I swallow hard at the pained expression on his face, wondering if someone was cruel to him. I’m not brave enough to ask him, though.

  “I wish there was something I could do to help,” I say, reclining back in the seat.

  “You did help,” Benton reassures me, giving my knee a gentle squeeze.

  I give him a doubtful look. “But I haven’t done anything.”

  “Yes, you have,” he insists, leaving his hand on my knee. “You got us those invitations, which will allow us to get deeper into Drake’s world.”

  “Which is a good thing?” Because it seems like a scary thing to me.

  He bobs his head up and down, nodding. “The deeper into their world we get, the more we find out about how their system works, which will help lead us to more facilities.”

  “Don’t you ever get scared, though? I mean, Tank and Ralpho threatened to kill Jackson just because he told them a tiny lie.” I shudder at the thought.

  He massages my knee, causing me to shudder again, but in an entirely different way that confuses me. “We won’t let anything happen to you, Zhara. Me, Ridge, Jett, Jackson, Wilder, and Xavier are all going to protect you. That’s a promise. And I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  “But who’s going to protect you guys?” I ask worriedly.

  Benton looks from me to Xavier, his brow arching up. Xavier’s eyes travel to me and he assesses me with a baffled look on his face, as if I’m an alien or something. Then he shakes his head.

  “Okay, maybe you’re right,” he tells Benton, appearing even more befuddled.

  “Right about what?” I eyeball the two of them, sensing they’re talking about me.

  A smile curves at Benton’s lips. “That you’re a sweet girl.”

  I start to pout, but Benton gives my leg a delicate pinch.

  “No pouting, remember,” he warns, but his eyes sparkle with amusement.

  I blow out a dramatic sigh and cross my arms. “Fine. But that doesn’t mean I like being called sweet.”

  “Noted.” Benton’s grin grows as he glances at Xavier, who appears on the verge of almost smiling.

  I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile before, but when he notices me watching him, he hastily erases the amusement.

  I internally sigh, wondering if there will ever be a time when he warms up to me.

  “Totally off the subject, but I’m pretty sure my neighbor might be a Rogue,” Benton tells Xavier as he flips on the blinker to turn into my subdivision.

  Xavier slants forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because she made a discreet threat about overhearing some of us talking about certain things,” Benton explains. “She didn’t exactly say what those things were, but I got the impression it had to do with the organization.”

  “That fucking sucks. But we need to find out for sure before we make an arrest.” He rubs his hand across his short, dark hair. “Is she coming to your party?”

  “Well, she was until I uninvited her,” Benton says, slowing the car down for a stop sign.

  Xavier shakes his head. “Why the fuck did you do that? The whole point of having this party is so we could scope out your neighbors and try to figure out how many Rogues are living nearby.”

  So that’s why he’s having the party. Makes me wonder if all his other parties had ulterior motives.

  “Because she was being a bitch to Zhara,” Benton tells Xavier, his voice conveying a warning tone. “It was instinctive, so don’t give me any shit.”

  “Don’t give you any shit?” Xavier gapes at him. “You ruined our chance of figuring out who the Rogues are. Now we’re going to have to take the time to scope her out and we don’t have any extra time.”

  “Well, we’ll make time.” Benton glares at Xavier in the rear view mirror.

  I don’t like that they’re fighting, especially since the fight was caused by me.

  Swallowing hard, I straighten in my seat. “I’m sorry I caused a problem.”

  “You didn’t cause the problem. Brook did,” Benton promises me. “And Xavier knows that. He’s just being an ass.”

  “I’m being realistic, Xavier argues. “We don’t have any extra time to bug her place, go through her shit, and try to see if she’s marked.”

  “Marked?” I ask. “What’s that?”

  Benton removes one of his hands from the steering wheel and shoves up the sleeve of his jacket, showing me a circular tattoo weaved by vines and elaborate symbols. “Every team in the organization has their own mark and every member is required to tattoo the mark on their body so that other members can identify them.” He tugs down his sleeve and returns his hand to the steering wheel. “It’s one way that we can identify a Rogue, by finding their mark and looking it up in the system.”

