“I’ve got something to do later, want to get some homework done first,” I answered, glaring at Luke. “Let me walk you out.”
“Don’t be a stranger, Luke,” Pop said, grabbing Tiff’s coat and carrying it to the closet while I walked Luke back outside.
“Something to do later or someone?” he asked, once we were outside. I closed the door behind me.
“Why are you hassling me if you don’t care about the Allegra thing anymore?”
“’Cause I think you should come hang out. It’s not the same without you, Grayson. But you’re not really the same, are you? I think you’re too punch-drunk from steady poontang. How is she, by the way? Quiet in the sack too?”
My fists clenched. Being physical with Wren was so new and . . . private. It took all my self-control not to deck him.
“Hmm, not sharing. You are in love. You’ll get bored with her, you know,” he warned. “And then you’ll come looking for us, and we’ll be in Amsterdam.”
“I won’t get bored.”
“Yeah, okay.” He flipped his shades back on. “Gotta run. Maybe I’ll see you ’round. Tell Wren I said hey.”
He trotted down the stairs and strode toward his car, a nondescript, black hatchback that Luke’s father told him would build his character. Tell Wren I said hey. He honked the horn as the car rode down the street. Maybe he was just being friendly. Maybe he would come around to the new me. I went back inside, trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling that this was only the beginning of some sort of trouble.
Something was up.
He’d dropped the subject of Allegra too easily.
Luke was a raptor too.
NINETEEN
WREN
SIX DAYS, EIGHT HOURS, TWENTY-THREE MINutes, give or take a couple of seconds from the moment Grayson Barrett said those three little words. Common sense told me things were progressing way, way too fast, but my heart was enjoying the ride too much. In over my head? More like drowning and loving it.
Which was probably why heading to St. Lucy’s to spread holiday cheer felt like a fun, festive thing to participate in, even if I’d been backed into doing it. Afterward I was supposed to go with Grayson to his mother’s in Connecticut. I need you there, he’d said. There was no question in my mind that I would go. Thankfully the parental units approved, but it didn’t stop Mom from grilling me on the car ride to Sacred Heart.
“Where in Connecticut does Grayson’s mother live again?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know, something with a D . . . Darien, maybe?”
“Something with a D, Darien maybe,” she repeated. “I’m letting you go out of state with a strange boy, and you don’t even know where you’re going?”
“He’s not a strange boy,” I said, texting him my mother’s question. “He’s your employee, my friend, and I saved his life. We have a history.”
“A history? Wren, it’s barely been a month. Aren’t things progressing a little fast? You’re meeting his mother?”
“She’s having a tree-trimming party, Mom. It’s not like a special dinner just to meet me. And yes, it’s Darien,” I answered, reading Grayson’s text but quickly shutting down the window. The rest of the message was not something I wanted to share, but it made me grin so wide, my mother raised her eyebrows in response. How could he make me blush with a text? Seeing him couldn’t come fast enough.
“Remember to call me when you get to his mother’s house!”
“Yes, Mom. Thanks for the ride,” I said, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek. I slid out, closed the door, and headed for the parking lot, where I could already see a group huddled around Ava. She was wearing a sparkly Santa-hat headband, which looked totally adorable on her flat-ironed style, and she knew it.
“It’s about time,” she said, handing me a bag. I pulled out a hat shaped like a Christmas tree. To further the tackiness, one push of a button, and it danced on your head.
“You’re not suggesting I wear this?”
“C’mon, it’s a holiday party.”
“Are you trying to get someone to wear that asinine hat again?”
Luke Dobson stood behind Ava. Maybe it was the overcast gray-lit morning, or maybe it was my viewing the world through Grayson-colored shades, but he seemed less imposing than he had at Andy’s house. I met his gaze.
“Perfect word,” I said.
Ava huffed and handed me a jingle-bell necklace instead. “At least wear this, and hand out some of them to the guys on the bus.”
“Great,” I said, accepting the handful of necklaces. She took one and dangled it in front of Luke.
“Not happening.”
“Luke, c’mon,” Ava pleaded.
“I’m wearing red,” he said, unzipping his ski jacket. “That’s festive enough.”
I laughed.
“See, Wren agrees.”
“Fine,” she conceded.
“Okay, people, let’s move it, on the bus,” Mrs. Fiore said, clapping her hands to call us to attention. A large man in a Santa hat poked out his head from the bus doorway and waved us on.
I waited as the others piled onto the bus, then walked to the back and handed out the necklaces. A few of the St. Gabe’s boys made snarky remarks, mostly about jingle balls. I pretended not to hear and kept moving down the rows of seats. The engine sputtered to life. I held on to the seats on either side of me as the bus lurched forward.
There weren’t many seats available. To the left of me, Luke was sprawled out, head against the window. He caught my eye and motioned next to him, adjusting his position so there was more room for me. I wondered where Ava was, then spotted her up front, sitting next to Mrs. Fiore and pointing to something on her clipboard. I plunked down next to Luke, knocking into him pretty forcefully as the bus exited the parking lot.
“Sorry,” I said, sliding away from him. He didn’t say anything, just locked eyes with me, his lips upturned slightly. I caught myself staring. That mouth. He really knows what to do with it. I mock-coughed into my fist and peered out the window as the bus ambled along the boulevard. Someone began a holiday sing-along. Luke muttered, “Hell, no” and hunkered down into his seat.
“So how did you like Andy’s house?” he asked.
“It was cool,” I lied.
“You skipped out pretty early, no?”
The fact that he’d noticed was unsettling. “Yes.”
“Why?”
I shrugged.
“Let me guess, you’re more of a one-on-one kind of chick.”
“Not really.”
“Too bad for Grayson then.”
My body clenched in response.
“Did you get a chance to meet Gray’s other friends?” he asked.
“A few, I guess. Why?”
“We’re all, well . . . curious about the chick he’s been hanging with instead of us.”
“Could you stop referring to me as a chick?” I inched away from him, ready to spring up for a different seat.
He tugged my coat sleeve, urging me back.
“C’mon, stay. Here, I’ll take this,” he said, taking the remaining jingle-bell necklace from me. His fingertips grazed my palm, a move I felt down to my toes.
“Really, just trying to get to know you.”
“Whatever,” I said, digging my hands into my pockets.
“Now who’s dissing who?”
“I’m not dissing you, Luke.”
“Whateverrrrr.”
I wondered if he was being sincere or not. If he was Grayson’s friend, he must have been okay on some level, right? And if I put up with him, maybe he’d prove to be a wealth of information. There were some definite blanks about Grayson that he could fill in.
“So you, Andy, and Gray all went to Saint Gabe’s together?”