I freeze mid-step, then turn to glare back up at the house.
Marcus is lounging in the door frame, his arms crossed over his bare chest and the half-smile I’m learning to both love and hate curving his lips.
He shrugs slightly. “You said you wouldn’t let me drive you home. I said okay. So Theo will.”
I grit my teeth. Jesus. That’s why he relented so easily back upstairs. And that’s what he was tapping out on his phone after he checked the time. He was calling in his backup.
And that backup arrived in less than five minutes.
It’s both impressive and disturbing how close these three men all seem to be—the way they function as a unit and always have each other’s backs.
I’m almost envious of it, in a weird way. Although right now, I hate it.
“I hope you have exact fare, because that’s all I can accept.” Theo winks at me, clearly amused by his own joke. “Sorry. City policy.”
Goddammit. Why does he have to be so fucking charming?
My gaze shifts from the man in the car to the one still leaning against the door frame. They’re both watching me, and even though there’s a few yards of space between me and each of them, I still feel boxed in.
Marcus knew exactly what he was doing when he sent that text to his friend. He was taking away my other options, narrowing my choices down to exactly two.
Accept a ride home from him. Or accept one from Theo.
“Fine.” I turn back once more to meet Marcus’s gaze as I speak. My voice is hard, and something about my angry, cold expression makes him straighten a little, as if he wants to step toward me.
To do what? Apologize?
Doubtful.
I don’t want to let him get near me again, though. I don’t need any more of his mind-obliterating touches tonight.
I’m pissed at him right now, just like I was when I came to the house. Regardless of what happened during the hours in between, I want to stay that way. It’s the only emotional response to this man that makes any sense. All of my other feelings toward him are a chaotic mess I can’t even get a handle on.
So before he can move, I pivot on my heel and walk quickly toward Theo’s car, yanking the front passenger door open and sliding inside. I roll the window back up, and I don’t look toward Marcus again as the car pulls smoothly away from the curb.
I don’t know what kind of car it is, but even I can tell it’s a nice fucking ride. It probably cost more than two years of my rent. The inside has a pleasant smell, a mixture of that distinctive “car leather” scent and something else. Something woody and a little sweet, like dark cherry and oak.
I have a feeling that scent is coming from Theo, and I do my best to ignore the way it tickles my nostrils, warm and addictive.
We drive in silence for a few minutes, with only the soft sound of the radio filling the car.
I don’t bother to tell him where I live. I’m sure he already knows.
His gaze flicks over to me a few times as he drives, one large hand resting languidly on the wheel, his muscled forearms stretching the rolled sleeves of his Henley. The expression on his face is a mixture of curiosity and amusement, and I try to keep my own features on lockdown so he can’t read anything on my face.
The air outside has turned cold in the absence of the sun, and my tank top feels too thin and flimsy. I rub my amputated arm with my good one, wishing I could properly wrap my arms around myself.
Theo reaches over and turns a knob on the dash, then flicks the air vents so that warm air blows toward me. He presses another button, and the seat beneath me begins to heat up.
The warmth relaxes my tight muscles a little, and despite myself, I find my gaze flitting over to study his face.
“So do you just do whatever Marcus tells you to all the time?” I finally ask. “Are you at his beck and call twenty-four seven, or what?”
Theo grins, keeping his gaze on the road. “Not exactly. But when he needs me, yeah. I’m there.”
“Why? Are you his groupie? Did you lose a bet to him or something?”
I’m needling him a little. I want to get a rise out of one of these guys, and I’m still pissed about the way Marcus basically forced me into accepting a ride home. I’m pissed that there are three of them and only one of me, which means they always have the advantage.
The smile slips from Theo’s face, and when he turns to look at me, his expression is dead serious. “No. No bet. But Ry and I would follow Marcus into hell if he asked. We owe him. A lot more than any single debt.”
My stomach dips a little at the sudden change in his demeanor. From what I’ve seen, he’s the most easy-going of the three men, which makes it disturbingly easy to be drawn in by him, to be taken by his charm.
The way he’s speaking right now, though? The darkness that hovers behind his blue-green eyes? It makes me positive that he’s been through just as much shit as his two friends have.
“Why? What’s your deal? Are you guys in a gang or something?”
Fuck. I told myself I didn’t want to know anything else about Marcus or his friends. But this feels like it doesn’t count, because I’m not asking Marcus directly. And my curiosity is too powerful to ignore.
Besides, if I want to have any chance of getting them out of my life, maybe I should be learning more about them. Gathering information to use against them if it comes down to it.
Theo chuckles. It’s a freer sound than Marcus’s laugh, as if he can actually still find humor in things. “Nah, not exactly. We’re just close friends.”
“What do you all do?” I glance around at his fancy as fuck car and his casual but clearly expensive clothes. “Let me guess. You designed an app that took off and made you millions.”
He laughs again, seeming truly amused by that. “Nope. Good guess though. Ryland and Marcus are both involved in their family businesses.”
“And you?”
