly.
“Here you go, dude. You can sit here,” Valentine says, lifting Nova up and grabbing a chair, before sitting back down at the end of the table and pulling her onto his lap.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.” Kent says warily.
“No, sit,” Griff says, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Tentatively, Kent slides into the open spot on the bench next to me, placing his bag at his feet and pulling out a sandwich.
“What did you get me to eat?” Nova asks, prompting the guys to hand out the food I’d almost forgotten about.
“Em, I got you a turkey club,” Zeke says, sliding the wrapped sandwich across the bench toward me.
“And they had that sweet tea we had the other day that you liked, so we grabbed you that too,” Griff adds, dipping his head toward the paper cup with a red and white striped straw poking from the lid.
“Thank you,” I say opening my sandwich and taking a quick bite. “As these knuckleheads didn’t make the best first impression the other night, let me introduce you again. This is Zeke, Griffin, Valentine, and Nova,” I say, motioning to each person in turn. “And guys, this is Kent.”
Everyone smiles and nods between bites of sandwich. “So, Kent, are you a freshman like us?” Valentine asks, before taking a pull of his soda.
I smile gratefully at Valentine, glad to have someone at least trying to make small talk.
Kent shakes his head. “Sophomore.”
“Cool, you picked out a major yet?”
“Yeah math. I’m a number geek,” Kent admits with a slightly embarrassed smile.
“I’m taking a few math classes. Which ones do you have this semester?” Valentine asks, seeming genuinely interested.
Kent tells Valentine about the statistics and linear algebra courses he has, and I use his distraction to glare at Zeke and Griffin, mouthing ‘be nice’ at them. The guys look at each other, then smirk, and I narrow my eyes in warning at them.
“Oh, I took linear algebra as a summer course,” Valentine says.
“You took a sophomore algebra course over the summer?” Kent repeats, shock clear in his voice.
“Yeah, I did all my AP classes in high school, then I took some summer classes so I could jump straight into the good stuff,” Valentine says nonchalantly.
“He’s a genius. We just ignore it,” Nova says dryly, smiling at Kent.
“Okay,” Kent says slowly. “So where are you all from?”
“A small town near Houston,” Griffin answers. “What about you?”
“I grew up near Washington, DC.”
“Was that sweet Mercedes yours?” Valentine asks.
“Yeah, it was a graduation gift from my parents, but I don’t really use it that much. I have a motorcycle.”
Shocked, I turn to Kent, catching Nova’s surprised eyes as I do.
“Nice, what do you ride?” Zeke asks, real enthusiasm in his tone.
“A Vespa,” Kent says, grinning proudly.
“A what?” Nova asks, clearing her throat.
“A Vespa. It’s an Italian scooter. It’s really cool,” he says, completely oblivious to our horror.
No one says anything as I try really hard not to make my internal cringe a visible one. A scooter is not a motorcycle. Our dads ride proper bikes: Harley’s and Honda’s and Triumph’s, huge vintage bikes, shiny and covered in chrome. I’m pretty sure my dad would kick the shit out of anyone who said they had a motorcycle and turned up on a scooter.
“Nice,” Valentine says, and I can tell he’s actually trying to make this whole situation better, but it doesn’t work.
The rest of lunch is a little forced. Everyone is polite and nice, but it’s awkward. Zeke and Griffin manage not to do any more obnoxious male posturing. I’m not sure if that’s because they’ve figured out that Kent is a nice guy, or just because they assume, I could never be interested in someone who says he has a motorcycle, then tells you he rides a Vespa.
I see the way they’re glancing between themselves, laughing behind their eyes at him, at me, and a wave of anger spreads through me. How dare they be so narrowminded, so judgmental. Valentine isn’t a biker, he’s a genius rich kid with a fucked up tragic past, but they never laughed at him. They never considered him an object of ridicule just because he’s different to us. In fact, from the day he turned up outside Auntie Brandi and Uncle Sleaze’s house they welcomed him, included him. Why does that only extend to him? Is this what it’s going to be like for every guy I date? Are they going to laugh behind his back, laugh at me?
The last hour has shown me more than ever that my friends truly don’t understand my desire to experience something different than the narrow world we grew up in. Sweet, geeky, scooter riding Kent is as much an enigma to them, as he’s a world of possibility to me. I’m craving the chance to try new things and see how they fit into my future, where my friends already know what they want and like and refuse to consider things that are outside of our usual norm.
“My class starts in ten minutes, so I need to get going,” Kent announces, standing from the table.
“Oh, okay,” I say, standing up too.
“I’ll call you later,” he says, leaning in and sweetly pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Bye, Emmy.”
“Bye, Kent.”
As I watch, he looks over my shoulder and tips his chin up at my friends. “Nice to see you guys, bye.”
“Bye,” Nova calls, while the guys just grunt.
