The Rush (The Siren Series) - By Rachel Higginson Page 0,22
street.
“Thanks,” I offered to Kenna, reaching for my hoodie. “He’s all yours.” I threw out as a candid acknowledgment of Ryder behind me.
There was a long moment of awkward silence before Kenna looked me straight in the eyes with a pinched expression and declared, “He’s always been all mine.”
Yikes.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I hadn’t meant to issue a challenge, but Kenna was looking at me like she was deciding which hand to slap me with.
“She is well aware, Ken,” Ryder saved me by pulling his girlfriend to him and nuzzling into her neck.
Ugh. More PDA.
I looked longingly at the door, determined to flee. My night of freedom had been trampled and tainted by these two love birds and now I was being accused of poaching. Kenna’s claws had come out to protect her valuables and I was caught in between a product of my heritage and the uncomfortable third wheel.
“Seriously, Kenna,” I started, forcing the apology from my lips. This was not in my nature, but something deeper than my instinct to run whispered that I needed to protect this relationship. Or at least protect Ryder…. from myself. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not like that. I mean, what’s yours is yours. I didn’t mean to intrude tonight. You came up to me…. I’m not interested in… I mean, you have nothing to worry about.”
Ryder looked up at me from his hold on Kenna and could barely hold back his laughter. “You’ve given her a hard enough time, Kenna. She gets it, yeah?”
“Yeah, she gets it,” Kenna answered Ryder and her eyes narrowed on me further.
“I get it,” I repeated and then backed up toward the bar. I needed another drink before the bus ride home. I turned my back on the happy couple and called out to the bartender. “One more for the road,” I flirted a little, flashing him a smile, since he was already cleaning up and I knew I was being a pain in the ass.
“I’m just not sure the vodka gets it,” Kenna sniped, not even trying to soften her voice or disguise her disgust.
“Hey, give me a break,” Neck Tattoos held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “It’s just water. I don’t serve minors.” And then he went back to scrubbing down the bar. That was the last shot of H2O I was getting tonight.
Thankfully the bartender had been defensive enough that even I believed he wouldn’t have served me. I turned back to Ryder and Kenna not really wanting to meet either of them in the eye. Water was bad for my rep.
I ignored the part of my soul that felt relieved somebody else had seen this part of me. The part that preferred water. The innocent thirsty part of me.
I didn’t know what that meant and now was not the time to try and untangle the mountains of screwed up I was.
“Uh, recovering addict and all,” I mumbled. I didn’t exactly meet their curious stares, but I did notice Ryder’s lips curve into a barely there smile. “Well, good talk. See you two tomorrow.”
I maneuvered around them during their simultaneous goodbyes and finally fled into the cool night. I immediately threw my hoodie on, zipped it up to the top and pulled on my hood. I had a trek to get back home and chances were homework was completely out of the picture. But I had gotten my night of freedom.
And there were parts of it that actually felt…. free.
Chapter Seven
“Hey,” Chase met me on the sidewalk in front of the school the minute I stepped out of Exie’s silver Lexus. I gave a fast wave to Exie and met him in front of the long set of stone steps leading to the front door of the antiquated school. Once upon a time Omaha was the capitol city of Nebraska and Central High School the capitol building. When Nebraska moved the yellow star to Lincoln, Central became a high school. It was a really pretty building, but a super crappy school…. at least in my opinion.
Chase was football-star-studly today in his letterman jacket and swoopy hair that fell across his forehead. He two-strapped his backpack and rocked back and forth on his heels while waiting for me. I was the recipient of a very confident smile this morning. His two dimples were like some kind of magical force, drawing out my own smile I thought had died sometime in the night.