Ugh...
Before he has a chance to kiss me, the louvre doorsrattle. The flimsy latch catches and holds for a second before the force behind it splinters the frame.
The busted doors fly open and Shane stands there towering and furious. “Out. Now,” he barks, the lights casting a shadow on his tight jaw.
“Dude, chill. I, uh—” Derrick stammers when he realizes it’snotone of his jock friends.
It’s ShaneQuinlan.
“I said out,” Shane repeats in a low, lethal voice.
But he doesn’t wait. He yanks Derrick by the collar and shoves him to the floor, right into the circle of kids. The music is still pounding, but all voices stop. The whole room holds its breath.
Shaking his head, Shane steps inside the closet and shuts the broken door. My breath catches. Oh my God, it’s just me and my crush. Alone. In the closet. In the dark.
Heart racing, I barely manage to speak. “What...what are you doing, Shane?”
Breathing hard, and fists clenched at his sides, he grinds out, “What the hell areyoudoing, Lennox? Playing stupid games with an idiot like Derrick Rossi?”
“I’m eighteen.” I fold my arms, hiding how I’m shaking. “I can do what I want.”
“Aye? You want thatkidslobbering all over you?”
If he considers six-foot Derrick Rossi a kid, what must he think of me?
“Maybe I do.” I rock on my heels. “Are you jealous?”
His face goes blank. “Are you drunk?”
“Maybe. It’s my birthday. I’m allowed to be drunk and kiss whoever I want.”
Shane swears something in Gaelic under his breath and runs a hand through his thick, wavy hair. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
I blink up at him. “What? It’s my house. It’smyparty.”
“I’m aware of that.” Shane shoves the closet door openwith one hand, the other grasping my fingers. His hold feels gentler than it should, given the fire brewing in his eyes.
We leave the closet and Shane pulls me through the crowd, sending another signal that he doesn’t care about the Quinlan/Donnelly feud. He’s claimed Garrett as his best friend. Now he’s claiming me, too.
But for how long? One kiss? One night?
Kids stare and whisper to each other, but Shane ignores all of that. He opens the basement door and pulls me up a set of cement stairs that lead to my backyard. The cool night air hits my heated skin like a blow. The hum of my party fades behind us the further we get away from the house.
We get to the street where Shane’s gleaming black Mustang with red pinstriping is parked at the curb. The Quinlans live at the end of our dead-end street in a stately manor and all the brothers drive nice cars.
But I know the heartbeat ofthisparticular car when it rumbles down my block. I listen for it every night sitting at my window. Wishing. Hoping. Dreaming.
Shane opens the Mustang’s passenger door. “Get in.”
“Where are we going?” I stand frozen on the curb.
His jaw clenches. “I’m not leaving you with a bunch of drunk kids. Your father is out. And Garrett is...”
“Yeah?” I detect a crack in their relationship.
Garrett is my lifeline to seeing Shane. What if he plans to tow the Quinlan line and distance himself from my brother? This may be my last chance to be near Shane and feel his lips on mine.
I’m taking it.