Page 7 of Joyride
Wren
“Remindme why you thought it was a good idea to invite them over?” I whisper-shout at Aria.
She shrugs. “Why not? They’re hot, and the club was too loud. I figured it’d be easier for us all to talk at the house.”
“What’s going on between you and the tattooed Viking,” Harper asks. “He told us nothing, that you’re his best friend’s sister, but the way he looks at you says something completely different.”
I sigh. “He was really drunk one night and kissed me. I was still with Zack at the time, so I kind of put an end to our friendship. I couldn’t risk it happening again.”
Aria squeals. If we weren’t in a separate Uber than the guys, I wouldn’t have said anything.
“Sketch has acted clueless about it. He must not remember it happening,” I add.
“Does he get drunk like that often,” Harper asks.
“No, it was the night of Cali and Buster’s wedding. He got a little carried away while celebrating,” I tell them. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to talk to him about it.”
“You had feelings for him while you were with Zack,” Elena states.
I nod my head and tears fill my eyes.
“Oh, honey.” Aria wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Zack was and is a piece of shit. He never deserved you.”
“I let Zack take so much away from me.” A couple of tears fall down my cheek.
“He won’t ever take anything from you again,” Harper says. “You should think about telling Sketch what happened.”
“If I tell Sketch, he’ll tell Shade. They’ll want to murder him,” I tell them.
“Let them. That piece of shit deserves it for what he did,” Aria says. We pull up to the house, Harper pays the Uber driver, and we climb out. I walk into the house and straight to my room to change into some leggings and a tank top. I leave my make-up on, even though I want nothing more than to wash it off. I never wear so much, but it’s been needed.
I walk out of my room to go find Elena. She’s talking with Diesel, so I head to the kitchen to get a drink. I walk in to Sketch getting a beer out of the fridge.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were in here,” I mutter.
“Aria said there was beer in here and to help myself,” he says. I look at my feet, avoiding his eyes. “Wren, can we talk? Please?”
My heart skips a beat, and I hesitate. This is what I was afraid of. “Uh, sure.”
I lead him out to the back deck, only stopping to plug in the bistro lights that are strung up between the posts.
“It’s cozy out here,” Sketch says, breaking the silence. He sits on the couch. I turn the fire pit on low and sit adjacent to him. Keeping some distance between us. “I’m sorry for what I said back at the club. Shade called me earlier, freaking out.” He pauses.
Of course Shade would be freaking out. Sienna probably is, too. I just up and left— I had to. It was the only way to ensure Zack wouldn’t follow me. I study him as he takes a drink of his beer. His hair is pulled back into a low bun, but he has a strand of hair that fell in his face. Never in my life did I imagine a guy could ever pull off having hair longer than mine, but Sketch does. He has this bad boy appeal, but when you get to know him, he’s this big, soft teddy bear.
“He and Sienna went back to y’all’s apartment,” he continues. “He said you left your phone, but took everything out of an emergency stash you and Sienna had in case one of y’all ever needed to run. What are you running from, Little Bird? What are you hiding with all that make-up?”
Tears well up in my eyes. “I can’t tell you, Sketch. Not right now.”
“Can you tell me what happened for you to ice me out?” I risk looking at him. His eyes are sad, pleading.
“You really don’t remember,” I ask.
“I remember doing way too many shots with the guys and I remember waking up on the couch at Minx’s house,” he admits. “Anything between that is lost.”
“You found me before I left the reception. We walked up to Minx’s house together. When we got there . . .” This time I pause. So many times I’ve thought about that night and could still feel his lips on mine. Even now as I think about it, I can feel them against mine. I sigh. “You kissed me.”
He hangs his head, possibly ashamed of his actions. I’m not sure. When he looks at me, his eyes hold mixed emotions.
