31. Indy

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Indy

" Y ou look so hot!" Janie squeals while Sunday runs her fingers through my long, straight hair.

"I feel like a set of pull-through braids will look good with this outfit," Sunday says as she gets to work while I look at myself in the mirror. I do feel cute in the white mini-dress. It stops my thigh with a white lace underneath. I paired it with sheer black dotted stockings and my Doc Martens. That, mixed with the hair, the smokey make-up Ren applied for me, and the cropped leather jacket, makes me feel attractive but also guilty.

"Should I look hot? I mean, this isn't a date." Ren snorts at my comment.

"You aren't doing this for him. You're looking good for you. You never go anywhere, and you've been having good days. You should feel sexy and go out."

"You wanna change your stud for a hoop?" Stevie calls from the jewelry area. We're all gathered in one of the piercing rooms, getting me ready. It's the easiest since I don't dare invite anyone over to Derek's, and Janie, Stevie, and I are already here.

"Oh! Yeah, can I?" I call excitedly. A silver hoop is what I've wanted this whole time, but I had to wait because Stevie is a stickler about proper piercing care.

"Technically? It would be best to wait six months, but it looks alright. If you start to notice anything weird, let me know, and we will change it back." She turns on the Autoclave sterilization machine while Sunday finishes my hair. I give my friends a nervous smile in the mirror.

"This isn't a date." Janie reminds me as she grips my arms. "You got this." Well, at least one of us is confident.

I walk out of the piercing room to head to the front of the shop, where my rideshare is about to pull up. I see my brother talking to Atlas as I make my way over.

"How's your face?" I ask while looking at his cheek. "You two idiots really need to stop wrestling," I mutter. It's ridiculous that Ash and Atlas are constantly acting like children.

"Damn, Indy, looking like a snack!" Atlas whistles, earning a shove from Ash. I blush and look away.

"Thanks," I mumble before walking through the area, stopping for a second and looking at the purple splatter on Derek's station. That's new and odd. Shaking off the thoughts I shouldn't be having out of my head, I walk to the front of the shop, ignoring my brother muttering something about me needing pants.

I'm so focused on my phone that I run right into someone's back. Strong hands grab me before I can fall, and I see it's Derek because, of course, it is.

"Holy fuck," he breathes before letting me go and looking me over a few times.

"Hey, sorry." I laugh lightly. The embarrassment of finding out the entire shop knows we had sex coming to the forefront of my brain. "I was focused on my phone."

"Where are you going?" His tone comes off more abrasive than I think he means it to by the wince on his face.

"Out with Liam. I told you yesterday. I'm taking a rideshare over to Quench to meet him now." I watch his face darken.

"Quench? The bar?"

"Yeah, what's the problem? It's not like it's some hole-in-the-wall biker bar. I think an old influencer friend of Janie's owns it."

"No. You shouldn't go to a bar alone. That's extremely unsafe." He states as if this is a closed subject.

"Um. I'm not going alone. I'm going with Liam." Derek snorts and rolls his eyes.

"Right, because Liam is supposed to make me feel better about you being in a bar dressed like that?" I flinch at his bitter words.

"Like what?" I ask, my voice suddenly small.

"You know, like what." It's almost a sneer in his tone. "You're dressed…"

"I'm going to stop you right there," I say with a shaky breath. "Because if you finish that sentence and use any kind of wording to insinuate that what I'm wearing is asking for anything. I'm not joking when I say I'll never speak to you again." I scowl up at him, my anger and hurt evident on my face. His shoulders fall as he rubs the back of his neck.

"Please don't say that," he whispers softly, and I hear the regret in his voice. "And stop scowling. It doesn't belong on your sweet face."

"Then stop putting it there." I grind out, refusing to allow him to get off that easily. "I love the jealous thing as much as the next girl. But you don't shame a woman for her clothing, Rowe. Especially when it's because you're the one with the esteem issue. Don't try to tear me down when you know how hard it is for me to feel even a little bit confident in myself."

"Indy," he grunts uncomfortably, and my phone alerts me that my ride is here.

"I'll talk to you later, Derek," I state coldly as I walk away, not bothering to give him a second glance, mainly because I'm hurt and embarrassed. The entire time I let the girls get me ready, in the back of my mind, all I wanted was for him to look at me and think I looked pretty.

Blinking away my tears, I text Liam to let him know I'm on the way.

I want to go home.

Liam's late. Hell, I was late. I had gotten into the rideshare only to realize I left my ID back at the house, and there was no way I would get past Quench's bouncer without it. I texted Liam to tell him I would be running about thirty to forty minutes late. I received no response, and I've been sitting here in the bar, alone for twenty minutes, still no texts from him. Things are starting to get uncomfortable. Three different men have hit on me, and I'm getting pity looks from the bartender as I stare down at my cheese sticks. I can't believe he ghosted me. It's not like I won't see him at the hospital.

God, this is so awkward.

"Hey." I jump when I hear Derek's voice and furrow my brows.

"What are you doing here?" I groan, embarrassed that he's seeing me being stood up. Derek stuffs his hands in his pockets. He looks almost shy.

"Well, I wanted to make sure your date went alright."

I roll my eyes. "It wasn't a date, and it's not happening." I bite into my cheese stick when it dawns on me why there is no Liam at my table. "Oh Derek," I groan while shaking my head. "You didn't."

Derek shrugs his shoulders. "Listen, I had every intention of letting this date happen." I give him a skeptical look. "I was at least going to let the dinner happen, but when I got here, you weren't here yet, but Dr. Douche was. He was flirting with the bartender and the waitress. He told the waitress if things didn't work with you, he would call her. How am I supposed to just let him sit with you when he doesn't deserve to lick the ground you walk on?"

