Page 30 of Strelitzias in Spring

“C’mon, let’s go before Audrey tries to fire you.” In my head, I addagainbecause Aubrey’s favorite pastime is firing Trent and forcing him to make it up to her. It’s a weird game of foreplay, but it seems to work for their relationship. Who the fuck am I to judge? My only relationships have ended in breakups or her leaving me for another guy on my team.

I follow Trent through the side door and sit on the picnic bench while he lights up.

“So, where were you on Friday night?”

I clear my throat, surprised by the question. “I had Jedd’s promotional shit.”

He pulls in a drag from his cigarette and holds it in, releasing the smoke slowly so it wafts around him. Trent’s eyes are on me when he takes another long inhale. “And after?”

My jaw locks, and I debate how much I should tell him. “I had to help my cousin out. How did you know I did something after?”

“Aubs and I stopped by, figured you’d need some friends there since that viper and lug nut would be at the party. Jedd told us you went to help some girl.”

Some girl? Calling Serena a girl would be a disservice; she may be six years younger than me, but she has an eerie maturity, a wry sense of humor, and a face that deserves to be painted and hung in a fucking museum.

“C’s friend had a problem and needed someone to get her. It was no big deal,” I lie as a montage of our interactions plays in my head. I see her bare back and the bruises and scrapes on her body. The mental image of her abused form reignites the anger that had dulled to a simmer. “She got manhandled by some asshole at a party and closed herself in the bathroom. I checked to make sure she wasn’t harmed and brought her back to her place.”

Trent’s eyes narrow at my words. “Someone put his hands on this chick? Did you fuck him up?”

“Don’t call her a ‘chick.’ And no, she asked me to take her home, and I never got the chance to see him.”

“Fuck, McCleery, you should have beat his ass.”

“And traumatize a house full of college students and a woman who needed to get out of that shithole as quickly as possible? Nah, as much as I would have liked to beat his ass, her needing to leave was more important.” I don’t mention how I nearly broke down the fucking door to get inside because I was petrified of what I’d find in that bathroom. I also don’t mention how good her skin felt beneath my hands or how the feel of her lips lingered on my skin for a goddamn day.

“You’re going soft, you—oh, shit.” Trent drops his cigarette and stubs it out with his foot, grinding it down until the filter separates from the paper. I follow his line of sight and grimace as Celeste and her boyfriend approach the shop. Celeste doesn’t realize we’re out here until Dante nudges her arm and points in my direction.

“Why the hell are you outside? It’s like five degrees out here,” she yells from across the lot.

“Celeste, it’s forty degrees.”

“I am not talking to you outside in the arctic tundra, Wolf. We’ll meet you inside,” she says before disappearing into the shop.

“Man, let’s go inside before she tries to shank me,” Trent murmurs, shivering as he pulls his leather jacket closed. “She threatened to shove cigarettes down my throat if I kept smoking, and I’m scared she’s going to do it.”

“Fucking wimp. She’s five feet.”

“She’s terrifying,” he mutters over his shoulder as he opens the door and heads back into the warmth of the building. Instead of heading back to the drafting table where his work-in-progress sits, he waves hello to my cousin and power walks to his room like a fitness instructor from the eighties.

“I told you he was scared of you.” Aubrey laughs, following the path Trent took to his room.

Celeste shrugs off Aubrey’s words as though they don’t phase her. “It’s not my fault I have bigger balls than him.”

“Red, trust me, you don’t have balls. I would have seen them. Now, a pretty little—” Celeste covers his mouth before he can continue, and I’m grateful. I would have had to lay him out if he had said a single word about my cousin’s fucking anatomy.

“Dante Nicholas Camaro, watch your freaking mouth,” she scolds in a voice that is both annoyed and amused.

Dante mumbles against her hand, and I don’t even want to know what shit he’s saying. “Yeah, watch your fucking mouth, Camaro, or I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

“Hey, no threatening my boyfriend, Wolfie. Besides, people are starting to stare. Can both of you keep your voices down before they start filming?”

“I threaten him when he says stupid shit,” I grumble before surveying the floor. Celeste is right, and I take in the people staring at us like we’re performers giving a show. “Fine. C, fuckhead, let’s continue this in my room.” I turn on my heel and walk across the floor, waving at a few of the artists as I pass.

Once I step over the threshold of my private room, I go to my drawing table and sit, allowing the green wingback chairs to remain available for Celeste and Dante. Dante seems to realize my intent because he walks to the corner of the room and settles in one of the oversized chairs, eying me warily as Celeste paces across the hardwood.

“Why are you pacing, Red?” Dante asks. “You’re going to give me motion sickness if I have to keep whipping my head back and forth to look at your ass.”

“Watch it,” I growl at the same time that Celeste’s footsteps falter. She glares at her boyfriend, mumbling obscenities under her breath before turning back to me. “I’m pacing because I want to know everything that happened on Friday night, but I also want to thank you for going to make sure Serena was okay. I’m just trying to prioritize my thoughts so that I say and ask the right things.”

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