  “Oh.” My brows dip. “Well, I’m not sure if it was a mark, but Brook did have this weird tattoo on her butt.”

  Benton’s attention whips in my direction, his brows springing up. “When the hell did you see her ass?”

  My cheeks glow with heat. “I didn’t see the whole thing. Her swimsuit bottom just slid down a little when she picked up her towel.” My face is so warm I’m seriously worried I might erupt in heat. “I thought you noticed.”

  His brow arches. “Why would I notice?”

  “Because… Don’t guys…” I grow flustered and start babbling. “I mean, guys check out hot girls butts all the time. At least they did with Taylor all the time. And Brook looks a lot like Taylor so I just assumed you were checking out her butt.” God, I’m such a spazz.

  Benton must think so too, because he chuckles. “You’re seriously adorable when you do that.”

  Great. Now I’ve gone from cute to sweet to adorable.

  “No, I’m not,” I argue. “And a lot of people would agree with me.”

  “No, I think you just think a lot of people would agree with you.” He extends a hand across the console and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “For the record, I didn’t check out Brook’s ass. But I’m glad you did.” He bites down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

  I narrow my eyes at him, but I’m having a hard time not laughing. “I didn’t check out her ass. She just bent over and her swimsuit started to fall down… And I…” Frustration stirs inside me as his grin widens. “It’s just one of those things that you can’t help looking at, like when someone is flashing a plumber’s crack.”

  Benton smashes his lips together, fighting back a laugh. Xavier appears amused too, his eyes glittering with laughter.

  I shake my head. Well, at least I got him to kind of smile.

  “Whatever.” I throw my hands in the air, giving up. “It doesn’t really matter. I just told you because I thought maybe the tattoo could be one of those marks. And if it is, you should probably know that my neighbor has the same thing tattooed on him.”

  Benton’s laughter dies. “Fuck.”

  I stiffen. “Is that bad?”

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “I’m not sure, but yeah, it could be.”

  He doesn’t elaborate as he pulls into the driveway of my house, leaving me to wonder just how bad it is that a Rogue is living next door to me.

  Distracting Kisses

  Zhara

  Wilder is sitting on the front steps of my house when we pull up, fiddling with his phone. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans, covered in zippers and the bottoms are tucked into a pair of thick, unlaced boots. The outfit is topped off with a long sleeved black shirt, a knitted cap, and leather bracelets. He looks gorgeous, but stands out and I wonder what my neighbors are thinking, if they’ll tell Loki about all the guys coming into the house. Honeyton town members are known for their gossiping. But I’ll just have to deal with that if the time comes because I really doubt the guys are going to let me out of their sight.

  “Took you guys long enough,” Wilder says as we hop out of the car. “I’ve been waiting here forever.”

  Benton r
olls his eyes. “Don’t be over dramatic. I know you’ve only been here for a few minutes.”

  “So?” Wilder stands to his feet and gives a glance at the sky. “It’s like a hundred degrees outside. I’m practically sweating my balls off.”

  I don’t know what sort of face I pull, but Wilder chuckles at my expression.

  “I think the word ‘balls’ makes Zhara uncomfortable.” Wilder comes up to me as I reach the stairway and drapes an arm around my shoulder. “You should probably get used to it, since Jett won’t stop calling me Blue Balls.” His lips tease upward. “Thanks to you.”

  My eyes narrow. “How was that my fault?”

  “Because the only reason he started the nickname was to defend you.” His eyes glimmer mischievously. “The entire situation could’ve been avoided if you had just let me call you Pink Cheeks.”

  “You wanted to call her Pink Cheeks?” Xavier questions with a bit of disgust on his face.

  “Yeah, so?” Wilder shrugs. “Have you ever seen her when she gets embarrassed?”

  Xavier shakes his head. “That doesn’t really explain why you’d try to give her what might be the stupidest fucking nickname I’ve ever heard.”

