Out of My Mind (COMPLETED)

Chapter Twenty-One

Mia's POV
On the way to Brayden's house from school, Brayden called Alastair and told him that we think we have a lead on a plan for how to get Sky back. He seemed hesitant at the idea of us having a plan but Brayden reassured him that there's a chance it will work successfully.

When he ends the call, he puts his phone in the cup holder, lacing his fingers with mine. With his left hand holding mine and my phone in the other, he scrolls through the thousands of songs on my phone. From my peripheral, I see his finger stop. Then I see a teasing smirk play on his lips.

"You listen to rap?" The question makes me glance over at him, offended.

"What, is there some rule that forbids girls like me to listen to rap?" I fire back at him.

"No," he laughs. "I just didn't pick you as the type." He runs his thumb over the soft spot between my thumb and forefinger.

"Well, you don't seem like the type to shout the wrong lyrics to a One Direction song either. I guess that prevents you from being listed under the 'Typical Guy' category, huh?"

"I could say the same about you," he says gently, a toothy smile lighting up the small space of the car. I feel the heat rush up into my cheeks and I try to hide my face with my hair but the look on his face tells me he already saw my blush. "You're cute when you blush." As if my cheeks weren't already blushing, they blush deeper.

"You're not helping, Bray," I say, playfully. He lifts my hand to his lips, kissing the top cautiously, like I may backhand my own boyfriend for trying to kiss my hand. Instead of pulling away quickly, he leaves his lips pressed against my hand. He's lucky I have good focus, otherwise we'd get in a car wreck due to the way he's surging lava through my veins.

As I pull onto Brayden's street, he pulls my hand from his lips, resorting our conjoined hands to my lap where they were. His fingers are resting on my leg, turning the skin under my jeans to gooseflesh like I stepped outside in just shorts during winter.

How I pulled into Brayden's driveway, I'm not sure, but before I know it, Brayden has his hand on the small of my back, guiding me into his house.

"Dad?" Brayden calls out as we slip off our shoes.

There's barely three seconds of silence before Alastair replies: "Living room!"

We walk to the open sliding doors that lead to the living room and find Alastair sitting on the couch, glasses fixed upon his nose and a closed book in his hand. For the first time since I've met him, he actually looks his age.

"Well, let's not waste any time, son. Spill the beans," Alastair says, impatiently, using his hand to gesture towards the couch opposite of the one he's sitting on. We both sit down.

"Mr. Gray—"

"Call me, Alastair, please. 'Mr. Gray' makes me feel like an old man." Alastair physically shudders and I don't mean to crack a smile, but I do.

"Alastair," I correct. "We think we could us Adrian to our advantage."

Alastair is silent for a few seconds, a quizzical expression etched onto his face. "I'm not sure I follow," he says, looking between Brayden and me. I look to Brayden, who's lounging with his arm behind me and his leg crossed over his knee. When his eyes meet mine, I jerk my head slightly toward his dad, mouthing, "Help me."

"What Mia is trying to say—" Brayden's eyes drag from mine to his fathers. "—is that in order to bring Donovan and Sky to us, we need to take something of his. Something useful to him."

Alastair's eyes narrow, trying to figure out what he means, and then the lightbulb goes off in his brain. His eyes widen in what looks to be surprise, but could pass as fear.