“I’m…” He shrugs lightly, shifting his grip on the wheel. “Trying to get my own thing going.”
“What thing?”
He cocks a brow at me. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”
I scowl. “Oh, so you three are allowed to basically stalk me, to beat up muggers in alleys and follow me around and drive me places in the middle of the night—but I’m not allowed to know anything about you?”
The shifting light of passing streetlamps moves over his face as he grins. “Fair point. I like that you’re curious about us.” He glances at me. “Marcus isn’t the only one who owes you, you know. When you saved his life, you probably saved ours too.”
“It was an accident,” I say automatically.
The words feel more and more like a lie every time I utter them, and the look Theo shoots me lets me know he doesn’t believe it for a second. I don’t want him to push for a different answer though, so instead, I distract him with a question of my own.
“If you and Ryland both owe me like you said, how come he hates me so much and you don’t?”
Theo flicks his blinker on and makes a smooth right turn. “Ry doesn’t hate you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“He doesn’t.” He runs his free hand through his golden-blond hair. “He’s just… protective.”
Like Marcus fucking needs protecting from anyone.
I snort. “Yeah. Okay.”
“He’ll come around.”
I don’t answer that, because the honest truth is, I should have no reason to want Ryland to come around. It shouldn’t matter whether he likes me or not, and talking about him like this makes it seem as if he’s part of my life in a way that makes me uneasy.
As if he’s a permanent part of it.
As if our lives will always be entwined, no matter how hard I try to break the connection.
Or maybe even how hard he does.
“Why don’t you hate me then?” I ask, running my fingertips over the soft leather of the seat. “Why are you nice to me?”
Theo pulls to a stop, and I realize with a start that we’re back at my place. The drive went by faster than I realized, and I almost don’t want to get out of the cozy bubble of the car.
He leaves the engine idling and turns to face me more fully, brushing a hand through his tousled blond hair again. “Because I don’t think you deserve to be punished for doing the most selfless thing a person can do.”
“It was—”
I can’t even finish the sentence this time.
Theo watches the lie die on my lips, then nods slightly, as if he’s glad I didn’t finish. His gaze travels over my features, soaking me in. There’s something warm and open in his expression, and it makes me feel like he’s seeing all of me—or at least much more than I usually allow strangers to glimpse.
Just like Marcus, he’s slipping past all my defenses. But where Marcus blows holes in them and barges through, Theo just taps on them lightly until, unbidden, they open for him.
I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who I innately wanted to trust more.
And that scares the fuck out of me.
“Well, uh, thanks for the ride.” Dragging my gaze away from him, I unclip my seatbelt.
“Anytime.” One side of his mouth tilts up. “Bus fare is on me tonight. Oh, and hey—if you ever need a bus to take you anywhere else, just let me know. We run special routes for beautiful women with rose tattoos.”
He rattles off his number, and I nod quickly, a little surprised that he’s offering to drive me around outside of this late-night favor to his friend. I know all three of these men have been following me, but I thought Marcus was the driving force behind it all, the one whose obsession brought them crashing into my life.
But the way Theo’s talking to me, the way he’s looking at me, it doesn’t seem like he’s doing this for Marcus at all.
Does he know what happened between me and Marcus tonight? How much do I still smell like sex? Look like sex?
My hair has to be a mess, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve got bite marks and hickeys all over my chest and neck. I probably look like I just got out of a gang-bang.
I can’t quite figure out how I feel about the fact that Theo knows I fucked his friend. All of this is such a jumbled up mess that nothing makes logical sense. Nothing fits the normal rules of behavior.
Trying to shove down the flush I can feel coloring my cheeks, I twist a little to open the door with my left hand and then slide off the heated seat and into the cool night air outside my apartment.
I push the car door shut, and as it closes with a thunk, the window rolls down again. Theo dips his head, dropping it nearly sideways so he can grin up at me.
“Goodnight, Rose. Sleep tight.”
I give him a jerky nod, rattled by his use of a nickname for me. It’s the same thing he called me at the bar, and the easy familiarity of it unnerves me.
Without saying anything else, I turn and hurry up to my apartment, fishing my keys from my pocket. The 3B decal is still somewhere in Marcus’s house, resting wherever it landed when I hurled it at the floor.
The memory of why I went over to his house in the first place, along with everything else that happened after I arrived, makes me feel suddenly exhausted. The day I spent doing boring office work downtown feels like another lifetime entirely, not something that happened less than twenty-four hours ago.
So much has happened since then.
So much has changed.
With a sharp shake of my head, I wrench the door of my building open and dart inside quickly. Once I’m safely tucked away in my own apartment, I chuck my keys on the coffee table and sink down onto the couch.
I sit there for a few minutes, letting the rough, worn fabric of the cushion beneath my palm ground me.
Then I dig into my back pocket and pull my cell phone out. Resting it on my lap, I type in the number that Theo gave me and hit “add new contact.”
I don’t know why I do it.
I’m never going to call him.