With a final adorable wave, he leaves, and I sink back down into my seat. I wait until he’s far enough away that he won’t hear me before I speak. “You narrowminded, bigoted assholes,” I seethe, looking between Griff and Zeke. “Do you seriously think you’re so fucking special that it gives you the right to look down on other people because they’re different?”
Zeke opens his mouth to argue with me, but I lift my hand into the air and stop him. I shake my head, my anger fading into sad disappointment. “Who are you?” I ask. “You laughed at him, just because he rides a scooter. Do you know how pathetic that is? Do you laugh at me too because I want something different to the Sinner way of life? Do you laugh at the books I read, the new experiences I dream of? Is that who you are now? Assholes who think anything different than what you know or believe is something to poke fun at?”
I pause, taking in their horrified expressions and shake my head again. “Valentine, thank you for trying, I appr
eciate it. Nova, I’m gonna go. Are you staying or coming?”
She kisses her boyfriend on the lips, then slides off his lap, grabbing her bag from the floor. “Coming,” she says quietly.
Without another word, I spin around, giving the guys my back and walk away from them, my head held high, Nova at my side. Her fingers slide between mine as a show of solidarity as we head in the opposite direction.
As I watch her stalk away from me, Nova’s fingers entwined with hers, I can feel my body rising from the seat without me consciously deciding to follow her. Zeke’s hand lands on my shoulder pushing me down and I spin around to look at him.
“Nope,” he says, his lips pressed together in a firm, hard line.
“I need to go after her.”
“No you don’t. She needs to calm down, else one of you will end up saying something that will only make this whole mess worse.”
“Why don’t you just tell the girl you’re in love with her?” Valentine says dryly.
My head twists in his direction so fast I’m surprised I don’t give myself whiplash. “What?”
He laughs lowly. “Dude, the only person who doesn’t know how you feel about her is her. You’re not exactly hiding it; it’s written all over your face every time you look at her.”
I sigh, lifting my hand up to rub at my throbbing temples with my fingertips. “She doesn’t feel the same way about me.”
Both Valentine and Zeke burst into laughter.
“What?” I demand.
“That girl would be yours in a hot second if you just grew a big enough pair of balls to tell her how you feel,” Zeke says, between amused chuckles.
“She doesn’t want a Sinner or the Sinner way of life. She’s told us this over and over. I kissed her last night. If she felt anything for me, she wouldn’t still be saying yes to dates from all these assholes. Look at this fucking guy she’s dating; he couldn’t be any less Sinner if he tried. He rides a fucking Vespa for fuck’s sake. He doesn’t treat her right and she’s lapping that shit up, loving that he’s a fucking pussy and that she feels like an equal or some shit.”
“I explained a few things to her yesterday morning. I thought she understood things a bit clearer now,” Zeke says.
“What the fuck did you say to her?” I demand, my hand gripping Zeke’s shirt tightly.
“Calm down,” Valentine snaps, shocking me. “Emmy isn’t your average girl. You can’t treat her like she is or expect her to behave like she’s just the usual pussy wanting to hang off a Scion.”
“Don’t fucking call her pussy,” I growl.
“I didn’t,” He smirks. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Emmy is a Scion, The Scion, if you think about it. She’s the Prez’s kid and her dad is one scary motherfucker.”
“What’s your point?” Zeke asks, his head tilted to the side thoughtfully.
“She thinks she wants something different than Archer’s Creek and the family, but that’s just because she’s never known anything else. Let her experience what guys are like outside your world, let her experiment with that Kent kid; he’s harmless. But while that’s happening, show her what it’s like to belong to a Sinner too. Be her guy, treat her like the Sinners treat their women. Treat her like a woman, like a Scion, like Emmy deserves to be treated. I’d lay money on the fact that she wants you just as much as you want her, but right now home is the familiar and she wants new, so let her do her thing.” Valentine says with a shrug.
“I can’t let that pissant Kent touch her, I’ll fucking kill him,” I growl, my fingers curling into fists just thinking about his hands on her.
“So make sure she’s getting what she needs at home, then she won’t go looking for it elsewhere,” he says conspiratorially.
For a moment I mull over his words. She didn’t pull away when I kissed her; in fact, she kissed me back. Could Valentine be right? Could Emmy feel the same way about me as I do about her? Just the thought of watching her date someone else makes me feel violent and out of control, but maybe I could threaten Kent, warn him to keep his hands to himself? Then she could date him and I could be staking my claim behind the scenes. He might get her for a few hours, but I live with her, I have all the rest of her time.
My brother doesn’t have an old lady, but I’ve spent enough time around the club and my friend’s families to see how Sinners men treat their women. I’ve had girls. I’m hardly a fucking virgin, but I’ve always known that Emmy is the only woman I’ve ever wanted to own me, heart, body and soul. She’s had all of me since we were kids, she just doesn’t know it yet. Maybe the guys are right? Maybe it’s time to step up and stake my claim.