I stare hard at him before pushing on the stool across from me. When he raises his brow, I shrug. "I'm not paying for this meal. A man is buying me these cheese sticks, and apparently, you scared the other one off. Oh god, you didn't hit him, did you?"

"No," he states quickly. "Wanted to, still do. But I refrained." I watch him let out a slight wince. "He mentioned something about complaining to the administration about you living with a dangerous man." I wave it off.

"I'm friends with one of the higher-ups. It's fine." I watch Derek sort of relax, and I do mean sort of. He jumps when the waitress comes around, and he keeps wiping his palms on his jeans.

"Alright Rowe," I smirk while sipping my drink. "You ran my date off, so show me what you got."

His cheeks redden as he looks at me with round eyes. "You said you weren't going on a date with him." Shrugging, I lean back in the chair.

"Eh, I change it depending on my needs."

"Evidently," he mutters before thanking the waitress for the bottle of beer. He looks ready to bolt. His eyes are everywhere, his knee is bobbing, and he cringes at the loud noises.

"Are you alright?" I ask, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table.

"Yeah." His voice is low and thick as he refuses to make eye contact.

"Hey," I give him a small smile while tapping his shoe with mine. "Wanna get out of here?" I offer, causing him to glance at me, his brows furrowing.

"I thought you wanted—" I wrinkle my nose and shake my head before giving him my best fake smile.

"I'm tired, and the food isn't that good."

Once we're in his Yukon and on the road, I let out a breath. "Are you alright?" I ask again, unsure of where he's at mentally. He looked so panicked back there.

"I'm fine," he mutters. Perfect, we are back to this. I'm about to resign myself to staring out the dark window when he looks over at me. "Are you alright?"

I give him my best smile. "Yeah," I manage, though I'm really not. Liam flirting with other women when I was heading to him humiliated me. I thought I looked pretty, but Derek's words earlier still played in my mind. Then, I couldn't get him to relax and talk with me. I thought about swimming, stargazing, ice cream, and the truck. He was so open talking to me then, but now, he just seems scared.

Derek pulls up into his driveway and parks the vehicle. "Don't lie to me, darlin'. If you don't want to talk about it, say that, but don't lie."

"How do you know I'm lying?" I furrow my brows.

"Besides the fact that you never give a one-word answer? For anything." He gives me a small smirk that sends butterflies to my belly. "Your dimples don't show when you're upset or trying to appease others." I blink slowly.

"My dimples?"

He nods. "It's how I know whether you're really happy or not."

My lip wobbles, and I turn to look away, unsure how to react. "Well," I breathe out. "That's not fair. You know how to tell if I'm happy, but I don't know how to tell if you are."

Derek huffs out a laugh. "Baby girl, that's easy,"

"What? You're never happy?" I roll my eyes and wait for his snarky remark until I see the look he's giving me. He's nervous again.

Derek takes a deep breath before looking me in the eyes. "I'm happy when I'm around you, and when you aren't there, I'm not." My mouth falls open, and I shake my head slowly.

"Don't," I hear the crack in my voice. "Don't say that when all you want is—"

"You." He finishes, and a squeak escapes me, causing him to chuckle. "Indy, I want you, I do. I don't deserve you—at all. But I want you."

"What about your rules? What about mine? What about how you acted like you wanted to run away at the bar?" He shrugs as his fingers play with the tips of my hair.

"I don't know. Everything in my head is screaming not to let you in. But even as it does, I know you've already planted a flag and set up a base camp." I laugh at his exasperated tone. "And as for your rules, I can't say anything about those, darlin'. You're an adult, and you make your own decisions. Just know these two things if you decide to adhere to your rules. First, you'll have to come up with a better excuse than being a burden because you aren't one, and I will start flicking you in the head if need be to rid you of those asinine thoughts. And second, you're not allowed to see other men."

I blink in confusion. "That sounds wrong. Why couldn't I see other men if we aren't really together?" He shrugs nonchalantly.

"I mean, you can try. But I will, without a doubt, beat the fucking hell out of each and every one of them."

I can't help the laugh that leaves me as I stare at him. "And what about how you were acting at the bar? You didn't act like someone that wanted to be around me. Do I really look that bad?"

His face falls, and he stares at me, eyes wide. "I didn't want to be in that bar. It was packed and loud, and the table was sticky, and there was a group of guys that kept looking at you, and it made me want to rip their throats out." He looks away, and my heart aches from the look on his face. I know what he's thinking about. He's thinking about his ex and how she didn't think he showed his feelings enough. "But god, Indy, you have to believe me when I say I am so sorry for earlier." He looks me up and down while releasing a breath. "Darlin', you're gorgeous, and I never want to be the reason you think otherwise."

"So we don't go to gross sticky bars." I shrug while giving him a smile. "I'm way more of a takeout and TV type of girl, anyway." I giggle as he visibly relaxes.

"So, my rules," I say, turning in my seat to face him better. He nods, giving me my full attention. "No long-term commitments. I don't want you declaring your love for me next week."

"Well shit, there goes my next date idea." He smirks, and I laugh while shoving him.

"I'm serious! No deep confessions of love! No pretty pebbles!"

"Indy, baby girl, we're not penguins. You gotta stop with the pebbles."

"Pfft… Trust me, I know. If we were penguins, I would already have my pebble." I pout, only partially serious.

"If we were penguins, your ass would've gotten eaten because you tried to befriend a fucking sea lion." I mull over his theory.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Alright, no pebbles, but I require furniture." His face falls.

"Well, this has been nice." He states as he hops out of the vehicle. I laugh and follow.

"Come on, Daddy!" I whine as I bounce beside him, watching his face twist at the name.

He groans. "Fine, but I have to see it first. Anything else?" I give him a massive grin.

"Well, there is one more thing,"