Page 36 of Turmoil (Elite of Elmwood 1)

“Pink, huh?” He tugged a strand of my hair. “I should have guessed. It fits you, new girl.”

Fynn unfortunately did in fact have to bear witness to Micah’s ass, which he proudly paraded around the room. I never met anyone who was so damn comfortable naked before, especially with a crowd, but I had to admit, Micah was impressive in all departments.

I wasn’t a nun.

Of course I looked.

My head rested on Micah’s shoulder, who’d begrudgingly tossed his pants back on, but no shirt. I had to text Ains and Mads. Later. When my head stopped spinning. They were going to freak out. Phase one of our plan was in motion. It had been completely accidental, but I didn’t think either of them would care. The outcome was better than we could have hoped for. Not only did I cross paths with Brock (throwing myself in front of his car totally had to count), I was inside the house, hanging out with the Elite.

Who was I?

Sure, I wasn’t supposed to put myself in danger, and almost getting run over definitely constituted as dangerous, but it had been worth it.

I snuggled against Micah, letting out a yawn, the night finally catching up to me. From across the room, my eyes got hung up on Brock’s. He was watching me, a frown on his lips. I didn’t look away but stared back at him. Despite the seriousness of his expression, heat burned in the center of his breathtaking aqua eyes. I all but felt myself go up in flames from the intensity of them. I might have been curled up next to the playboy, but it was the bad boy I wanted. A shiver went through me, and the corner of Brock’s mouth lifted. He knew exactly what my body was feeling.

What would he do if I wandered over and climbed into his lap?

Would he discard me as he had Ava?

The thought was mortifying and enough to keep my ass planted on the couch.

I lost track of how long we watched each other, but eventually, my eyes became too heavy to keep open, and I let them drift shut, not caring that I was half-dressed. My body relaxed into the couch as I listened to the lingering group laugh and bullshit, but it was Brock’s magnetic eyes that followed me into my dreams.

* * *

I woke up to a dark, silent room—an unfamiliar room. My head was throbbing, but it was the least of my immediate concerns. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rolled over in the bed, unsure if I would find someone else besides me. A rush of air expelled from my lungs. I was alone, thank God.But where the hell am I? What time is it? And where the fuck is my shirt?

Digging my phone out of my pocket, I checked the time and groaned at the number of missed calls and texts. It was all too fresh a reminder of the mess that waited for me at home.

I swung my legs over the bed, taking stock of the room. The blackout blinds were closed, explaining the utter darkness despite it being ten in the morning. It was a stunning room with vaulted ceilings, exposed wood beams, and a king-size bed. A lantern-style light fitting hung in the center of the ceiling, and nestled under the three large windows was a sitting area. The room was so inviting.

I was tempted to curl up and go back to bed, but my damn phone buzzed. Another text from my mother.

“Shit,” I mumbled, raking my fingers through my hair. I searched the ground for my shirt and shoes. When I couldn’t immediately find them, I flipped on a light. “Shit,” I swore again, not seeing either of them in the room. Looked like I would be sneaking out shirtless and barefoot. That should make an interesting trip home.

Of course, I could just borrow a shirt from Brock, a thought that I found too appealing.

Then I needed to figure out how I was getting home.

I mentally flipped through my options. I could call Angie. Hell, no. I could text Ainsley. I could walk. Or request an Uber.

Damn bourbon. Never again.

Quickly rummaging through the dresser for a shirt, I grabbed the first one I found and tugged it over my head. I straightened the bed (because in good conscience I couldn’t leave it a mess) and made use of the attached bathroom before peeking out into the long hallway. A new problem arose.Son of a bitch.I stood in the hall, looking left and right.I have no idea which way to go.

I found a flight of winding stairs and tiptoed down, praying I wouldn’t run into anyone, particularly Brock’s parents. I did remember he’d said they were out of town, but for how long? For all I knew, they could be due back any second. Come to think of it, I doubted seeing a girl sneak out of their house would be a shock.

Once on the main floor, it wasn’t so difficult to weave my way toward the front of the house. I passed by the room where we had played cards, and lo and behold, strewn inside a potted palm was my shirt. I wasn’t even going to question how it got there. As I slipped the borrowed shirt over my head and reached for mine, a husky chuckle sounded behind me, sending goose bumps over my exposed skin. I whirled around, knowing it was Brock.

Leaning against the wall in a pair of dark gray sweats and an Academy football T-shirt that hugged his chest, his dark hair was messy in a way that made me itch to run my fingers through it. “Not going to lie, Firefly. I like you better without it.”

Rolling my eyes, I slipped the shirt over my head and pulled it down past my pink bra. I shook out my hair. “And I liked you better before I knew your name.”

He put a hand to his heart in a mock wounded gesture as he walked toward me. “Ouch.” His eyes locked on mine. “Were you thinking of leaving without saying goodbye?”

I shoved my hands into my pockets before I did something reckless. Those lusty feelings I wanted to blame on the alcohol were coming back. And they were stronger than ever. “It crossed my mind,” I admitted. “I need to get home before my mom calls in the National Guard.”

“Come on. I’ll give you a lift.” His voice brushed against the back of my neck as he moved to open the front door.

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