Loving Violet (Rockers' Legacy Book 4)

Remington kept us both close as he got me a fresh drink. But it was hard to hang out when the music was so loud and people kept coming up to us either to talk to Remington or to hit on Shaw.

Frustrated, Remington pulled me toward the stairs. “Let’s just go to my room,” he said as we started up to the second floor. “I hate all these fuckers anyway.”

Shaw glanced between us then shook her head. “I think I’m going to hang out down here.”

I started to protest, but she kissed my cheek. “Have fun,” she murmured. “He’s totally into you.”

“But…” She didn’t have to tell me. I could see how Remington couldn’t take his eyes off me. And I liked it. A lot. But I didn’t want to leave her alone.

She smirked and gave me a wink. “I’ll be fine. I just saw someone I know.”

“Who?” I asked, glancing around.

“Jags is here,” she said as she hugged me. “I think he’s tracking my phone or something because he shows up wherever I happen to be lately. No way he just knew I was coming here tonight.”

We hadn’t talked about her and Jagger yet. I’d tried to bring up the subject earlier, but she’d evaded the topic. I knew something was going on there, though, and I was determined to get the full details out of her.

Tomorrow, I promised myself. Tomorrow, I would make her spill all the beans. For the night, however, I was going to hang out with a great guy and get over Luca.

If Remington hadn’t been guiding me, I knew I easily would have gotten lost just trying to find his room. Although “room” seemed like a gross understatement. It was more like an open floor plan apartment when we walked in and he shut the door behind us.

His massive bed sat under a skylight that showcased the moon and a few stars. Against one wall, there was an IT geek’s wet dream of computers and other stuff I didn’t really understand. A smaller desk on the opposite side of the room looked like it was more for studying since it only had a simple laptop and his school books on it.

The huge open space between the two made no sense to me until we sat on his bed and he pushed a few buttons on a remote. The biggest flat screen I’d ever seen came down out of the ceiling. It was like we were in a private movie theater, and it was only as I heard the people on the screen clearly that I realized the room must have been soundproof because I couldn’t hear the music that was basically rocking the entire house.

“Who did you say you were again?” I asked with a laugh.

He sighed. “My grandfather is Magnus Warner.”

I knew my look was blank, but I couldn’t really help it. “I’m sorry, is that supposed to be a name I know?”

Remington let out a soft laugh and tugged me back onto the pillows beside him. “You make me wish things were different, Stevenson. I want to bundle you up and take you with me.”

“With you where?” I asked with a frown, feeling something where my heart used to be clench.

Once he was comfortable, he twisted off the top of my beer and then his own. “I’m moving,” he said after taking a long pull from his bottle.

“No,” I denied, not wanting it to be so. Remington was the only person who had made me feel even a little bit while I’d made myself numb the last few months. Now that I was determined to move on, I’d kind of hoped he would be there to help guide me. “You can’t move. You just got here.”

“This is only one of many homes we own around the world. We came here because it seemed like the right place, but things have changed, and Grandfather thinks the answers will be…elsewhere.”

It felt like he was talking in riddles. “What answers?” I demanded.

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day,” he said evasively. “For now, how about we just enjoy the night?”

“I…” I swallowed hard. “When are you leaving?”

Remington took another drink of his beer before answering. “We leave Sunday.”

“But I don’t want you to go,” I whispered.

He cupped the side of my face. “I don’t want to go either, Stevenson. Hell, there’s a lot I don’t want to do that Grandfather is making me. But I’m not eighteen, so I don’t really have a say yet.”

“You’re not? But you’re a senior…” I trailed off, realizing in all the times we’d talked, we never discussed our birthdays.

“I’m seventeen for a few more weeks. I guess you could say this is a going-away party mixed with an early birthday party. Not that I would have wanted one.” He reached out, about to stroke his fingers over my cheek, but at the last second dropped his hand. “You’re the only one I really wanted to celebrate it with anyway.”

“As a…friend?” I whispered the last part, suddenly unsure of myself and my motives for coming to his party.