Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,59

breath as he leaned into my face.

“Because you’re mine,” he growled in a whisper.

And all at once, the Horsemen rose from their seats, grabbed their bags, and charged down the aisle, leaving the bus first.

My heart hammered. What the—

Seriously.

Because you’re mine. I ignored the flutter in my chest as I grabbed my bag and fumbled for my dangling earbuds.

I mean, for Christ’s sake. What was his deal? Was I on some scavenger hunt he was doing or something? Nail the Nerd?

I rose with everyone else and stepped into the aisle, getting ready to leave the bus.

I’m not yours, Will Grayson.

And I’ll walk, thanks.

The bus emptied, engines out in the parking lot already firing up and headlights glowing in the night. I walked to the undercarriage to see if anyone needed help with their equipment, but it was empty already, the band and players quickly clearing out.

I turned to bolt and make my escape before he saw me, but Elle clasped my hand.

“We’re getting a ride home,” she said.

“Huh?”

“Will,” Elle explained, pulling me along. “He’s taking us home.”

“Um, no.” I yanked my hand away. “He’s not.”

“You don’t want me riding alone with him, do you?” She planted her hands on her hips. “A mature guy, used to getting what he wants?”

“Then you shouldn’t have agreed to it.”

Pivoting back around, I headed toward the gates to go home.

“But tomorrow I can say I rode in his truck,” she whined, jogging up to the side of me.

So? “No.”

He was only offering to give her a ride because it included me. It would only encourage him.

Elle fell back, and I kept walking.

“It’s nice to be nice, Emmy,” she called after me. “Please?”

I slowed, her pathetic whine making me feel guilty. I stopped and rolled my eyes, sighing. Him giving her a ride would make her year.

And who was I kidding? He wasn’t going to give up if I refused a ride tonight. The creepy-stalker-weirdo would follow me in that damn truck. Right up to my front door.

I turned around, seeing her already heading back into the parking lot, a morose slump to her shoulders.

“Wait,” I bit out.

She spun around, smiling ear to ear.

I joined her again, and we both walked over to Will’s truck, still parked.

“You’re sitting up front,” she told me. “My house is first.”

Huh—?

But she shoved me at the door of the huge, black Ford Raptor and pulled open the back door, climbing into the truck before I could utter an argument.

Seriously?

I yanked open the door and stepped up into the truck, ignoring Will’s eyes as I plopped my ass down and slammed the door.

But just then, the back door opened again, and I shot a glance over my shoulder, watching Elle quickly exit the truck again and close the door.

“What are you…?”

She walked past my window, swinging around and moving backward as she winked at me. “Have a safe ride!” she sing-songed, doing a taunting little wave.

What the…? I stopped breathing as realization dawned. This was a trick. Dammit.

The locks clicked, the parking lot still swarmed with people, and I was officially done for the day, shaking my head as I watched her disappear into the crowd.

“That’s what I get for trying to make a friend,” I grumbled.

I pulled my seatbelt on, glaring over at Will as a smile curled his lips and he started the engine.

So clever, wasn’t he? Must’ve worked that out with her in the thirty seconds it took for me to get off the bus.

He pulled ahead, driving through the empty space ahead of us, and exited the parking lot, turning up the volume as “In Your Room” played on the stereo.

We drove down the road, heading back toward the village, and I clasped my hands in my lap as my bag and flute sat on the floor.

It smelled good in here. The leather seats cooled the backside of my thighs, and my stomach dropped a little as he went over the bumps and dips.

The darkness of the cab engulfed us, hiding us, and it felt private. Like we were alone somewhere we shouldn’t be.

Sneaking a glance, I watched his long fingers drape over the T of the steering wheel and then looked up to his face, seeing his eyes narrowed on the road ahead and the unusually stern expression on his face.

His chest rose and fell, steady and controlled, and if there was one thing I knew about Will Grayson III, it was that when he was in control you should worry.

Like in the pool last