Page 104 of Brutal Prince

“Thought we’d go pay Addison a visit. Make sure she’s all right,” Briar says.

Puffs of smoke escape my mouth as I splutter out, “What?”

Briar gives me a strange smile. “You don’t want to check on your friend?”

“Of course. I mean, yeah. Obviously.” I nod a few times, and then wonder if I should get more stoned. Before I can come to a decision, Briar turns down another road and starts slowing. Ahead, a golf estate’s boom bars our way.

Oh, thank God. No way Addy would let us—

Briar leans across the car. I cringe away, thinking he’s gonna grab my leg, but instead he just pops open the glove compartment. He rummages around inside and comes out with a remote control. When he presses it, the boom lifts.

Fuck.

“That’s…convenient,” I say quietly, repositioning myself on the seat so I don’t look like I was trying to climb out the window.

“Dylan stays here.”

Course he does, whoever the fuck he is.

Briar drives to one of the units and parks outside. There are no cars in the drive, not even Addy’s little sports car.

“Guess she’s not home,” I quip, before stabbing a thumb over my shoulder. “At least we checked. Should probably get out of here before—”

Briar’s hand closes over my thigh. My skirt’s up to mid-thigh, and his hand easily fills the space between my knee and the hem of my skirt.

It’s warm, firm, so fucking big. When he speaks, I realize I was staring at his long fingers. “We should at least knock, right?”

I don’t turn to look at him, because I can see enough from the corner of my eyes. Plus, he’s so close, if I did turn, he could kiss me.

And my stupid brain keeps telling me that’s somehow a good fucking thing.

“Of course,” I manage, fumbling for the door handle.

“Cool.” His voice is so smooth, so calm and collected, I know he’s up to something. But I don’t know him well enough to even try and guess what the fuck his plan is here.

I follow him, glancing around to check if there’s anyone in sight as he leads me to the front door. How does he know where Addy stays? Then again, he did date her best friend. He probably picked her up from Addy’s house a few times.

The house is a modern, sprawling split level. Briar walks straight up to the front door and knocks, ignoring the buzzer beside the intricately carved paneling.

We wait for long moments, and I’m feeling more stoned by the second.

Addy never comes to answer the door.

“Maybe she had errands to run or something,” I say, taking a step back and hoping he will take it as our cue to leave.

“Yeah,” Briar murmurs, glancing around. “Maybe.”

When he turns, the morning sun catches on his hair, turning his sandy strands into sullen gold. He squints at me as he passes, and extends an arm.

I don’t move, not sure what he wants, and he ends up draping his arm over my shoulders. “Where’s that joint, Angel?”

That pet name sends an illicit tingle through me that I do my best to ignore. “Here?” I whisper back, glancing around. There’s an old lady watering her garden a few houses away.

“You paranoid? Fine, we’ll go check the back. Maybe they left the door open.”

I almost stop walking, but manage to catch myself in time. Briar takes the joint from me, lights it, and hits it hard as he maneuvers me down a side path of cobblestones heading to the back of Addy’s house.

“This shit’s good,” Briar says around the filter, looking down at me as he strokes his thumb down the side of my neck.

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