In which Lucas Sinclair's older sister spends her whole summer trying to tame Billy Hargrove.
NSFW: 18+ only
Contains Dark themes and sexual content that may not be suitable for people under the age of 18.
Read at your own risk-this essentially is...
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Chapter Eight: Like A Kid Again
"We can't keep running into each other like this, pretty girl. It's not a good look." Billy's shouted over the thrashing bass of his music, hair mussed by the wind and the bridge of his nose was a gentle pink from the heat of the beating sun. One finger raised to slide his sunglasses down just a touch, mischievous ocean eyes thrashing with excitement but the joy quickly fades—and so does Billy's music.
His thumb twists the volume down as low as it can go, his car immediately screeching to a halt and he nearly gets his door ripped clean off by a passing car. Billy grunted once, raising a middle finger at the flying red Chevrolet on his jog over to Zara—she's crying.
Not sobbing loudly but her lashes are soaked through resembling spiky little spider legs; her mascara was beginning to race down her cheeks in little streaks and Billy can't help the way his heart breaks a little when she rushed to wipe it away before he could fully see her. "Can you please just go away." Her voice is thick, her nose slightly puffy from the crying and before Billy knows it; a protective instinct that had long since been dormant, shook back to life; retiring from its hibernation.
"I can't just leave you here like this." He tugged the bottom of his shirt over his thumb, guiding his finger gently under the the curve of her eyes. He wiped away her makeup without caring about the stain, he just shushed away her tears and didn't even ask why she'd been crying in the first place as he guided her to his car. "Come on, I know a place."
Zara followed beside him like a wounded puppy, too afraid to admit that her heart was beating bullets into her chest at the way his hand had wrapped hers. Billy opened her door for her, guiding her inside and reached down to prevent her purse strap from getting caught in the door.
Billy's car smelled like hot leather and his cologne, which wasn't that surprising, Zara supposed. But when she looked back into the second row of seats, she noticed a box on the floor filled to the brim with tapes and cassettes—there had to be at least sixty of them ranging from rock and metal, pop and she swore she'd even caught the corner cover of a hip-hop artist if she squinted. "Didn't peg you much for a back seat kinda girl."
"What?"
"What are you looking at back there? You find a thong or something?"
"No, it's just," Zara cleared her throat, tugging the hair tie from her head and leaving it at her wrist. "—you have so many tapes. I never imagined you'd even listen to some of this stuff." She's cautious when she picks up the first one, reading off a few titles of the songs on the back of an album she'd never even heard about before reaching for the next. "I'm impressed, you must be fun at karaoke nights."
