Page 67 of No More Secrets

“I’m not going to drive. I’m going to bed.” To sleep off the alcohol so he can go after her in the morning.

She drops his keys in his palm, and he stomps up the stairs. It isn’t until he reaches his door that he’s aware she followed him up to his apartment.

30

Beck guns the van, and Shiloh watches Lucas out the back window. When she can no longer see him, she turns forward and stares straight ahead. He left her to fend for herself and brought back the very woman she’s running from. Is he helping Zea bring her in to the police? Goes to show she can’t trust anyone.

Except Finn. He finally came through for her.

She looks at the guy sitting beside her. He’s taller and skinnier than he seemed on video. Hotter, too. His hair is finger-combed off his face. A short, scruffy beard covers his jaw, circles his mouth. His eyes glitter in the dark, reflecting the dashboard lights, the dark pupil large enough for her to drown in. She’s been crushing hard on him for months, and he’s finally here.

Nerves quiver in her stomach. They have a lot to talk about, but she kind of wants to know what it would be like to kiss him.

He throws his arm over the seat back, turning to look out the rear window, which brings him closer to her. She can smell his cologne, and butterflies tickle her stomach. His black shirt with the name of a band she’s never heard of stretches tight across his torso. “Shit, that guy was whacked.”

Then he shifts, pulling up a leg so that he fully faces her. He grins, teeth flashing, eyes crinkling in the corners like candy wrappers until his mouth softens into a bemused smile. Those glittery eyes move over her, soaking her in from head to toe.

“Shy Girl, in the flesh.” Exactly what she was thinking about him.

She smiles and dips her chin, feeling shy. She pokes his thigh. “Hi.”

He laughs and taps her nose. “You’re cute.” He cocks his head. “You look younger than I thought.”

Dread swells. She fears he’ll discover the truth before they’ve left the city limits. “It’s the dark.” She picks at an invisible speck of dirt on her jeans.

“Must be,” he murmurs. His hand cups her jaw, coaxing her face up. His palm is warm on her skin, his fingertips calloused from playing his instrument. His thumb caresses the swell of her cheek. “Still fucking gorgeous.”

Her heart thuds at the compliment, but before she can fully appreciate his words, he’s on her. His lips land on hers, his tongue invading her mouth, trapping a gasp in her throat. The coarse bristles of his beard scratch her chin, a sensation she doesn’t enjoy. It reminds her of Ellis.

His fingers touch her jaw, skim down her neck, and graze her breast. Alarm sends her butterflies into a frenzy. She pushes his shoulders.

“What?” He lifts his head with a lazy half smile, the same one that made her heart thump with anticipation when they’d videochat. Tonight she only feels doubt and confusion and nerves. One minute she has a job and a place to sleep. Next minute Lucas bails, and she’s running before Ellis can catch up to her. Everything’s happening too fast.

Her gaze slides to the back of Beck’s head. “Not here.”

“Ah. My bad. I got carried away.”

He’s under the impression she wants privacy when she’s nervous and inexperienced.

“You just smell so good.” He buries his face in her neck and sucks on her skin.

She smells like Lucas’s sandalwood soap. And she might be fifteen, but Finn’s not going to give her a hickey. She pushes him away, and he chuckles, shifting so that he faces front. He drapes his arm over her shoulders and pulls her into his side. His nearness makes her uneasy,but she doesn’t move or he’ll think she’s being difficult. Then he won’t let her live at his place.

“Beck,” Finn says to the driver. “Shiloh. Shiloh, Beck. This guy”—he slaps Beck’s shoulder—“is the best front singer you’ll ever hear. The dude’s got pipes.”

Beck catches her gaze in the rearview mirror. Just around his eyes alone, he looks older than Finn. “Nice to finally meet you. Finn hasn’t shut up about you.”

“Hi,” is all she can manage. She didn’t realize she’d be so out of her element. These guys are way out of her league. And she almost, almost asks Beck to pull over and let her out. But she needs to put as many miles between her and Ellis as she can.

Beck lights a joint and takes a hit. He passes it to Finn, who inhales deeply, holding in the smoke for a couple of beats before exhaling long and steadily. He holds it out for Shiloh. She shakes her head. The smell makes her ill and reminds her of Ellis. He owns a vape and smoke shop and always smells like weed.

“Suit yourself,” Finn says, taking another hit.

They settle in for the drive back to Hollywood. Beck asks Shiloh a few questions about why she left New Mexico. She doesn’t go into the messy business of Ellis and her mom, and Finn sums it up with a “Her home was shit, dude. Drop it.” For the rest of the trip, Shiloh is pretty quiet, listening while Finn and Beck hash out their favorite gigs as they finish the joint and light another. She thinks of Lucas, disappointed and sad he betrayed her, missing the safety she felt being with him, however fleeting. And for a heartbeat, she worries Ivy and Lucas will report her for stealing. But that thought doesn’t stick around for long because by the time they reach the strip, Shiloh is as relaxed as a wet noodle from secondhand smoke and can’t think much about anything. Beck parks in a loading zone in front of single windowless building painted in matte black. Band posters cover the front. Behind a roped off section, people line up, angling to get inside.

She grabs his wrist when he throws open the van’s side door. “I thought we were going to your apartment.”

“Later, Shy. We want to catch Mulvey’s last set.”

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