I don’t know what my face looked like as I sprung up and grabbed Blake’s collar, jerking him with me, but he was certainly petrified. “Get up!” I screamed at him while he scrabbled to his feet.
“I—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” was all he could mutter.
“You will be sorry, you little—!”
“Chloe!”
It was Taylor. He had parked at an angle in the middle of the road and left his car door wide open. As he approached us at a run, I went from raving mad to giddy with joy. “Finally.” I smiled as Taylor seized Blake’s arms. I was so thankful I would’ve kissed him if I wasn’t holding Blake.
“It’s okay, Chloe, I’ve got him now.” I hadn’t realized how much larger Taylor was until I saw the two cousins side by side. He gently eased my fingers’vise-like grip on Blake. “What’s wrong, Blake? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Taylor shook his head. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you rule number one? Don’t mess with a redhead.”
I glared at Blake. “Or her family.”
“Chloe, do me a favor and pull Blake’s keys out of his jacket pocket. He isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
My eyes bored into Blake’s as I jammed my hands into his jacket pocket. One dimple appeared, and Blake no longer looked afraid. In fact, he looked downright happy that I was this close to him. I thought I was going to hurl.
Blake’s eyes smoldered as he smiled at me. “You eighteen yet?”
Taylor lost it. He jerked Blake back from me just as my hands closed around the keys. “You talk to her again and I’ll kill you,” he growled. “Then I’ll let Chloe have what’s left.”
The fear was back.
I went to hand the keys to Taylor, but he shook his head. “I’ll come by later tonight with my dad. I’m sure your parents are going to want to talk to him anyway. One of us will drive this pervert’s truck home then.”
“Okay.”
“Come on, Blake, let’s make a trip to the hotel. Dad’s there at the moment, and I think he’d like to see you.” Taylor jerked on Blake’s arms and headed back toward his car. Wisely, Blake remained silent.
And then it hit me. Cassidy. I spun around and saw her standing there, her eyes huge. I took a step toward her and she flinched. “What’s going on, Chloe? I’ve never seen you so mad before.”
“Are you okay?”
She shakily walked up to me and asked, “Is—is Blake in trouble?”
“Come here.” I put my arm around her. “Cass, are you gonna tell me where he said you were going to go?”
“Just to a movie. Honest.”
“On a date?” I watched as Taylor loaded Blake into his car. I could tell he was aggravated and barely containing his temper. He walked around the front and waved to us briefly before climbing in.
“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to know, because you’d tell Mom. I’m sixteen in like three weeks. It’s so not fair I can’t date now.”
Taylor’s car revved to life. Bemused, I watched as the sun glinted off its sleek blue roof before it sped away. Cassidy and I headed back toward the house. “Believe me, Blake is not the type of guy you want to be dating.”
“Why? Because you like him?” she defensively asked.
“No. I did like him, Cassidy, but I don’t now. Blake’s not my type.” Our feet sunk into the sand as we passed the playground equipment. “Seriously, he’s not yours, either. You’ve got it all wrong. Blake was in court last year for drugging a fifteen-year-old and taking advantage of her.”
“No way.” Cassidy glanced up.
“Yes.” I nodded my head. “I think he was planning to do it again with you. Thank goodness Taylor checked out his Facebook profile and warned me.”
“Oh my gosh.” Cass stumbled a bit as we headed onto the sidewalk.
“How did he contact you?” I asked.
“He found me on Facebook,” she mumbled. “Do you think Mom’s going to kill me?”
I chuckled. “Probably.” We crossed the street, this time checking for traffic.
“You think it’s going to be bad, then?”
“Ah, nothing more than your typical ‘grounded for life.’”
Cass moaned.
I squeezed her shoulder as we started up the driveway. “Hey, no matter what happens, I’m just grateful you’re safe.”
She sighed. “How much do you think we owe Taylor?”
Everything. No matter how much he will try to deny it, Taylor Anderson truly is a superhero.
Twenty-Three
Random Rumor
So you want to know what’s worse than being up half the night talking to the Andersons, your parents, and the media? Yep, someone at the hotel leaked the story to the press. You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you. It was going to school Friday morning— dead tired and fully exhausted, walking around like a zombie— and overhearing that Taylor had a date to prom. Not that it mattered, because it didn’t. I mean, duh, he’s Taylor Anderson, right? So why should it bother anyone at all that he had a date? I mean seriously, there is no one who would care less than me.
Except that’s what I didn’t get. I did care! What was I thinking, anyway—that he’d miraculously start loving me again because he saved my sister? Yeah, right. He was probably more disgusted with us than anything. I mean, hello? Better stay away from the Hart sisters—talk about trouble. One’s got a temper and will rip your head off for crossing her, and the other is so flirtatious she’ll start dating anyone she meets on the internet.
So it’s obvious, I decided. I will never see Taylor again. I get it. I blew it. And really, it is a good thing. Because who wants to be popular anyway? It’s so highly overrated, it’s a joke. I certainly don’t want to be. I don’t, really. I just want the guy behind the popularity.
I stopped walking to my art class as the reality of that last thought hit me. I had just admitted to myself that I liked Taylor Anderson, and I was flabbergasted. Oh my gosh. How much more blinded by fear and pride could I have been? I was totally afraid to have my heart broken by another popular jerk, and too proud to see that there was actually a different Taylor Anderson—a real, sweet, caring Taylor Anderson beneath all the popularity. I finally realized I actually preferred the guy behind what everyone else saw.
And to think he used to love me. Me.
“Hey, Chloe.”
I turned to see Madison jogging to catch up. “Yeah?” I half smiled and began to walk again as she joined me.
“Wow, so I heard about Blake. How are you doing? Why didn’t you say anything?”
I guess now would be a good time to point out that the school had also been talking about Cassidy and Blake. Not that I blame them. I mean, it made the 10:00 news last night and the local newspaper this morning. It was such a hot story that it almost trumped Taylor asking a girl to prom. Almost.
I shrugged at Madison. “There comes a point when you have talked to so many reporters that you get tired of talking about it, you know? I figured most people know anyway.”
“Well, how’s Cassidy? Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she woke up with a raging fever this morning. I think the stress of last night might’ve added to everything. I mean it’s pretty embarrassing to have strangers and your parents go through all of your Facebook messages, phone texts, and emails, especially when you have to answer questions about every one. Cass was up later than I was, and I went to bed way after midnight. But I think she’ll be okay—much better than she could’ve been.”