Page 44 of Gang of Roses: Rebel

Crow stepped in behind me, his hands settling lightly on my waist as he started moving to the beat. Laughing, I threw it back against him, rolling my hips while the music pulsed through the speakers. He matched every move, his chest brushing my back as we turned up together without a care in the world. Every time I looked over my shoulder, he’d flash that cocky grin that made me laugh even harder, and before long, we had everyone around us hyping us up.

It was innocent, at least that’s what I kept telling myself. We’d always joked around and had fun together, but this felt a little different. Maybe it was the way he stayed so close without making it awkward, or maybe it was the way my stomach did the slightest flip whenever I caught him smiling at me. Whatever it was, I pushed the thought away and kept dancing. There was no point in overthinking something that probably meant nothing.

“Damn,” he laughed. “You been holding out on me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Boy, please.”

“Nah, for real. I ain’t know you could move like that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

His gaze slowly traveled over me before settling back on my face.

“I can see that.”

The way he said it made heat creep up my neck.

“Keep looking and you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Trust me, sweetheart. Looking is the easiest thing I’ve done all night.”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop smiling. The liquor had us both feeling good, and for once neither of us seemed interested in fighting it.

The wedding was beautiful, but all it did was make me miss my sister. Before I knew it, I was standing outside Rose’s bedroom. Honestly, this was the first time I’d stepped foot in her room since she died.

The day after her funeral, I’d quietly closed the bedroom door and decided to leave everything exactly where it was. I couldn’t bring myself to pack up her life. It felt wrong, like moving her things would somehow make everything permanent.

I rested my hand on the doorknob for a second before slowly pushing the door open.

However, nothing had changed.

Her bed was still neatly made. A hoodie hung over the desk chair, and a pair of sneakers sat beside her dresser like she’d kicked them off before climbing into bed. Even the room still smelled like her vanilla perfume.

“Damn, Rose...”

My chest tightened as I walked over to her closet. The familiar scent of her perfume lingered on her clothes the moment I slid the closet door open.

For just a second, I could almost hear her voice. “Girl, stop going through my damn closet.”

A sad smile tugged at my lips. “I know... I know.”

I ran my fingers across a few of her jackets before kneeling toward the bottom shelf where she kept all her boots lined up.

“You had too many damn shoes.”

I pushed aside a few shoeboxes until I spotted the black combat boots she’d worn almost everywhere. Just as I reached for them, another shoebox resting on top slipped from the shelf and crashed onto the floor.

“Damn.”

The lid popped open, sending photographs, old movie ticket stubs, bracelets, birthday cards, concert wristbands, and little keepsakes scattering across the carpet.

I let out a small sigh and shook my head. “Still making a mess, huh?”

I knelt down and started picking everything up.

The first picture I grabbed made me smile despite the ache growing in my chest.

Rose and I couldn’t have been older than eight or nine. We were covered head to toe in mud after racing our bicycles through the neighborhood.