Vicious Rebel (82 Street Vandals #2) - Heather Long Page 0,132

where no one and nothing could reach me.

“Yes.” One word, nothing more, and yet I heard the invitation and the hope all rolled up into it. He could say so much with so little. “And no.”

“What?”

“No, we aren’t Vandals because of me.”

I’d almost forgotten I even asked that question. Laughter swelled up in me again, and I drained my coffee. With both of us done, he collected the trash and stored it in a small plastic bag that he tucked into his backpack. Then he handed me one of the harnesses. I stepped into it and then tightened it up to fit me. Clearly, whoever had worn it before me was a lot bigger.

When he had his on, I followed him to the wall, and this close, I could see the rigs and divots he used to climb. Excitement thrummed in my veins as I began my climb. The ropes were higher, and we’d need to hook carabiners once we got to the top. There was a climbing rope attached about a third of the way up, and I scrambled over it to where it had been looped near the abutment.

I slid a carabiner on it and then followed it upward to the first beam. Once up there, I checked the slack on the rope. It would catch if I fell, but I’d have to be careful of the swing so I didn’t haul Rome off too.

There was only about five feet of space above the beam to where the overpass began. I didn’t even try to stand up straight, I just scrambled across it to where the ropes were attached closer to the wall itself.

“Which one do you want me to use?”

I didn’t have to look, Rome was right behind me. The comfort of his presence was like a warm blanket wrapped around me.

“The blue one.”

That was helpful, I leaned over to look below the beam. The blue one was right there. I caught the rope and pulled it up, then began to thread it through my harness before detaching the carabiner and situating myself.

Rome watched me for a beat, then smiled before he moved over to grab the red rope and did the same for himself. We dropped down at almost the same time, and I closed my eyes for the fall. The light bounce as the ropes caught made me grin even wider. I glanced over, and Rome wore another smile.

That was like three this morning.

From this angle, I could twist and see the rest of the painting I couldn’t make out. It was Liam on his motorcycle. There was no mistaking the smirk on his face. Granted, he was wearing a helmet, but his face shield was up. He sat astride the bike, cocky as hell. It was in his posture and his expression.

But there was something else there.

Joy.

Real, open, honest joy.

Envy flooded me, and I shook my head. It was absolutely stupid to be jealous of a painting. It wasn’t like I’d ever seen that expression on his face for real. Still, I loved it. This was Rome’s brother and not just Liam. Turning, I found Rome watching me. He flicked a look to the painting then back to me, and I grinned.

“I’d pay to see that expression in real life,” I admitted. “It’s beautiful.”

It was a little too shadowy out of the sun and I was glad for the extra layers to keep off the chill, but I could have sworn Rome’s cheeks flushed a little deeper pink. Yet at the same time, he nodded.

“What are we painting here today?” I glanced to his blank canvas, and his expression shifted, minutely, but to something more enigmatic.

“You’ll see.”

In some ways, it turned into the perfect morning. We spent the next few hours hanging there, and I only had to climb up and then back down once to find a spot to empty my bladder. Rome nodded to deeper beneath the underpass, and he’d handed me toilet paper. I loved how prepared he was.

He’d also followed me down and planted himself with his back to me. I was hardly shy, but it was a bit awkward to squat and pee with the chilly wind tickling me and Rome standing not five feet away. But at the same time, I utterly appreciated the gesture.

I wasn’t alone.

When I finished, he motioned that he was going to do the same, so I took up watch for him, and I didn’t miss his low chuckle or his wink. The fact