Page 130 of Stolen Summer

“Quinn!” Cole hooted, moving toward me, and the next thing I knew, he was lifting me off my feet, spinning me around. He gave me his signature killer smile, happiness twinkling in his eyes. “You’re here.”

I got a whiff of booze. Okay, it was more than a whiff. “Cole, are you drunk?”

“It’s a party, Quinn.”

He had a point. I’d just never seen him like this. Not this drunk. Something was wrong.

With my feet dangling in the air, I glanced at Crew. He scoffed, a deep scowl carving on his lips, and started to move away. I squirmed in Cole’s grasp, hoping he would get the hint and put me down.

He didn’t.

“Crew!” I called after him.

He halted, eyes like granite glancing at me with such disdain I recoiled. He was pissed, and my confidence was knocked down a peg.

“Don’t leave.”

Crew said nothing, only stared at me as if were the cause of all his misery. He started to turn away.

“Crew.” I tried again. “Please stay. I want to talk to you,” I pleaded as Cole jostled me around. I lost sight of Crew, my hair like a screen in front of my face. “Cole, put me the fuck down,” I hissed, my fingers pressing into his broad-ass shoulders. Cole finally got a clue, lowering me down his chest.

By the time my feet touched the ground, Crew was gone.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, lifting on my toes to see if I could spot him among the crowd.

“Are you mad?” Cole asked, wobbling slightly on his feet. I was half afraid if I left him alone, he would stumble into the fire.

Guilt stabbed me, and I whirled toward Cole, frustration evident in my features. “Yes and no. It’s conflicting. I’m not upset with you but myself. I need to find your brother.”

A sloppy yet still flirtatious smile lifted his lips. “About damn time, Quinn. Finally came to your senses, I see.”

“I just hope I’m not too late.”

“Shit,” he cursed, his slightly glazed gaze moving over my head as if he just noticed his brother was gone and it sobered him some. “I’d suggest you go after him before he gets to his car.”

“He left?” Dread coated my words.

Cole nodded, a sadness to his expression. “It’s Crew. Did you think he was going to stick around?”

Torn between wanting to ask Cole what was wrong and running after Crew, I glanced toward the side of the house. “For once, I hoped he would. For me.”

I heard the rumble of an engine roar to life. If I’d been inside, the music and chatter would have drowned the sound, but in the backyard, it echoed through the trees.

“Go,” Cole urged, his hands pushing at the small of my back with slight encouragement. “I’ll be fine.”

Giving Cole one last glance, I turned and dashed off, weaving through the patio to the side of the house. It would be quicker than going through the party. My heart accelerated in my chest, and I picked up my pace, sprinting to the front, nearly tripping on some asshole puking a gallon of alcohol into the bushes.

I didn’t stop but went to the street, desperately searching through a sea of vehicles, looking for the Crew’s steel-gray Porsche.

Come on, where are you? Don’t do this to me.

Of course, he would make me chase him down. This was Crew.

My boots slapped on the concrete as I raced down the road, my pulse hammering in my veins and adrenaline pumping. The streetlights flickered and hummed above my head, and a string of worry grew in my stomach. Am I too late? Did he leave? If I call him, will he turn around?

And then my heart stuttered as I spotted a pair of headlights beaming ahead. They were pulling onto the road and about to drive right past me. I couldn’t let that happen.

The car started to roll forward, engine purring, and I jumped into its path. I couldn’t see through the windshield, not with the headlights blaring into my eyes. This was probably a stupid idea, but it was the first thing that popped into my head.

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