Page 35 of You Had Me At Thirteen

Hormones, please go fuck off for once. Thank you.

Wren groans, breathing heavy out his nose. His grip on the door handle tightens before he slams the door shut. ‘Fuck. Fine. But there’s no going back.’

I sink further into the seat, if that’s even possible, a smile on my face for getting my own way. For months I’ve watched Wren leave, and now I’m going to find out where he goes. My body buzzes with nervous excitement. But, what does he meanthere’s no going back?

Wren switches on the radio, the music quiet as he reverses out of the driveway, keeping his eyes on the road. Not once does he speak to me.

After around ten minutes, we turn down a dirt road, coming up to what looks like an abandoned warehouse. I’ve heard about this place, but never seen it. It’s smack bang right out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

As we drive further down the road, dust settling on the windows, the car’s headlights zero in on the dozens of cars parked by the faded red building, the gravel crunching under the car’s tyres as we slow to find a carpark.

This place gives me serious murder-house vibes. What am I getting myself into?

Wren pulls into a spot and shuts off the car before grabbing his bag from the back. ‘Let’s go,’ he says, as he climbs his long legs out of the car.

Without thinking, I scramble after him towards the front of the warehouse, where he knocks on the door. A set of dark brown eyes peer through the small slit in the door before it slides open with a heavy thud when it hits its limit.

Wren ushers me in, placing his hand on my lower back, burning my skin through the thin cotton of my shirt. As my gaze flicks around the empty building, the old stale air makes my nose itchy. Old camp style lights hang on the walls, making it visible enough to see where you’re going, but that’s about it.

Wren grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze before he leads me down some stairs. I’m too scared to touch the walls, fearing something sinister could be lurking, like a spider. Or worse. Although, what’s worse than spiders?

Coming to the bottom of three flights, a long hallway, and more rusty old lights, we get closer to the end, where the bass of loud music thumps through the walls, almost shaking them into oblivion.

What the hell is this place?

Maybe it’s some sort of sex club? Swingers club? Jesus, I’m not into that type of kinky shit.

I contemplate making a run for it until Wren lets go of my hand and pushes through the large double doors into a crowd of people. Some turn and grin at him, slapping him on the back, but mostly it’s just women eye-fucking the shit out of him.

He nods as we weave our way through the crowd, shaking hands with random strangers every now and again.

My ears are bombarded with some sort of house music, making me want to pierce my eardrums, but I hold on to Wren’s hand for fear I’ll get lost in this mosh-pit.

It’s when we get further in, I notice the floor drops in the middle. A massive fighting cage sits in the centre of the room, large industrial lights hanging from the ceiling.

Wren glances over his shoulder, his eyes finding mine when he feels me dragging my feet. His smile is soft, telling me I’m safe with him as he continues to drag me towards one side. When we hit the far wall, where it’s less crowded, a stocky blond-haired guy in denim shorts and a white singlet pats Wren on the back as he pulls him in for a hug.

‘Brother,’ he says, before his smile widens, his eyes roaming over my body when he spots me. ‘Who’s this then?’ He bites his lip and winks at me.

Wren steps in front of me, blocking his view. ‘Not yours.’ He growls out the words, sending the other guy throwing his hands up as he lets out a deep laugh.

The skin on my chest and neck warm as the familiar reaction to Wren leaves me red-faced. Thank fuck the lighting in here is shit.

‘No harm done, man. Does she have any friends, though?’

Audrey would flip over this guy. He’s bloody beautiful. Blue eyes, and that blond hair. He’s a little shorter than Wren, but just as cut.

I reach my arm around Wren to hold my hand out to the blond God. ‘I’m Matilda. Nice to meet you.’

He grins as he takes my hand, pressing his lips to my knuckles, his eyes dancing between me and Wren. ‘Jordan Hartley.’

‘Hartley? As in Koby?’ I say, not expecting that at all.

He nods. ‘Koby’s brother… unfortunately.’

I should have known. They look so similar now that I’m standing in front of Jordan. No wonder I thought Audrey would lose her shit over this guy. She’s pining over his younger but just as beautiful brother.

What’s with the gene pool I seem to be swimming in? Swimming? Jesus, I mean, drowning.

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