Heathens & Hold Ups (Book 2 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 15- Callie

"Not even a little detail? You, out of all of them, know I can keep a secret," I lean over the console and say in his ear while I turn down the pulsing music.

"Sorry CC. No can do. I'm sworn to secrecy. No details mean you don't have to worry about lying. Ugh, I hate saying this," he ruffles his hair and grips the back of his neck, trying to avoid my face, "but it really is for your own good."

Leaning back into my seat, I can't help stewing. He's absolutely right, but I know myself. My anxiety is going to have me coming up with a billion scenarios, each one wilder than the last until Friday. Three days is more than enough to drive yourself crazy.

"I'm guessing y'all are gonna go radio silent on me again?"

"Yeah, though you can message us on the burner in case of emergency. A random emoji will do. I have it set up to notify me whenever it's powered up. I don't want you feeling alone again. Anddon't forget, you'll need this," he says, passing over the gold bracelet. It'scute in an unassuming way. I slip it into my pocket so I don't forget. 

He listened, I smile to myself. Out of all of them, I was least mad at Dario. Hurt was his primary sin. "Okay."

A moment passes before he turns the music back up and focuses his attention back on the road. With them no longer hiding themselves from me, it's easier to recognize the roads we take back to my place. No wonder they all got quiet our first car ride. Grayson county looks much like every other county around it, but I know these roads and fields. The guys have been hiding closer to home than anyone would guess. It suddenly makes way more sense why Riggs and Kace don't leave the bunker too often. They'd give some someone a heart attack, convinced the rapture was imminent what with the ghost of the dead wandering back home.

Allowing my brain time to shut off and just enjoy Dario's presence is nice. I can almost imagine a future where a car ride with him is commonplace and I can text him to let him goodnight after a date, smiling and blushing at my phone as I drift off into sleep.

It's not that long before we're turning into the parking lot of my apartment. Cars have that effect on me. I'm the worst navigator on road trip, likely to be asleep by the fifth song on the playlist, second if they're Bohemian Rhapsody length. I do my best to subtly rub at my mouth in case I mouth breathed. Drool is not the worst thing, but I'd rather not leave him with that quaint mental image.

"You good Callie babe?" He chuckles at my dazed, slow movements.

"Clearly my mother's efforts to get me to bed with long car rides didn't go to waste," I shrug. "Plus, your music is easy to sleep to, all repetitive and primal; it knocks me right out."

"You know what else would knock you right out," he asks, leaning his body over the console until all I can breathe is his spicy cinnamon and cloves scent with that sweet aftertaste that is all him.

I nibble on my lower lip and wait for him to make a move.

"That sounded way better in my head," he turns away, shaking his head. "God, that sounded ominous. Does this towel smell funny to you?" He mutters to himself. "What I was trying to say..."

I silence him with a kiss, devouring his words and the strawberry taste clinging to his tongue, pulling him closer by the nape of his shirt. A hum starts low in his chest, rising along with his arms, wrapping around me and pulling me close, bumping against the console between us.

"I can't wait for you to knock me out Super Boy. Just maybe leave the chloroform at home?" I tease him with a twitch of my nose. "Somnophilia isn't my thing, though not sure it counts since it's more drugged sleep than natural," I keep going, completely lost on this tangent.

"Do I want to know why you know what that is?" He questions with a laugh.

"It's Nicole's fault. We started trading book recommendations during my dick drought and one thing lead to another and no I know more about my best friend and various types of kinks than I ever needed to know. If you can think it, it exists," I shudder at the memory of some of the trigger warnings I had to look up and remember that Dario has seen my search history.

The warm twinkle in his eyes says more than enough. I cut him off with another kiss before he can confirm or deny anything. "Nope. We are never discussing anything you may or may not have discovered in my search history."

"Are you sure about that," he teases, his kisses trailing done my jaw. "Because there are plenty of things I saw that deserve further discussion." He kisses the base of my neck, sucking just enough that tingles shoot up my spine, but not hard enough that I'll need color corrector tomorrow. "I could list them." He licks and kisses his way up to my ear. "The lifestyle forums," he whispers and punctuates with a kiss just beneath my ear. "The color coded, detailed diagrams." He tilts my chin up with a crooked finger so that I'm staring up into his molten brown eyes, like fresh brownie batter. "Yup. We'll have so much to discuss next time Callie Girl," he chuckles as he leans back into his seat.

"Oh, you are so back on the naughty list Rossi," I narrow my eyes at him.

"Last naming me? That's a low blow." Hand over his heart, he takes a fake shot, then a second, crashing dramatically into the driver's door.

"You'll live," I scoff, opening my door. "Drive safe," I wave as I exit.

He sits parked as I make my way to my building and he watches until he sees me wave from my window before throwing the car in drive and heading back to the bunker.

Crashing on my couch, I kick off my shoes, undo my ponytail and take off my bra, tossing into somewhere in the vague direction of my bedroom.

Freedom.

I shoot off a text to Kinsley at the animal shelter to see if I can pick up a shift sometime this week. I've got a poker game with Aunt Rachel on Thursday, but I'm free tomorrow and hopefully still will be after Friday. The less free time I have the better. No free brain space to overthink things, that's the goal for the next two days.

Barely fifteen minutes pass and I've already come up with about twenty different scenarios that end in various combinations of the guys and I dead, arrested, or both. No time like the present to use up some of those ridiculous bath bombs that Nicole insisted I needed. I pour myself a glass of cheap wine, add a couple of ice cubes, tie my hair up in a messy bun after massaging the living hell out of my scalp, and sink into the purple, glittery mess; a lavender haze themed bath bomb of course.

We may have gone overboard in buying themed gifts for our Midnights' release party since there was no way we were getting tickets, even with her much higher credit limit. Mother Taylor has gotten me through a lot. Doubt she'd expect to be getting me through a possibly five-way relationship and revenge plot. Well, maybe less surprised about the revenge plot. There's nothing she does better, but definitely the poly thing.

Still kind of vague on whether it would be poly since the guys aren't into each other. At least, I'm mostly sure. Not that I would have a problem with it if they were, just don't get that vibe from them. Doesn't stop my subconscious from wondering. Like Dario so casually reminded me, there were lots of very detailed diagrams when I was researching the possible ways this could work out.

"Ugh"! I slap the water, splashing it everywhere and groaning again at the thought of cleaning it up. Stupid Dario, getting me all hot and heavy, and then pulling a Houdini. I can't think straight when I want to get off.

Drying off gives me enough time to come up with a solid solution. A year's worth of sexual frustration was plenty of time to amass a varied collection of toys. Flopping onto my bed, I lean over to my nightstand and reach for whatever's closest. "Surprise me," I tell the drawer.

My fingers scrape against the bottom. Then the side. Then the other side. Empty. Withdrawing my hand, I try again in some futile attempt at a different result.

Breathe Callie. This is not an emergency. You do not need to turn it on. Don't let them have power over you.

Screw any inner calm trying to rationalize this. This is war. I power up the burner phone and send two emojis, a knife and an eggplant.

It isn't until the wee hours of the morning that I get any response back and it's just a face crying with laughter.