by A. Jade
“Positive. I have like fifteen pairs, so I can be without these for a night.”
“Fifteen?” I’m not sure I have fifteen anything.
She smirks. “Wayne knows the way to my heart.”
I feel like a baby deer learning to walk after I slip them on, but all things considered, they aren’t too terrible. Plus they make my legs look miles long.
“Perfect,” she exclaims. “God, to be young again.”
“You are young,” I remind her.
Something passes in her gaze before she smiles. “Come on, birthday girl. I’ll give you a ride to the party.”
I can feel everyone’s eyes on me the moment I step foot in Christian’s house. And for once, it’s not because something embarrassing happened or because I punched someone.
“Holy shit,” Sawyer says as I walk over to her and Oakley. “Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?”
“Is it too much?”
She shakes her head. “No. You’re hotter than the Eta Carinae.”
“The hottest star in the galaxy?” I’ll take it.
I pluck an empty Solo cup from the stack on the table. “Are you sure you’re okay with being my DD?”
“Positive,” she tells me. “It’s your birthday. I want you to have fun.”
I look at Oakley, who’s been silent this whole time with his hand in front of his face. “You okay, Oak?”
“Yup, everything’s cool,” he tells Sawyer.
Sawyer and I exchange a glance.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Because I might start drooling like every other guy in the surrounding area and that’s creepy, fam.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, stop. It’s just a dress.” I poke him in the stomach. “Have a drink with me for my birthday. On second thought, have several and teach me a thing or two about how to party like O-dawg.”
He grins. “You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
He turns to the table full of liquor. “Then consider me your personal bartender tonight. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
O ne…two…I’m not sure how many hours later—the Louboutins don’t matter because I can no longer feel my feet.
Hell, I’m not sure I can feel anything other than the pounding of the music and the energy of the people around me as I sway my body to the beat.
Someone—Oakley, from the looks of it—makes his way over and hands me a glass.
“You’re the best cousin fucker I’ve ever had,” I shout because I want to make sure he hears me.
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, yeah. Someone’s feeling it.” He stares down at the drink in his hand. “Be easy with this one, okay?”
I give him a thumbs up. “Yes, sir.”
I bring the cup to my mouth, and right down the hatch it goes.
“Or not,” Oakley mutters. “I think I’m gonna switch you to water for a little bit.”
“Water is for pussies,” I yell at the top of my lungs.
Some guy passing by gives me a fist pound. “Hell yeah, it is.”
I blink. It’s Cole.
“It’s you,” I say to his tall frame. “You’re here.”
Taking a sip of his beer, he looks at Oakley. “Something tells me things are going to get very interesting soon.”
Oakley balks. “Dude, where have you been? Things have been interesting for the last hour and a half.”
Leaning over, Cole shows Oakley something on his phone.
Oakley exhales sharply. “Yeah, I say we both get drunk so he can’t blame us for this shit.”
“I like the way you think,” Cole says before they wander over to the liquor table.
I have no idea what they’re talking about. “Who? Who’s going to blame you?” I ask the room before turning to Sawyer. “Is everything okay?”
Evidently, I get super emotional and worried when I drink.
She nods. “Everything is fine.” She checks her watch. “Although I do have to be home in a half hour.”
Oh. That sucks. I was just starting to have fun.
“Oakley, will you split an Uber with me later?” I ask when he and Cole return. Wait, that was rude. I look at my friend. “Do you hate me?”
Laughing, she shakes her head. “Of course not. I just want to make sure you have a safe ride home before I leave.”
“It’s all good,” Oakley says. “I’ll take care of her. Worse comes to worse, we’ll sleep our hangovers off in one of the bedrooms upstairs.”
A few people near us snicker.
“Wouldn’t be the first time you two shared a bed. Ain’t that right, O-dawg?” some guy calls out.
“Man, shut the fuck up before I slap your momma with my dick and make you my step-cousin too,” Oakley jeers.
Sawyer blinks. “I think you mean stepson.”
He shrugs. “Whatever. Tomato, tomato.”
“Tom—” She waves a hand. “You know what? Never mind.”
I toss an arm around their shoulders. “Aren’t you guys having so much fun?”
“Not yet.” Oakley raises his cup. “But I’m getting there.”
“I have to pee,” I tell Cole because he’s the one standing directly across from me.
He looks at Oakley. “Is that her way of saying she wants the punch bowl? Because that would be epic.”
