Luke, Violet, Emery, and I are piled in my Dodge Challenger. Luke is driving since he’s a recovering alcoholic and always assigns himself as the designated driver. He offered to drive his truck, but it’s a single cab and has a habit of breaking down at least once a week.

“Your car’s pretty badass,” he remarks, revving the gas at a stoplight.

“Yeah, it is. My dad tried to keep it when I moved out here,” I sign to him from the passenger seat. “But I told him to go fuck himself since I’m the one who paid to get it fixed up.”

“Good. Your dad’s a fucking asshole.” Luke hammers the gas, and the tires spin as the car rips through the intersection.

“That he is,” I agree, glancing behind me at Emery.

Violet is in the backseat with Emery, staring out the window. The two of them haven’t uttered a word to each other, which isn’t surprising. Violet is an intense girl and doesn’t get along very well with others. Honestly, I think if the two of them gave each other a chance, they’d get along just fine. Both have had shitty lives and it seems like enough to strike up a conversation.

“So, now can you tell me where we’re going?” Emery asks, interrupting my thoughts.

Violet turns her head and gives me a look. “You haven’t told her where we’re going?”

I nonchalantly shrug. “I want to surprise her.”

Violet’s expression darkens with amusement. “How very boyfriendy of you.”

I roll my eyes, but a trace of a smile reaches my lips. I move my hand to sign that we’re just friends, but Emery beats me to the punch.

“We’re just friends,” she tells Violet. “And maybe not even that.”

“What does that even mean?” Violet wonders, staring at Emery through the darkness of the cab. “You’re like fuck buddies or something?”

Emery and I exchange a look, and then Emery quickly shakes her head. “No, not even close,” she replies to Violet then faces the window, letting her hair fall to the side of her face.

I think she might be blushing, and what I wouldn’t give to be able to see it.

“Say whatever you want,” Violet singsongs, crossing her arms and grinning. “But I don’t believe you.”

“You’re trying to cause trouble,” I sign to Violet, shooting her a warning look.

“I’m trying to put the truth out there,” she signs back, discreetly nodding her head in Violet’s direction. “You want her. You’re just afraid for some reason.”

“I’m not afraid.” My hands move firmly in front of me.

“Yes, you are,” she signs persistently. “You’re afraid to have something you want because you’re afraid of losing it. Trust me, I know these things because it’s how I used to be.”

She’s so very wrong. If I could, I’d take Emery in my arms and kiss her until she became breathless, like I did a few times before shit hit the fan. Now, she barely looks at me.

Even if she did allow me to kiss her, Doc would kill me if he found out. According to him, Emery is meant to be with Evan, her once ex-boyfriend. The two of them have gotten back together over the last few weeks, even though it’s apparent Emery loathes him. She cringes every time he touches her, frowns every time he looks at her, and tenses every time he speaks to her.

“He’s not afraid of himself,” Emery abruptly says, apparently watching my and Violet’s conversation. “He’s afraid of me.”

The cab grows awkwardly quiet, and I rotate back around in my seat and crank up some music. We make the rest of the drive in silence, and I get lost in my thoughts, wondering if that’s what Emery thinks, that I’m afraid of her. Her father, yes. Her, no fucking way.

I need to tell her that’s not true.

Ten minutes later, we’re filing into the club. The music is deafening, but in the best way possible, vibrating the floor and my chest. The air smells like salt and alcohol, and the lighting is hypnotically low.

Emery pauses in the entryway, staring wide-eyed at the crowded dance floor. “Holy shit,” her lips mouth. Her gaze finds the stage where the singer is belting lyrics into the microphone, and she stares at him with her lips parted.

I dip my lips toward her, grab her hand, and trace on her palm the words, “Is that a good shock or a bad one?”

She shivers from my touch. “Good shock.” She peers over her shoulder and our lips nearly brush. It’s the closest we’ve been to each other since Doc told her who I am. I want to eliminate the rest of the space between us, pull her closer, and devour her with my lips. Fear stops me, though. “Thank you. I’ve never been to a concert before.”

I step to the side of her to sign, “I didn’t think so.” Then I place my hand on the small of her back and steer her toward Violet and Luke who are standing at the bar in the midst of a clusterfuck of people.

“This band is crazy good!” Violet shouts over the music then leans over the counter to flag the bartender down.

A middle-aged guy with a thick beard strolls over to Violet to take her order, unsubtly checking her out. Luke inches forward and drapes an arm around Violet, claiming her. The bartender decides to back off, but his gaze ends up on Emery, staring at her in a way that makes my blood boil.

Emery is an outrageously gorgeous girl who turns a lot of heads. Unlike how Luke did with Violet, I can’t claim her because she’s not mine.