Devious Minds (30 page)

“Of course I love you.” I slid my hands to his cheeks, rolling my thumbs under his watery eyes. “So much it kind of pisses me off.”

He softly laughed and buried his head into my chest, squeezing me to him. “You love me more than gummy bears?” he teased, jerking his head toward the open bag across the room.

“More than those gummy bears. I love the red ones, and you taped them all to the wall outside.”

Gray tickled my sides until I started laugh-crying. Then he stopped and lightly pushed me down across the bed. He moved to straddle me, and I closed my eyes, expecting his hands to ride up my dress.

Instead, I felt his face hovering just above mine. “I love you, Sydney.” He gave me a light kiss on my forehead. “So you better get used to me being around.”

I nodded just as an embarrassing snort escaped.

“Good.” He kissed the tears from my cheeks. “Because you’re kind of my favorite person, and you’re the only girl I know with ears small enough to balance mine out in the gene pool.” He paused, laying a soft kiss on my lips, and I opened my eyes. “Plus, Sunday Lane told me you’ll be needing a bodyguard.”

“I’ll be needing an army,” I said on a laugh.

Gray smiled and leaned in, tracing my lips with his. “But I need a favor from you.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to stay.”

I nodded again, giving him my silent promise. “Well, you’re in luck, because I just transferred here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“
C
heck under
Gray Peters
.”

The bouncer skimmed his metal clipboard. “Nope, no Gray Peters,” he grumbled, glancing behind me at the long line of antsy clubbers. “Any other name?

Chance waited for me next to the glass double doors. He looked pissed. He was impatiently tapping his foot against the concrete, and I knew he was eager to get inside. He’d been coming here with me for weeks. Grumbling and reluctant at first, but once he saw what the girls wore here, he placed Nirvana on a special green Post-it in his closet. Green Post-its are top priority.

“Try
Snake
,” I said, and the bouncer dragged a finger down the page. I turned toward Chance. “Where the hell is Fernando? He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.”

Chance shrugged. “Said he was getting ready.”

No sooner had he spoken, when a yellow cab pulled up and a certain chubby offensive lineman in a blue rayon pantsuit hopped out. Chance and I couldn’t keep straight faces as Fernando fingered the thick gold chains he was wearing, and he stepped up to the bouncer.

“What the hell, Fernando? Did you rob a parachute factory?”

Ignoring my quip, he turned to the bouncer. “Fernando Cruz,” he said, wearing a confident smirk.

The bouncer gave him a onceover and skimmed the list. “Yep, you’re on the list. Go ahead.” He glanced back to me. “No Snake, sorry, man.”

I growled and mumbled out the words, “Check under
micro-dick
.”

The bouncer smiled and raised an eyebrow. “What was that?” He cupped his hand behind his ear.

“Check under
micro-dick
,” I yelled over the noisy crowd, and an explosion of laughter came from the line behind me.

“Nope.”

“Man, come on. I’ve been coming here practically every Saturday for four months. My girl works here.”

He took a step back and chuckled. “I know, but you’re not on the list.”

Snatching the clipboard from his hands, I skimmed the page. “There I am.”

“That says
Gary
Peters.”

“Yes, well, some genius messed up the spelling.”

“You calling me a genius?” He pulled his shoulders up, flexing his three hundred-pound frame.

“Yes,” I squeaked out.

“Get inside, micro-dick.” He pushed me aside, and I made my way toward my boys.

“Seriously, Fernando, what the hell?” I tugged on his silky jumpsuit. It was already darkening with pit stains. “Did you order this from a hot air balloon catalog? Better stay away from open flames.”

“Yes,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “Had some extra cash to burn.”

Fernando was still sore over the doghouse party months ago. I’d ordered a keg and invited the entire second floor of the athletic dorm over just so Sydney and I could be alone. He stayed in his room for days, depressed because the hungry masses discovered the boxes of rocket dogs in the garage. I had to pay him back at market price.

“Don’t tell me that cost you three hundred dollars.” I shook my head and followed Chance and Fernando into the club. “‘Cause you got suckered.”

Immediately, Sydney’s music hit my ears. Calling out my name. Not literally, but figuratively, because she played this mix for me last week, pestering me with a million technical questions. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I told her everything she does is magic and not to worry. That got me a playful swat in the gut and a long, satisfying
thank you
under the sheets.

But I wasn’t lying. It was magic. And the only thing more beautiful than her music was Sydney up in that balcony, jumping her little heart out to the roar of hundreds of fans.

After spying a group of near-naked girls, Chance bolted into the crowd. Fernando grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the bar. “Let’s get a drink. I’m nervous.”

We stopped in front the long concrete bar top, and Darryl gave me an acknowledging nod.

“Hey, Darryl, decided to change it up?” I asked as the steam punk bartender grabbed the whiskey off the top shelf.

He turned, glanced at Fernando with wide eyes, and grabbed three glasses. “Yeah, well, I fell asleep last weekend with my head gear on, and when I woke I’d nearly cut out my eyeball.” Turning to the side, he showed me a long gash next to his right eye.

“I guess clock gears should be left on the nightstand,” I said, pulling out my wallet. “Those old-timey aviator goggles bring out your eyes, though.”

He pulled the goggles down over his eyes and winked. “You think so?” He shook his shotgun peg leg. “Doctor told me to stop wearing this too.”

“What? No way.” I pointed down at his leg. “What if the apocalypse happens? You’re as good as ready, man.”

“Don’t I know it.” He nodded and glanced up at the balcony. “Your girl’s been on fire tonight. Hers is on the house, as always.”