Standing, I pull my cell from my pocket and step away from the table, not bothering to look back at the others. I’m pretty sure they know what I’m about to do. My hands are shaking as I scroll through my contacts until I find the one I’m looking for, hitting dial before I can talk myself out of doing it.
“Griffin, you okay?” The deep, gravelly voice asks as he answers my call.
“Yeah, I’m fine, we’re all fine. But I need to talk to you about something.”
A low laugh reverberates through the line and my heart kicks up a notch, beating hard beneath my chest.
“I’m in love with your daughter. Have been pretty much since the day we met. I know I’m not fucking good enough for her, but I still want her. You gonna kill me if I try to make her mine?”
“Does she want you?” Prez asks.
“Honestly, I have no fucking clue, but she’s started dating this little prick and I can’t wait any longer. I’m gonna lose her for good if I don’t try to show her how I feel.”
“She’s dating?” He roars.
I flinch, knowing I probably shouldn’t have told him that, but Emmy’s dad scares the fucking shit out of me and my default setting when I’m around him is total fucking honestly. “Yep, she went out with him the other night and he asked her out again.”
“You know I can rip off your dick and balls, beat you to fucking death with them, then get rid of your body where no one will ever find you if you hurt my baby girl, right?”
“I know that. I love her,” I say simply.
“Good, bout fucking time you told her,” Prez says, humor dancing through his voice.
“You knew?” I ask, shocked.
“Kid, the only person who doesn’t know is my daughter. I’ve been waiting for this conversation for the last eight years. Took you fucking long enough.”
“Well, fuck.”
“Take care of her. I’ll see you when it’s parents’ weekend,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. Then he ends the call, leaving me staring at my cell in shock.
Turning back to the table, I lower myself back onto the bench, too stunned to really process what just happened.
“Prez gonna kill you?” Zeke asks.
I look up at him, surprised to see worry on his face and shake my head.
Valentine sniggers. “So, he knew too?”
I nod.
Zeke slaps his hand against my shoulder. “Come on, we need to get to class, then we need to figure out how to make peace with Emmy, so you at least stand a chance of showing her how you feel about her.
My anger follows me through the rest of my day and by the time I open the front door of the house I’m seething and thoroughly pissed off. The smell of Mexican food hits me as soon as I step into the house, followed immediately by Griffin’s familiar scent as he scoops me off the ground and holds me to his chest in a tight hug.
“We’re sorry,” he whispers against my ear. “We’re assholes and we’re really, really fucking sorry.”
I didn’t realize how much I needed his apology until I heard it, and some of my anger bleeds from me as I melt a little into his embrace.
“Forgive me. I hate it when you’re pissed with me. Please don’t be mad at me anymore. I haven’t had my snuggles in days and I was just pissy because I missed you,” he drawls into my neck, pulling me in even tighter.
/> With a sigh, I free my arms and wrap them around his back, hugging him. “You’re a dickweed,” I say against his chest.
“I know, but I’m your dickweed,” he whispers. “Will you come snuggle with me properly on the couch? We made you enchiladas just the way you like them and Zeke went and got you a gallon of that sweet tea you like so much.”
“I’m not sure you really deserve snuggles,” I goad him.
“Don’t say that, Em, never say that. I need them and you promised me.” His voice is almost desperate, frantic, and even though I’m annoyed with him and Zeke, I feel awful for suggesting I won’t give him the comfort I promised him I’d always be there to give him.
“I didn’t mean it. You know I’m always here for you, even when you’re behaving like an unmitigated asshole,” I say, gripping him a little tighter.
My feet leave the floor and Griffin carries me into the living room, sitting down on the couch and positioning me on his lap. His hold on me is a little too tight, like he’s afraid I’ll leave him, even though I’m snuggled into his chest the same way we’ve done a thousand times before. The way we were last night after he kissed me. My core heats at the memory and I wonder what he’d do if I kissed him.
Zeke slinks into the room, his eyes downcast, his expression repentant. “I’m sorry, Em. You know we would never laugh at you, ever. We shouldn’t have been jackasses about Kent either and I promise it won’t happen again. He’s not what we’re used to, but for you we’ll try to be better.”
I nod and he steps closer, pulling the hand from behind his back and revealing the clear plastic cup holding my favorite sweet tea. A small smile forms on my lips and I reach for the cup, taking it from his outstretched hand and bringing the straw to my lips.
“We made your favorite food and we’re taking you out tonight to apologize. It’s Karaoke night at the bar, so we’re all going, we thought you could see if Kent wanted to come too,” Zeke says, sitting down on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“And you’ll be nice?” I ask, my brows arched in question.