Sawyer smacks him on the arm. “If I find out you let my friend pee in the punch bowl after I leave, it will take your doctor a week to count the scratch marks on your body.”
Cole’s eyes turn hooded. “Well, shit. Let’s go, sweetness.”
She cringes. “Not even in your dreams.” Her eyes swivel around the room. “Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your new girlfriend? Or did someone do us all a favor and drop a house on her?”
Cole smirks. “I’ll be damned. Is that a hint of jealousy I detect? You going soft on me, Bible thumper?”
She shoots him a dirty look. “Never. I’d rather crawl over broken glass and eat the vomit your brother spewed all over Britney than sleep with you.”
Cole considers this for a moment. “So you’re saying there’s still a chance?”
Huffing, she links her arm through mine. “Come on, I’ll go with you to the bathroom.”
“Okay, but we have to stop and talk to the bong boys on the way back.”
“The who?”
“You’ll see,” I assure her.
Chapter 34
JACE
The music is bumping as I trek to Christian’s front door. Only instead of the usual house bullshit, I hear “Control” by Puddle of Mudd pumping through the speakers.
It’s a good song. One of my favorites by them.
The tiny hairs on my neck raise. Thanks to Dylan forcing me to listen to it nonstop one summer.
I grip the handle harder than necessary as I walk inside.
A few girls sweep their eyes over me as I pass them, but I’m not interested in hooking up tonight. I’m just here to check in and make sure my brother and friend don’t get too wasted and do something stupid.
I spot them in the living room hovering near the liquor table. No surprise there.
I’m heading over when my gaze snags on some chick dancing on a coffee table. I can’t see her face because her back is to me, but it doesn’t matter. With a body like that, she could look like a bulldog, and half the guys here would still fuck her.
I stifle a laugh when I spot Oakley’s pothead friends from Royal Manor High. Until tonight, I’ve never seen them pay attention to anything other than their bongs. However, it’s clear the hottie on the table has them both transfixed.
And they aren’t the only ones. Dwight Davis and Courtland Bennet, two of the best players on the offensive line for the Knights are practically salivating. Dwight is a good guy, but according to my brother, Courtland is a pretentious bastard.
My groin stirs as I focus on the girl again. Long legs, curvy little ass, and the kind of hair I’d like to run my fingers through and tug
while getting my dick sucked.
Yeah, I’m starting to understand the gravitational pull.
I’m not alone either, because a few more guys from the football team surround the coffee table.
“You’re so hot,” one of them calls out. “How much for a private lap dance?”
The girl doesn’t pay him any attention. She’s so into the music, no one else matters. I bite my lip as she moves her body to the beat like a snake charmer. There’s something sexy as fuck about a girl who gives none.
“Hey,” Oakley shouts. “How much for you to shut the hell up?”
Cole squeezes his shoulder. “Relax. Griffin’s harmless.”
Hmm. Oakley doesn’t usually have such a short fuse. Not unless someone is dumb enough to mess with those he cares about.
Like some kind of personal fuck you from the universe, my brain puts the pieces together at the same time the girl turns around.
A mixture of anger, confusion, and something else I’m not ready to acknowledge twists my guts as I stare at Dylan.
Why the fuck is she dancing on a table… looking like that? The red Solo cup she brings to her glossy lips answers my question.
It’s her birthday…and the anniversary of her mother’s death.
Of course, she’s drinking. For the same reasons I did.
She wants to forget.
I grind my molars as I make a beeline for Oakley and Cole.
Oakley nudges my brother when he sees me approach. “Look who’s here.” He bumps my fist. “Hey, man. What’s good?”
Placing my soda on the table, I glare at him. “Any reason your cousin is stripping for half the school right now?”
He makes a face. “She’s dancing, not stripping.”
Cole smirks over his beer bottle. “Not yet, anyway.”
Oakley smacks his arm. “Shut up.” His stare drifts to Dylan who’s now shaking her ass—this time to some godawful hip-hop song—which is how I know she’s past the cutoff point. “It’s her birthday. She deserves to have some fun.” His eyes cut to mine. “Everyone needs a break from their bullshit from time to time.”
He’s not wrong, but it doesn’t mean he should stand by and be complacent while a bunch of guys ogle her like she’s a cold drink of water on a hot day.
Annoyance brews in my chest as Dylan slowly gyrates her hips and rakes her fingers through her blonde hair.
