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“Call him after you’ve had a shower!” Vaughn shouted after me, bossy as usual.
I ignored him, taking out my phone to call Fang’s number. He didn’t answer, but it did go straight to his voicemail. Disappointment hit me. I really wanted to hear his voice. I knew he was busy with his club stuff, but I missed him. “Hey, handsome. It’s just me. I know you have a lot going on right now, but I was kinda hoping you would be here today. It’s my mom’s funeral, in case you forgot. At the church in Providence. Anyway… I hope you can come. I love you.”
Vaughn glared at me from the doorway.
I glared back. “Is that look of anger because I just told another man I love him or because I’m not in the shower?”
He sighed, dropping my things. He crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. “I love you, okay? Let’s just go get this over and done with. We can make up later.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you cruising for make-up sex?”
He chuckled. “Or maybe a make-up threesome. Kian is probably mad too, you know.”
I kissed his lips. “Mmm-hmm. Nice try. See you downstairs in ten.”
“Five, Roach.”
I shoved him toward the door. “They aren’t going to start without us. Get out of here.”
I was vaguely worried they would though. I threw myself into the shower, rubbed my underarms with some soap, and jumped straight back out. I had zero time for hair or makeup, however, it fell would have to do. In my closet, I threw on a short black skirt, a black Guns N’ Roses T-shirt, and classed it up with a cropped black blazer. My black Doc Martens completed the look.
Kian banged on the door. “Move it! Gotta go!”
I stepped out of the closet, and his eyes went wide. “You are so fuckable in that skirt. Please tell me you aren’t wearing panties.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s a funeral, Kian. Of course, I am.” Then I grinned at him. “Black ones, to match the theme of the day.”
His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I don’t care. Take them off.”
My core gave a happy throb, and damn if I didn’t find myself reaching below my skirt and hooking my fingers in my panties to pull them down my legs.
He grinned at me. “Better. Now let’s go.”
I followed him downstairs, where Vaughn was already waiting for us in the car.
“Rebel isn’t wearing panties,” Kian announced as we both piled into Bart’s Mercedes.
Vaughn whipped his head around so fast he probably gave himself whiplash. “Are you serious?”
I lifted my skirt and flashed him.
They both groaned.
I laughed. “This is so inappropriate. My mom would have loved it.”
She’d always been up for fun and mischief. That was what I wanted to focus on today. Celebrating her life, the way she would have wanted it.
It wasn’t far to the church at Providence, and there were people already milling around in the parking lot, waiting for the service to begin. Most were men in business suits with smartly dressed wives on their arms. Acquaintances of Vaughn’s dad, I assumed, because I was pretty sure they didn’t run in the same circles as Miranda. Vaughn’s mom waved from where she stood talking to her husband and another man I didn’t recognize, but whoever it was noticed Vaughn and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Who’s that?” I asked him.
“Harold Coker. My father’s business partner. The one who told me I needed to stay married to Brooke and put on a show like he and his friends do with their trophy wives. Fuck that old bastard,” he muttered. “I’m not playing his games. Not today.” He glanced over at Kian and picked up his hand, threading his fingers in between.
I smiled at the little frown on Harold’s face when he noticed. So satisfying.
Vaughn caught me next and dragged me in close. “Where are you going?”
“Putting on a show, are we?” I asked.