Vendetta (Blood for Blood #1)(27)

“None like you,” he laughed.

“Well, you need to get out more.”

“Clearly.”

I shut off the lights, punched in the alarm code, and locked up behind us, following him out into the torrential downpour.

No wonder I hadn’t seen Nic’s SUV earlier — it was parked all the way across the lot, where even the streetlights didn’t shine. We sprinted toward it, wobbling under the force of wind that threw buckets of rain across our faces. When we reached the car, I tumbled in, pulling against the storm to shut the door. I fell back against the cool leather seat, wrapping my arms around me while Nic started the engine. Without the added warmth of his hoodie, his teeth were chattering.

I spent the car ride directing him to my house and running my fingers through my hair so it wouldn’t frizz out too much in the humidity. I was just melting into the easy conversation between us, and the welcome feeling of dryness, when he pulled up outside my house.

“Thanks for the ride.” I tried not to sound too crestfallen that our time together had ended. I pushed the door open and it flung outward under the force of the wind.

“Sophie.” Nic leaned over and gripped my leg, holding the lower half of my body in the warmth of the car. “Wait.”

My heart flipped, and I worried he could hear how loudly it was suddenly beating. I tried not to breathe too quickly, or to stare at his hand on my knee. I looked at him and found him studying my arms, my waist, my — his hoodie.

“Oh.” I shook my hair out, scolding myself. “Your hoodie.”

I began to unzip it.

“No, it’s not that,” he replied quickly, keeping his hand on my knee. “You can give it back to me some other time.”

I dropped my hands into my lap and waited, my breath bound up in the base of my throat. I could see he was steeling himself for something else. My brain began to flash with a thousand possibilities and suddenly my heart was ricocheting off my rib cage like it was trying to punch through it.

He inhaled sharply, his expression suddenly uncertain. “The switchblade,” he said quietly. “Can I have it back?”

My face fell, and something inside me — it felt a lot like hope — shriveled up and died. I reached into my bag and pulled out the knife, dropping it into his outstretched hand in one hurried movement. “Of course. I forgot.”

His fist closed around it and a flicker of relief passed over his features, relaxing them. “Thank you.”

“I guess it’s for the best. You know, me walking around with a knife isn’t exactly a good idea. I’d probably fall on it or something.” The words tumbled out in unbidden, high-pitched sentences, trying to distract from the awkwardness I was feeling. “I’d probably end up killing myself or something, and I can definitely think of less embarrassing ways to die.” Could you be any more inappropriate? I winced right after I said it and then hopped out of the car before I could put my other foot in my mouth. “Thanks again for everything.”

“Sophie?” Nic leaned across the passenger seat, his expression serious. “Will you do something for me?”

“What?”

“Don’t be thinking of ways to die.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

He pulled back with a small, controlled smile, and I shut the door.

I stood in the rain, watching the car until it disappeared around the end of the street. Then I thought about the boy with the bruised hand and the inscribed switchblade who had just broken into my father’s diner, and found myself wondering why the hell I was feeling so sad to see him go.





There was really only one thing to do with Nic’s hoodie.

“This is perfect,” Millie said when I called her the following morning to tell her about everything. “Use it as an excuse to go to his house and invite him to the party on Saturday!”

Because of the fight with Alex, Millie wasn’t Nic’s biggest fan, but she wasn’t a grudge holder, either, and given that “boys will be boys,” she resolved that she could certainly “see potential” in him and that he should still be invited to her house party. I had a pretty good idea of how Alex would react to Nic turning up, but Millie was adamant. Alex didn’t get to veto her guests. Especially since she had so few compared to him.

Besides, she took great interest in my pitiful romantic life, and since Nic was new to Cedar Hill and obviously in the dark about my father’s recent past, she saw him as a rare judgment-free opportunity for me to fall in love. Whether he might be bad for me or not didn’t weigh into it. It only made her more curious about him and his family, especially considering that Dom had asked her out right after the basketball tournament.

“I’m meeting Dom at six for our date, so try to call me later tonight if you find out anything juicy,” she squealed over the phone. “And don’t forget to take pictures if you make it inside that house. You owe it to me. I’m too young to die from curiosity.”

I decided not to tell Millie that I would not be creepily taking pictures of Nic’s house without his knowledge. The idea of inviting him to a party was already terrifying enough. What if he said no? What if he said yes and then found out about my social-pariah status when he got there? “Only if you find out about Dom’s scar,” I countered instead.