Guilty (A Ghost Bird FanFiction)

8. Thief in the Night

Luke

When it came to impulse control, mine was usually pretty good — no matter what "evidence" North claimed to have to the contrary.

But when it came to the surprise that was Sang Sorenson, I was willing to admit that maybe he was right.

It would at least help to explain why I'd drafted nearly twelve different text messages to her since we'd parted ways this afternoon. None of them sounded right, though. Trying to find the right tone to ensure she knew I was super-interested and not stalker-interested had me second-guessing everything.

Case in point: the wallet. What if she didn't find it until she was back in Pennsylvania? Or what if she didn't see it until months later, after she'd already fallen for some guy who was actually in insurance?

Or worse — what if she never found it?

Which was the thought that had me ducking into the club's VIP bathroom for some space to think this all through. I ignored the repetitive rap song that had somehow permeated the walls as I studied the latest draft I'd been crafting for nearly six hours:

Hey, it's Luke. That blond guy who may or may not have caused you headache over the last 24 hours. 😉How long will you be in SC? I was thinking of heading your way to visit my uncle and wondered if you wanted to grab lunch or something.

It was probably too long. Or was the emoji too much? I was tempted to get feedback from my brothers, but North's inquisition earlier made me hesitate. That and the fact that I was texting her from a new number. I couldn't even be honest about why I'd had to dump my old phone in the first place.

Yet another reminder of why we'd established the rule. I sighed, leaving the message in my drafts. Maybe North and the others were right. Sang deserved nice. Normal.

I heard the door open and I looked up, unsurprised to find Nathan. He checked to make sure we were alone before glaring at me. "Did you turn your earpiece off?" he accused.

"I needed to think," I muttered. I tucked my phone away, pretending to dry my hands on the leather pants Gabe had threatened me into wearing tonight. He'll probably kill me when he finds them on the floor later.

"Is it about that girl?" I didn't bother answering, instead making to move past him. He stepped in front of me, his gaze determined. "Luke. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Is Rafael here?" I continued, trying to change the subject.

I knew he wanted to press me on it, but after a moment he sighed, taking a step back. "Yeah," he finally replied. "He walked in about five minutes ago. We've got to hurry, since I'm betting he'll probably escape with one of those models any minute now."

Those models — and the two newest male inductees into the world of reality television they were orbiting — were exactly who I'd also been trying to avoid. Even though our current job centered on E!'s newest reality stars, after spending less than two hours getting to know Cooper and Jack, who were entitled, cocky, and prone to drowning themselves in shots of top shelf tequila, my expectations weren't too high for their friend.

That alternate universe Sang and I had cooked up sounded pretty great right about now.

I followed Nathan out of the VIP area of the low-lit club as I turned my earpiece back on, navigating through the crowd with ease. "He's up ahead," Nathan was saying. I spotted him easily. Tall, hair that probably took an hour to style, a slim-fitting black suit jacket. "Can you get to him?"

He was surrounded by people, but all of them were either drunk or on their way there. "Getting to him isn't the problem," I replied, noticing Silas and Kota close ranks around him. Nathan dropped back into the crowd as I studied Rafael, quickly spotting the depression in his right pants pocket. Easy.