  “You think so?” Wilder teases then turns to me. The wicked gleam in his eyes makes me try to step back from him, but he tightens his hold on my shoulder, holding me in place. “You know what? I just realized that you never did admit that you liked my tongue ring.” His tongue slips out of his mouth and he flicks the piercing against his teeth a few times. “And I promised myself that I’d get you to admit it.”

  I think he might be trying to embarrass me so my cheeks will turn pink and Xavier will realize how fitting of a nickname Pink Cheeks is. The last thing I want is for all the guys to start calling me Pink Cheeks, so I fight the urge to get flustered, put my hands on my hips, and stare Wilder down.

  “That’s not going to embarrass me.” But my heart argues with my words, thrashing in my chest.

  He drags his piercing across his teeth again, a look of contemplation mixed with amusement rising on his expression. “Really?” He shrugs. “Guess I’m going to have to up my game then.”

  Without warning, he dips his head, fuses his lips to mine, and slips that dang pierced tongue into my mouth. For a wildly crazy heartbeat of a moment, I melt into the kiss. But then I remember that Benton and Xavier are standing right there and I jerk back, my eyes wide, my cheeks hotter than the damn heat wave Honeyton is having.

  “What was that for?” I sputter out in embarrassment.

  Wilder busts up laughing, grazing his knuckles across my cheek as he glances at Xavier. “Now do you get it?”

  Xavier shakes his head, his jaw set tight. “You seriously have no boundaries.”

  Wilder lifts a shoulder, shrugging. “Maybe you just have too many boundaries.” His eyes wander to me. “Besides, I don’t think Zhara minds.” He waits for me to say something.

  I open my mouth, but no words come out. I’m unsure if my silence is from not wanting to be mean and tell him I don’t like him kissing me whenever he wants to, or if deep down, I really like it when he kisses me. Then I mentally shake my head at myself, realizing how messed up my thoughts are.

  Three guys, Zhara. You’ve kissed three guys within the last hour.

  I swallow hard. Does that make me slutty, even if I’m only doing it as an undercover thing?

  I glance at Benton to see what he thinks about all of this. His eyes are trained on me, his expression indecipherable, which might be more unnerving than if he was disgusted with me.

  Tearing my gaze off Benton, I step out from underneath Wilder’s arm to open the front door and get everyone inside, before we give my neighbors more to gossip about. Like when Benton first came to my house, the guys start glancing at the photos of me and my family hanging on the walls. Not wanting them to see all the unflattering pictures of me, I usher them up to my room.

  Halfway up the stairs, Xavier gets a phone call and heads outside to answer it, muttering that he needs to talk to the caller in private. After he leaves, we go into my bedroom, but Benton asks to use the bathroom, so Wilder and me are left alone.

  Like when I was alone with Benton in my bedroom, nervousness ravels in my stomach. My nerves only escalate when Wilder stretches out on my bed and eyes over all the photos and posters on my walls, the books on my bookshelf, and my stuffed animals.

  “Your room reminds me of a princess’s room,” he states, tucking his arms underneath his head. “Maybe that’s what I’ll start calling you instead of Pink Cheeks.”

  “You want to call me princess?” I ask, lingering near the doorway.

  His lips quirk, his eyes glimmering. “What? It’s not that bad.”

  “No, it’s not,” I admit. “At least compared to Pink Cheeks. But why do you have to give me a nickname at all?”

  “Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t like it.” He pats the spot beside him. “Now, stop worrying and come sit down by me for a few minutes.”

  My pulse quickens with fear and excitement. “I’m supposed to be changing my clothes and then Benton is taking me to the training pit.”

  “I know. I’m going with you.” He pats the spot again. “But I promise you won’t get in trouble if you lie down with me for a second.” While he isn’t smiling, his eyes sparkle.

  He wants me to lie down beside him? On my bed!

