Twelve of Roses

“Hi Wes,” I greeted Darcy’s ex-boyfriend who was working behind the register, continuing to ignore Constantine.

“Rose! I haven’t seen you in forever. How you been?” He smiled brightly at me. The joy on his face seemed genuine.

“Desperately trying to figure out how to have fun in this town.”

“Well, when you figure that out, let me know too. Speaking of fun, we need to get together sometime. We can go bowling or something.”

We had bowling alleys here?

“That would be cool.” I nodded, sliding my wristlet off to get my money.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. It’s on me.”

“Aw, thank you.” I gave him a quick smile and stepped out of his growing line. I was uncomfortably aware that everyone was staring at me. “I’ll see ya around,” I called over my shoulder, making haste for the exit.

Four steps beyond the door, a strong hand wrapped around my arm, causing me to almost drop my soda.

“Hey! What are you doing?” I questioned as Constantine guided me around a small group of boys.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. What are you doing out so late? Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your friends and doing girly shit?”

“I don’t have many friends here,” I huffed, “and I’m not girly.”

“Hm,” he grunted, unimpressed with my explanation. “And you drove that death trap here?” he checked, nodding his head in the direction Big Rusty was parked. His tone turned cold, like I’d made a personal offense against him.

“It’s not a death trap. It’s just…old,” I defended. Had he not noticed me driving the damn thing around for the past month?

With Darcy gone, I didn’t have much of a choice. My grandfather wasn’t a wealthy man; we made do with what we had, something the Burrows wouldn’t ever have to deal with. That family had a long history of being privileged assholes.

Con sighed and shook his head, making a hand motion over my shoulder. A quick glance in that direction showed the other Burrows brother waiting for him by their Hummer.

“I’m going to take you home.”

That didn’t sound like an offer. It came across as a statement.

When I finally looked up at him again, I had to force myself to keep breathing like a normal human being. His gorgeous eyes peered into mine, piercing, like he could see straight through me. I stared back, utterly fixated.

“Did you hear me?” he asked slowly, giving me a peculiar look.

“I can’t leave Grandpa’s truck.”

Great. How long was I staring?

“Justin can drive it back.”

He wrapped his large hand around mine. It emanated warmth, and there was a roughness to it from working at his family’s construction company.

I let him lead me towards his car, trying to ignore all the stares as heads swerved to watch us and palms covered mouths to hush whispers.

My feet moved robotically; I didn’t want to cause an even bigger scene than we already were.

I hated being the center of attention.

No matter how many times I told myself that people’s opinions of me didn’t matter, I still let them affect me.

I squeezed my drink so hard I’m surprised the Styrofoam cup didn’t explode. My gaze darted around the parking lot, seeking an invisible outlet to escape through. Time seemed to slow, and the short forty-second walk to his truck felt like it took an hour.

I could have said no, refusing to budge a single step. It would have been easy to plant the heels of my flip-flops in the ground and tell him to go screw himself.

But I didn’t.

I didn’t want to.

Maybe the venomous whispers would be worth it. The guy I’d spent restless hours gazing upon like an addict seeking out their next fix was finally paying attention to me.

“What’s up?” Justin asked as we approached the vehicle.

“I need you to drive Earl’s truck back. I’m taking her home,” Constantine explained.

“Keys in it?”

“Yeah,” I replied, darting a quick look into his hazel eyes.

“All right then.” He shrugged, brushing past me without seeking a better explanation.

Con helped me climb into the passenger seat of the Hummer before circling around to the driver side. I settled into the warm leather seat, trying not to give away that I was deeply inhaling his woodsy cologne, watching him from the corner of my eye.

He had the whole sexy bad boy thing down flawlessly, without being one of those douchebags that went out of their way to fit that mold. It was naturally him.

You know the type: tall, the body of a god, swagger that makes your stomach flip, and a voice that could melt honey.

That was Constantine.

“You cold?” he asked, already reaching to turn down the air.

I shook my head, stuffing my straw back into my mouth.

“I’m sorry for being a dick, okay? I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you, Rosie.”

He reached over and gave me a light squeeze; the concern in his voice caught me off guard. His younger sister, Victoria, was one of the ‘friends’ I didn’t associate with unless we were in the same vicinity. He had no reason to care about my welfare. But still, it made me made smile and caused my shoulders to relax some.