Chapter 9 Sierra
NINE
SIERRA
Istudy Crane on the Uber home, wondering why I’ve blown off Jaden to leave with him.
I mean, a sexy college guy with a mysterious allure is always going to win over the guy who tells you he wants to “fuck the ass off you,” but this guy has zero interest in me.
We arrive home, and I make my way around the back as he frowns at me.
“What’re you doing, Sierra?”
“Well, I kinda snuck out…” I explain, cringing with embarrassment.
God, I feel like such a child right now. “So I need to go back in the way I left.”
Crane looks at the front door, swigging the last of the whiskey as he shrugs. “Alright, enlighten me.”
I sigh, watching as Crane drops the whiskey bottle to the ground, then like he remembers where he is, he picks it back up, putting it in the recycling. I can’t help but grin when he meets my eyes, a chuckle leaving his lips.
“What?”
I nod to the glass bag with amusement. “I thought you were going to be a bad boy and smash it on the drive or something, but no, you pop it nicely into the recycling.”
Crane laughs, and his face is transformed into one that makes my heart flutter, lifting me meters from the floor, twirling me in the air like a ballerina.
“Your dad is particular about that shit.” Crane smiles, and for a second, all I do is grin back at him like a fucking idiot.
Get a grip, Sierra; you’re his buddy’s little sister.
“He loves recycling.”
What am I saying? Am I really talking about my dad’s recycling habits with Crane?
“So,” Crane yawns, nodding at the back gate, “am I going to get a front-row seat for the Sierra show?”
I scoff, turning to open the gate, leaving it ajar so he can follow me. My bedroom sits above the kitchen, which has a flat roof, meaning I get to sneak out whenever I want.
Crane is staring up at my bedroom from the bottom of the ladder I’m wobbling on, his face frozen in shock.
“Sierra, you can’t go up there like this.”
Here we go again with the Daddy shit.
“I’m good, Dad—”
I make it onto the roof, losing my footing when Crane steadies me, scaring the shit out of me.
Where did he come from?
His hand circles my wrist, guiding me to the window that’s still slightly ajar from my exit earlier.
“What did you just call me?”
I try to swallow, but I’m too busy trying to excuse my stupidity, chewing on my lip as he closes his eyes.
“Never mind, just go.”
I turn to my window, hoisting myself up with the confidence only a drunk could have. My heel slips on the ledge, and I fall back, straight into Crane’s fucking arms.
“Fuck!” I hiss, knocking both of us onto the stones covering the roof, splitting my palms open upon impact. “Ouch!”
Crane grunts when he hits the roof, and I scramble to get up, my bloodied hands slipping on the stones.
“Shit, I’m sorry!”
Get up, Sierra, you fucking mess! I curse myself, my knee pressing into the stones as I rise.
“Well, that’s enough noise to wake the fucking dead.”
Crane scowls as he gets up, his hands reaching for mine as he groans.
“I’m supposed to be looking out for you. Now, look at you, covered in blood!”
Crane looks furious with himself, and I shake my head, trying to tell him that it’s okay; I’m not hurt, but he’s already lifting me into my room.
“Are you in?” Crane rasps, holding onto the ledge as he studies me.
His hair falls into his eyes, concern clashing with anger as he seems to battle what to do next.
“Yes,” I whisper, ignoring the pain in my hands and knees.
“Goodnight, Sierra,” Crane says, dropping down from the ledge before I can say a word, closing the window behind him.
The scent of him lingers in the air, and I slide my heels off, wondering if he is still close enough to hear me if I call out to him.
Then again, what would I say if he was?
Fuck it.
“Crane?” I whisper into the night, trying to focus on the darkness that surrounds the roof.
Nothing.
Disappointment floods through me.
What did I expect?
He just helped me home, that’s all.
I wash my hands in my en suite, watching the blood swirl with the water in the basin.
It looks pretty, like a cotton candy color.
Hissing as I dry them, I dab at them softly with the towel. Swapping my dress for an oversized t-shirt, I climb into bed, my eyes closing almost instantly.
Crane.
The last thing I think of before I go to sleep is my brother’s best friend, the complicated, moody man that he is.
But oh, what a man he is.
What a man indeed.
My throat is so dry I panic I’m dying, having dehydrated through the night. I squint at my bedside table, spotting my phone but no water.
I need water, and I need it now.
Getting up is a problem.
My brain feels like it’s in a fishbowl, and I guess it is. It’s pickled with vodka and whiskey.
I exhale as nausea hits me, but I manage to make it downstairs, thankfully avoiding all family members on my way to the tap.
I stare at the wounds on my palms, the throbbing pain reminding me that I’d drunk too much to remember what happened to them.
My hands shake when I lift to get a glass, but I’m soon groaning with pleasure as I fill my body with the only thing that’s going to save me today.
Ice cold, crisp water.
“Fuck, that’s good,” I mutter to myself, refilling it before turning to make the journey back upstairs.
Where is everyone?
I shrug in answer to my own question, somehow making it back to bed in one piece.
“Fucking whiskey,” I whisper to myself, tugging the duvet around me. “What else did you do, Sierra?”
I vaguely remember kissing Jaden, and I wince when I remember Liza and Crane finding us in the garage at the party.
Oh shit, Crane.
A succession of flashbacks hits me: Crane whispering something to me as we stand close together by the wall, me hugging him, then how silent he was on the ride home.
I remember feeling so attracted to him, and I groan, hiding my head beneath the duvet.
Tell me I didn’t try it on with him.
I’ll die if I did.
The front door opens downstairs, and I hear my brother groan.
“Yo, is anyone home?”
He sounds worse than I do.
“I’m here, but shut up, you’re so loud!” I yell back, rolling my eyes when I hear him coming up the stairs, heading for my room.
I peek over the duvet when he knocks on the door, calling for him to come in.
Kai pokes his head through, looking better than I do.
“You okay?”
“No, I’m ill,” I lie, putting off the inevitable.
I’m surprised Crane hasn’t told him already.
“Ill?”
Okay, he sounds genuinely concerned.
“Have you spoken to Crane today?” I mumble, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to show I’m not that bothered either way.
“No, why?” Kai frowns.
“Just wondered. You’re normally joined at the hip, is all.”
Shit. Crane will tell him about me being at the party, Jaden, and whatever else I got up to.
Not that he can say shit about what I do, I just don’t want his lectures, nor him telling my folks.
“He’s coming by later if you wanna see him.”
I turn over in bed so he can’t see me blushing before responding, “I don’t.”
“Fools.” Kai laughs, closing the door behind him.
I’m too hungover for this.