Revved (Page 55)

“I’m making sure Andressa is okay.” His voice is like granite. “So, go back to the bar, sit the fuck down, and try not to offend any more of my friends before I get back.”

Friend? Oh, so now I’m his friend.

“Ugh! Whatever!” She throws up her hands, swivels on her heel, and sashays back in the direction of the bar.

The moment she’s gone, I turn and start walking.

Goal—get away from Carrick.

Plan—catch a cab and go to bed.

And possibly cry.

Carrick falls in step beside me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I flash an angry look his way.

“Coming with you.”

“Well, I’m going back to the hotel and then straight to bed, and you’re most definitely not invited.”

He lets out a throaty chuckle, and I have to fight hard to keep the smile from my lips.

“Habits” by Tove Lo and Hippie Sabotage starts to hum from the speakers of one of the bars we pass.

I love this song. The lyrics. Just sometimes…I wish I could numb the pain.

Out of nowhere, I suddenly feel exhausted and sad. Really sad.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I say in a quiet voice, “Go back to the bar, Carrick. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Andressa, I know you think I’m a total bastard, but there’s no way I’m letting you walk around late at night on your own. Anything could happen to you.”

“Like you’d care.” I regret it the moment I say it.

He grabs my arm. Pulling me to a stop, he stands in front of me, way too close. I can practically taste his aftershave on my tongue and feel the warmth of his breath on my face.

His hand is still on my arm, and it’s burning me from the outside in, right down to my core.

I need him to stop touching me…and never stop touching me.

I’m so confused, and it hurts like a physical pain.

“Of course I’d care,” he says low. “You’re—” He cuts off. Rubbing his forehead with the heel of his free hand, he takes a step back.

He drops his hand from my arm, and I’m more than relieved for the space.

“You’re my friend, Andressa.” He sounds resigned.

I just don’t know to what he’s resigned.

I laugh, and it’s a hollow sound. “We’re hardly friends right now.”

His face tightens, and I see his jaw start to work angrily.

Not wanting another fight, I step around him and start walking again.

A moment later, he’s back beside me, keeping pace, but he says nothing more, and silence ensues.

“How have you been?” he finally asks in a soft voice.

I keep my eyes fixed ahead. “Good. You?”

“Same.”

We lapse back into that horrible silence. It’s heartbreaking being in such an uncomfortable silence with him. From the moment I met Carrick, finding something to talk about was never an issue for us.

Just everything else it seems.

I hear a noise behind us. Glancing over my shoulder, hoping it’s not the pop princess, I see a man. It’s the same man, I now remember, who was lingering outside the bar we were in. I also remember seeing him hovering nearby when Carrick first caught up with me. I just didn’t register it in my anger.

I only noticed him before because he’s such a big guy, and now, in the darkness of the harbor, he looks even bigger and a little menacing. He’s walking way too close to us for my liking.

“Carrick…” I hiss. “I know this might sound a little crazy, but I think we’re being followed.” I jerk my head back in the direction of the huge dude.

Carrick looks back and chuckles. “Don’t worry. He’s my security. Dad assigned me a guard while I’m here. You know, it being Monte Carlo, race crazy, and with me being—”

“You.” I smile.

“Yeah.” He laughs again. “And with the press attention being a little more intense because of Sienna—” He cuts off.

The lightness that I was just feeling is obliterated.

He lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry about the way she spoke to you.”

“It’s not your fault.” I shrug. She’s a stark raving bitch all on her own.

“Yeah, but she’s here with me. And she had no right speaking to you the way she did. It won’t happen again.”

I don’t care how she spoke to me. I just care that she’s here with you. I hate that she’s here with you.

Of course, I don’t say that. I just shrug again and say, “It doesn’t matter.”

“When it comes to you, everything matters.”

His words knock the air from my lungs.

I want to know what that means. And I don’t.

God, I’m so screwed up.

Dipping my chin, I stare down at my moving feet. “How long have you known her?”

“Not long.”

At least he didn’t know her before he slept with me. Still, I don’t know whether to feel better or worse at that fact.

“I met her after I got back to the UK.”

When you left Barcelona and me behind. “Right.”

“I didn’t invite her here.”

“Mmhmm.”

“She just kind of invited herself, and Dad was there when she said something about coming. He thought the press she would bring would be positive—you know, with me actually being with just one woman for once.”

He laughs, and it’s an uncomfortable sound. I really don’t like it or any of what he’s telling me.

“And…I guess I just went along with it.”