Page 112 of Victorious: Part I

Suddenly, I spot a small black shape watching from atop one of the slides—Dracula, sentinel of the forgotten park.

“Look,” I say, pointing. “He came to say goodbye.”

Phoenix follows my gaze, then shakes his head with a small smile. “Weird little stalker.”

“I’m gonna miss him.”

“Seriously? That cat cockblocked me so hard last night,” he mutters, then freezes, clearly not having meant to say that aloud.

I burst into laughter, the tension broken by his unexpected candor. “Did you just say ‘cockblocked?’ What are you, sixteen?”

His face flushes, but he’s laughing too. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

“I do,” I admit, still smiling. “And for the record, I was thinking the same thing.”

Our eyes meet briefly, and there it is again—that current of awareness, of possibility. But this time, there’s an understanding, maybe. That whatever this is between us, we’re both feeling it.

Both wanting it.

Both knowing we shouldn’t.

Phoenix returns his attention to the mechanic working on the truck, but I catch the small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “You think we should check in with the club before we hit the road? I’m sure Mav is worried about you, seeing as we’re out of service and have been for hours now?” he asks.

Widening my eyes, I let out a small chuckle. “I thought the satellite phone was only for emergencies?”

He groans, shaking his head but still smiling at me. “You wanna call your brother or not?”

Bouncing happily, I clap my hands in excitement. “Yes, please!”

Phoenix chuckles, pulling the sat phone out of his pocket. “You arefartoo happy for this time of the morning and for our current situation,” he states, placing the phone in my hand.

Shrugging, I begin dialing Maverick’s cell number. “Or maybe you’re just far too cynical, and you need to lighten the hell up.”

The phone begins to ring on the other end as Phoenix replies, “Don’t tell Maverick about the cat cockblocking me.”

I widen my eyes. “Oh, no, he didn’t say cockblocking, Mav, he said—”

Phoenix’s face turns pale white as he stares at me, and I burst into a fit of laughing as the phone continues to ring on the other end. “He hasn’t picked up yet, you’re safe.”

Phoenix lets out a relieved exhale. “Jesus Christ, way to give me a heart attack, woman.”

I giggle but furrow my brows, still waiting for Maverick to answer his cell when it goes to his voicemail. “Huh,” I murmur, ending the call.

Phoenix looks at me in confusion. “He didn’t answer?”

“No, went to voicemail,” I mumble, concern starting to seep through my veins.

Phoenix shrugs it off. “He probably just didn’t get to it in time. Try again.”

Nodding, I smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” So, I dial once more and sit listening to my brother’s unanswered phone ringing through to voicemail again.

My foot begins to tap anxiously as I turn to Phoenix, biting down on my bottom lip. He takes the phone from me and starts dialing another number without saying a single word. But the tension between us is the highest it has been since we started this trip.

He puts the phone to his ear, waiting for someone to answer as I glance out at the mechanic still working on our truck.

I turn back to him, his nostrils flaring as he clenches his eyes shut tight.

“Phoenix?” I whisper, but he doesn’t reply. He just pulls the phone from his ear, then dials the same number again, putting it back up to his ear and waiting for someone to answer.

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