Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(91)

She nods, picking up my phone only to toss it to the side. “Have you guys talked?”

“Nope. He played the part at school all week, as you saw, but as soon as eyes were away his hands were too. I’m leaving it alone.”

“You think he’s talked to Mallory again?”

I shrug, moving to the closet to grab my shoes. “I can’t see him reaching out after he gave her what she wanted and she bailed, but her... I’m not so sure about.”

“Yeah, me either.”

I sit down, glancing up to find her frowning.

“What?”

Her lips purse a moment, and then she sits up. “If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?”

I hold her eyes a moment and then bend to zip up the side of my leopard print boots. I stand, adjusting the shoulders of my top, letting one side hang. “I’m done hiding, Raven. You can ask me whatever you want, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

“I keep going back to why Mallory would stop to talk to you at all, to trust a stranger of a girl she saw with her ex to relay any kind of message.”

I meet her gaze.

“A stranger wouldn’t do that, would they?” she asks.

“No,” I answer instantly. “A stranger wouldn’t.”

Before she can say anything else, Maddoc walks in.

He glares around the room, his eyes lifting to the chandelier. “For real?”

I chuckle, I knew that thing had to have been added for me after Maddoc moved out of this room.

Raven looks up laughing and then drops onto her back on my bed. “That would have been fun.”

Royce is suddenly inside, too, and throws himself right beside her. “Oh, yeah.” He grins. “With the right reflection, proper positioning.” He spreads his hands out. “That’s like twenty ass cheeks, at least.”

She laughs, letting Maddoc tug her up, and right as Captain appears, leaning against the doorframe.

His eyes bounce across the room, landing on me. “Ready?”

I nod, turning away to grab my phone off the charger, frowning at the long strand of hair that falls over my shoulder, into my face.

I should have put it up.

Hid it.

I should cut and dye it.

I must delay too long because suddenly I’m barricaded between strong shoulders and Cap’s hands land on mine.

He pulls one behind me, helping me tuck my phone into my back pocket, and laces his fingers through the other.

I turn my head as he lifts our clasped hands to his mouth, running his lips across our knuckles, only to let go.

Royce’s arms are around us both in the next second. “Glad the class is getting along and all, but uh, baby girl’s asleep, the concert starts in an hour, and we’re all still sober. It’s a damn shame, really.”

“Fuck you guys, are you really getting drunk?” Raven asks.

I scoff, rolling my eyes as I walk toward the bedroom door. “Please, like your man would allow himself to be anything but stone-cold sober at a concert with his pregnant wife.”

“She’s gettin’ it.” Maddoc eyes me as he passes us by, waiting for us to follow.

She laughs, shoving me to the side and stepping out before me. “True dat.”

My eyes travel over her as she descends the stairs ahead of me.

About six months pregnant, and you’d never know by staring at the back of her.

She’s trim and hourglass-shaped, still wearing her own low-rise jeans and Timberlands. Her black tank top almost blends with her long, sleek black hair. If it wasn’t for the deep purple tips and streaks it would.

She looks over her shoulder, her gray eyes shining and popping against the heavy liner on her lids. “Seems he’s in a touchy mood tonight, huh, Vee.” She winks.

“Raven.”

She laughs, facing forward again. “My hands are on the railing, Big Man, and you’re right in front of me. I’m good.”

I chuckle and Maddoc groans.

Within an hour we’re walking into the arena.

Of course, they got a suite with private security and table service, and no one asks for proof of ID.

The waitress comes back as quickly as she left, and with a tray full of shit. Royce grabs the hand of a girl right behind her, pulling her inside with us as if he ordered her from the menu, too, but then Mac and Chloe, and a few others I recognize from school enter right behind them.

I glance around at the newcomers, seeing a girl for each guy who’s entered.

Royce catches my eye and he winks. “I got you, VicVee.”

I chuckle, shifting in my seat.

Captain leans against the black box railing, drink hanging from his fingers, eyes on me.

I didn’t get a chance to fully look him over earlier, and I’m glad because this exact position, posture, and lighting and all make for a hell of a fantasy.

His sandy blond hair is perfectly swept, but not in a preppy boy way, more tycoon, dark and dirty business-like.

Black on black, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, tattooed knuckles screaming at me as he lifts the amber liquid to his lips, leaving nothing but ice in the bottom of his glass.

I push to my feet, and his smirk slowly grows, but then the crowd goes wild, the last opening act stepping off the stage, having just announced it’s time to get the party rolling.