  I want to tell him no, mostly out of fear, but apparently my feet have other ideas and carry me toward the bed. I tentatively lay down beside him, keeping some space between us. But he steals the distance, scooting toward me and slipping his arm underneath my head like a makeshift pillow. Then he plays with my hair, lightly tangling his fingers through his strands.

  “How are you doing with everything that happened this morning?” he asks, staring up at my ceiling.

  “I’m doing okay,” I say, wondering how much he knows about this morning.

  He turns his head toward me, meeting my gaze. “Okay is just a placement word when people don’t want to admit the truth.” With his free hand, he cups my cheek. “I know what happened with Tank and Ralpho and I know that had to be fucking scary as hell for you.”

  “How do you know about that?” I whisper, unsure whether I feel ashamed or just confused.

  One side of his mouth pulls into a half smile. “The first thing you should know about us is that we know everything.”

  “But how?”

  “Because we’re super smart,” he teases with a wink.

  I resist an eye roll. “No, really. How did you know about what happened? Did someone tell you?” I can’t remember Benton or Xavier being on their phones much when we were in the car, but maybe they texted everyone about what happened.

  He shakes his head. “Nah. We just have cameras in the parking lot and I was with Ridge, watching surveillance footage when Tank and Ralpho showed up.”

  My lips form an o, warmth rushing to my cheeks. So, not only did Tank and Ralpho watch me make out with Benton and Xavier, but Ridge and Wilder saw it.

  “You don’t need to be embarrassed, princess.” His lip twitches at the nickname.

  I shake my head, but don’t protest, since I have bigger things to worry about at the moment.

  “You did well in the situation,” he continues while tracing his finger across my cheekbone. “And we needed you to do good because getting those invitations was important. Not to mention Jackson would’ve been in some deep shit.”

  “I was really nervous,” I admit. “And I’m still a little nervous about talking to Tank and Ralpho again tonight.”

  “That’s not going to happen tonight.”

  “But they said I had to.”

  “Yeah, but that was before the distraction.”

  “What distraction?” I ask curiously.

  He sketches a path across my jawline and my eyelashes involuntarily flutter. He totally notices too and a smile rises at his lips.

  “It’s better if you don’t know,” he tel
ls me. “But I promise you that you won’t have to talk to them tonight. All you need to do for now is focus on going to the training pit and seeing your sister.”

  I nod, hoping he’s right. That nothing else will happen. Still, my anxiety isn’t completely gone. There are so many unanswered questions about my family. Not to mention, my neighbor might be a Rogue. Plus, Drake invited me to his masquerade ball, which means that in the future I’m going to have to meet another drug lord.

  Sensing my worry, he strokes my cheek with his fingers. “Everything will be fine, princess. I promise you.”

  “You make a lot of promises,” I tell him.

  His brow quirks. “And have I broke a single one yet?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “See. So, if I say you’ll be fine, you will.”

  I nod, but doubt weighs on my shoulders.

  Wilder sighs. “You know what, I think you need a distraction.” He mulls over something then a wicked smile curls at his lips. “And I think I have the perfect idea.” He leans in, as if to kiss me.

  I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. “What’re you doing?”

  “Kissing you.” Hilarity rings in his tone. “Wasn’t that obvious?”

  “Yeah, but what isn’t obvious is why?”

  “I already said—to distract you, which FYI, kissing and tongue rings can be very distracting.” A playful smile tugs at his lips. “I thought it was pretty obvious what I was doing, but apparently I need to work on my game.” He winks at me. “Don’t tell Jackson I said that, though.”

  I can’t help but smile. But the smile fades as he leans in to kiss me. I could move away. In fact, I probably should. But instead, I lie there, watching his lips near mine, and secretly kind of wanting to kiss him. I don’t know what kind of girl that makes me. A bad one? A confused one? The answer is unclear and the question disappears the instant his lips softly touch mine.

  But as quickly as the kiss started, his lips are leaving mine.

  “Fuck.” He jumps off the bed and rushes toward the window.

  Dazed and confused, I sit up, worried I did something wrong. But then I see a red light shining through the window and realize something is really wrong.