Fernando and I made our way up the steep steps toward the DJ booth.

“I’m so nervous,” he whispered, taking a quick sip of his whiskey. “What if they hate me?”

Bullet, the bouncer at the top of the stairs (Yes,
Bullet
… God, these bouncer names) said a quick hello and let us pass. Just like Sydney’s first time up here, Fernando stopped, gaping at the crowd. At least four hundred people below were dancing in rhythm to DJ Sinister.

I watched Sydney for a minute. She was back in baggy jeans and a tank top, with her dad’s trucker hat on and a low ponytail down her back. As she danced, it swished from side to side, offering me a glimpse of my favorite tattoo. Creeping up behind her, I wrapped my arms around her waist. Now familiar with my grasp, she leaned back and moaned, rubbing her hips suggestively.

“Bullet, really. I told you we can’t do this now. My boyfriend will be here any minute.”

I smiled and pulled her hair to the side, kissing just under her chin. “Bullet have moves like this?” I thrust my hips to her, and she laughed.

“No, he’s usually rougher with me.” She flipped around and wrapped her arms around my neck. “But he sure doesn’t kiss like you.”

I was in heaven for ten seconds, hungrily kissing the woman I hadn’t seen all day. Twenty-four hours was too long to be away from her.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Fernando interrupted, pulling a pair of black shades from some unknown crevice. “DJ Crazy Cruz is in the house.”

Sydney tore from my arms and pulled an arm across his wide back.

DJ Crazy Cruz?
Fernando was an idiot. A happy idiot. But still an idiot that was about to get his ass handed to him in front of hundreds.

“Come on,
Crazy
.” She led him toward the booth, and I took a step back, watching her orient him to the controller. When he finally nodded, she gave him a pat on the back and grabbed the mic. “DJ Crazy Cruz in da club! Laying beats for the next seven minutes. Be nice!”

Fernando settled into whatever groove he has, and she turned, running straight into my arms. She jumped and wrapped her legs around my waist, and we moved into the shadows against the balcony wall.

“Excited to see me, Sinister?” I teased, running my hand over her tank top. I stopped when I felt something lumpy under her shirt. “What’s this?”

“Della sent it to me.” She pulled out a stone hanging from a chain around her neck. “It’s a moonstone. She said it’s for new beginnings and that everything—”

“Everything is a part of a cycle of change.” I finished her sentence, brushing my lips against hers. “She sent me one too. And it’s for happiness,” I added, grinning down at her.

“Yeah, and for easy childbirth,” Sydney said, exaggerating a shiver through her bones. “She could’ve left that description off the note.”

I nodded. Probably a bad time to tell her Mom’s already planning our wedding on Pinterest. “Yes, she needs a new hobby, but I also hear moonstones make girls agree to move in with their boyfriends for the summer.”

Sydney smiled and dramatically rolled her eyes. “I was going to say
yes
anyway. Now that Allison’s gone, it’s lonely, and Jack wants his own space. Apparently, he doesn’t need his big sister around anymore.”

Allison had moved into Kappa Delta. Under new leadership, of course.
Somehow
a scandalous sex recording was slipped under the dean’s office door with an anonymous note. The evil reign of Katharine DeSonna came to an abrupt end. She was kicked out of the Greek system. But she was still around, scheming in the shadows.

I had to admit, I was scared for Sydney after coming clean over the air, but the repercussions hadn’t been too bad. A couple of slashed tires (luckily, she had an extra set) and a few empty threats from the Panhellenic, but she managed to obtain something she refers to as their “emergency exits,” so they backed off.

Mainly, people congratulated her. They actually agreed with the things she said, with the exception of her claims against #24 Gray Peters, or so I’d like to think.

“Jack will always need his big sister, but when you have a girlfriend, especially as high maintenance as Allison, they seem to take over your life. You have to bring them coffee all the time. Buy them tampons from the st—”

“That happened once,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes playfully. “And you bought the wrong thing.”

She was right. Did happen once. I sat on the grocery store floor for a half hour, reading the labels on all the boxes. I was upset Sydney was at risk for something called toxic shock syndrome, so I followed an old lady down the aisle and she showed me female incontinence products. I thought they did the same job. Turns out I was dead wrong.

“The important part is I’d do it again, Sinister.” I brushed her hair behind her ear.

She laid her warm cheek against my chest. “I know.” Her soft voice was laced with emotion. Then she gave me a gentle squeeze. I knew that voice and I knew that touch, and I felt the same way.

Sydney was once my worst enemy but was now my best friend. She now was a regular at the middle school, teaching music to the kids while I taught art. She was my partner in crime and now in life… I know, cheesy.

“DJ Crazy Cruz isn’t half bad,” she said, reluctantly pulling away from me.

“That’s because he has a talented teacher.” I lowered her to the floor. “Who I happen to love. Think she’s cute. Has a nice rack. Enjoys horror movies and Pringles.”

“Always falls for dumb jocks,” she added, and I swatted her butt.

Fernando turned toward us and pointed to his headset, signaling the end to our seven minutes.

“Time to get back to the grind.” Sydney grabbed my hand, pulling me to the booth. “Gonna dance with me? You’re getting better. Maybe this time you won’t end up riding a cab all night.”

She laughed as I circled my arms around her waist. “I dunno, but I suppose it’s better than wearing an Iron Man costume all night.”

Wearing a fake frown, she poked me in the gut, but I saw that gorgeous smile tucked right underneath. I pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “But I love your devious mind.”

A full wicked grin erupted on her face, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, bringing me close for a gentle kiss. “And I love yours.”