Page 45

The weight of everything settles over us. Tiller leans in, his mouth at my ear. “I’m more than your friend. I’ve always been more.”
I sigh when he pulls back, settling in the passenger seat, his breathing still heavy. “If I’m more than a friend, come to Alexandra’s wedding with me?”
He takes his cigarettes back and pulls one from the pack. My heart flutters as his lips part. “That stuck-up bitch is getting married?”
“I know, right?” We both chuckle, and his brown eyes weighing on mine, devastating and beautiful. “But yes, next weekend.”
With his eyes heavy on mine, he doesn’t hesitate to ask, “Did you invite Cody?”
I’ve seen love in Tiller’s eyes for years, though he’llneversay it; it’s the possessiveness and instinct to protect that’s stronger. He pretends, withholds, but it’s him who tumbles through my mind, and with the way he makes my heart race, you’d think I was being chased. I am.
“Stop it with him.” I rip the cigarette from his mouth. “I only went because he wanted to take me out. When have you ever asked a girl on a date?”
“I don’t have to. They usually only want dick from me.”
At least he’s honest. “Exactly.”
“All but one,” he adds quietly, smirking.
Is he serious? Look at him? Could he be? I bet if I asked him to be my boyfriend, he’d laugh in my face. Kind of like I did when we were kids and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I said no at the time, but keep in mind he was a holy terror as a child and scared me. That’s before I got to know the devil inside him and realized he wasn’t all bad.
What if we could be more? What if. . . he was in River’s life?
I don’t have a plan, but I ask, without thinking, “Okay, I’ll agree to more, slowly, if you go with me to Alexandra’s wedding.” And then I add with a smile, “As my boyfriend.”
Immediately he rolls his eyes, groaning and flopping his head back against the headrest. “Why do you have to put a title on it?”
“Because I’ve never had a boyfriend before, thanks to you.”
Ignoring my ultimatum, he motions to the street. “Let’s go get my bike.”
I take the keys from the ignition and he removes his hand from my thigh. “Not until you give me an answer. And mean it.”
His eyes are challenging. He waits for me to back down. “Fuck. Fine. I’ll go.”
With a grin, I place the keys in the ignition. “By the way, impound’s closed for the night.”
“What the fuck? Why?”
“Tiller, it’s midnight.”
“You knew that, didn’t you?”
I nod, feeling quite proud of how this ended. “Maybe.”
Do you see that guy perched on his dirt bike waiting for his run? The only one with the “fuck you” look plastered across his face?
That’s me.
Do you think I’m thrilled to be here?
You better have said no.
My mood’s all over the place. I’m restless, my days bleeding from one to the next. This last week has been a nightmare. Not only did I have a ton of media shit to do, and the restaurant owner of North Italia throwing a fit, I agreed to go to a wedding. What the fuck was I thinking? I can’t believe I agreed to go to a fucking wedding, but most of all, above all else, why am I still on this tour?
It’s now round four. Only six more to go. We’re on the streets of Pasadena where I grew up, and though I enjoy this city, the sobering truth is there’s only one thing capturing my interest. I’m only thinking of Amberly. She’s here, with River, at the Jett Industries trailer, talking to customers and selling products. I’m kicking myself because guess who got her that job?
Me. Probably to torture myself.