Page 14 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

I yanked my seatbelt into place. “Drive,” I gritted out, lacing my fingers together to keep from reaching for her. To remind her and maybe myself that we were still alive. We’d made it for five years, just by putting one foot in front of the other.

The sun always came out eventually. Tomorrow or next week or next month. Bravery was hanging on long enough to see it.

“You’re not going to tell me where to go?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t study the map.” I glanced around the front seat, finally noticing it was tucked under her thigh on her seat. “Uh huh, you sure did. And I remember you could find your way out of the woods without even a handful of breadcrumbs, so I bet you have those first turns memorized.”

“I remember you were shit with directions.”

“You were supposed to have forgotten that.”

Again, that giggle. Low and soft and a little rusty, as if she rarely let loose anymore. I wondered if that was true in more ways than one.

In the months since she’d joined the crew, I’d rarely seen her make appearances at the afterparties. Of course before tonight, she’d never shown up in the cage on stage either. First time for everything. And when I had seen her at a party, she was always sipping ice water or soda, not anything harder.

Maybe she’d changed. For her sake, I hope she had. It was too dangerous to use substances to escape. To have a good time, okay, fine. But to avoid living your life? Hello, asking for trouble.

I should know.

She didn’t reply, and I didn’t force it. Traffic was definitely slower this time of night, but in the city, it never truly stopped. She seemed to be concentrating on the road, so I let her do her thing.

We’d probably get there faster with her at the wheel than if I was driving anyway.

“You don’t have anyone waiting on you?”

Her gaze veered toward me just long enough for someone to lay on the horn behind us when she hesitated at a yellow light. She scrunched up her shoulders and gassed it, making me growl. Her lips twitched and she eased up a little.

“No. No one waiting on me but Ever.”

“Oh, Jesus, you live together? There’s trouble squared.”

She smiled fully, although it was gone too soon. “See, that’s the kind of thing I miss. It’s nice to be known. To have in jokes and shared experiences.”

“You don’t have anyone like that now?”

“Not really.”

“Surely you must have someone who—”

“If you want to know if I have a boyfriend, just ask.”

I didn’t.

She signaled around a hulking delivery truck moving at the speed of a turtle and sighed. “I like being on the road because dating isn’t really a thing. No one knows you’re not seeing someone, because we’re in different cities every week. But eventually, the tour ends.”

“Tell me about it.”

She pursed her lips, the red wash of lights from the car stopping ahead of us playing over her far too beautiful face. As a teen, she’d been cheerleader cute. As a woman, she was stunning, with an intelligence and sense of perception in her eyes that made me uneasy. I didn’t want her figuring me out. I hadn’t managed it yet, so I damn sure didn’t want her to get there first.

“What about you? Y

ou have a girl?”

“I’ve had many girls.” The flippant answer was one I’d give to a music journalist. Good for a soundbite without saying much.

The wild rocker image was a pair of leather pants I put on easily. Sometimes it wasn’t even an act. I could party as hard as just about anyone.

And crash even harder when I was alone.

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