One of Oakley’s pot buddies holds up his bong and asks if she wants a hit. I want to scream at her not to be a dumbass because while they seem harmless, there’s no telling what they could have laced that shit with.
My fingers curl into fists as she leans over and inhales.
“You gonna put a stop to this?”
Oakley looks at me like I’m crazy. “A stop to what? Her taking a bong hit?”
No, the way Courtland Bennett’s leering at her like a dog who wants a nice juicy bone. My teeth clench when he says something to Dwight.
I can’t hear him, but I know what the phrase run a train looks like coming out of someone’s mouth.
Dwight appears hesitant before he laughs and shrugs.
Irritation makes me snap. “Seriously, Oakley?”
“Seriously, what?” He fixes his gaze on me. “Quit acting like I’m doing something wrong because you’re jealous.”
“He’s right,” Cole chimes in. “If you want to stop the dogs from peeing on your lawn, you need to put up a fence. Not a sign.”
Not only does that analogy not make any goddamn sense, it doesn’t apply.
“The both of you can fuck off. I’m not jealous.”
I’ve had enough of this shit. If I spend another minute here, the Knights will be down two players for the upcoming playoff game.
Digging my keys out of my pocket, I flip them the bird. “I’m heading out.”
Chapter 35
DYLAN
“Do you want another one?” my bong buddy asks.
Nodding, I lean over and place my lips around the mouthpiece.
“Damn,” some guy wearing a football jersey says as I inhale. “You sure look like you’re enjoying that.”
Coughing, I reply, “It’s pretty good. Not that I’m a professional or anything.”
He exchanges an impish smile with his friend. “That’s a shame. Such a pretty mouth shouldn’t go to waste.”
I’m not so far gone I can’t understand his crude attempt at a joke.
Paying them no mind, I go back to dancing like no one’s watching.
Just like my mom used to tell me to do.
Although I don’t think she had this particular scenario in mind.
A sharp pain infiltrates my chest. If she didn’t want her daughter dancing on tables for her eighteenth birthday, she shouldn’t have died.
I shake the terrible thought out of my head. I rarely feel such resentment and bitterness about her death, but given this birthday is one of the big ones—combined with the alcohol currently flowing through my system—I guess it’s starting to bring out an angry side of me.
I close my eyes. Keep it together, Dylan.
Forcing myself to take a few deep breaths, I stuff the pain down as far as it will go.
I’m gonna need more alcohol. Enough to drown it out.
I’m about to get off the table and find Oakley, but a hand skates up my leg.
“So, I was thinking,” the jersey-guy begins. “How about me and my buddy take you upstairs for a little while?” His hand travels higher, coasting up my thigh. “We’ll take real good care of you, gorgeous. Promise.”
Deep down, I know it’s not a good idea, but it’s better than thinking about my mom and how much I hate that she’s not here. Or how my dad’s in prison for my birthday and…
Tears prickle my throat and I have to clear it before I speak. “I—”
Don’t get a chance to finish that statement because Jace grabs the guy’s hand and bends one of his fingers backward. “Touch her again and I’ll break the other nine.”
The dude in the jersey screams in agony as he lunges for Jace, but Cole and Oakley grab him.
While Jace grabs me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I scream as he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder like a rag doll.
Oh, boy. The ground looks way too far down from up here.
“Have fun,” Oakley says as Jace turns us around. “We’ll take care of the dogs for you.”
I have no idea what that means, and I don’t have time to wonder because Jace charges out of the living room like a man on a mission.
I slap at his back as he walks out the front door. “Can you put me down?”
“No.”
That’s it. That’s all I get.
“Oakley has my purse.”
“Oh well.”
“It’s my birthday,” I remind him, hoping he’ll concede.
He checks his watch. “Not anymore.”
Bastard.
“Can I at least have another shot before we leave?”
I’m gonna need it to survive another car ride with him.
“You’ve had more than enough already.”
“Then you should probably put me down before I puke on you.”
He chuckles darkly. “Knock yourself out.”
“I’d much rather knock you out,” I mumble as he opens the passenger door of his car and drops me into the seat.
A vulgar smile curves his mouth. “I bet you would.”
Then he slams the door.
I’m grumpy, a little dizzy, and very confused as Jace reverses into his driveway.
“I thought you said I wasn’t allowed in your house?” I chirp in a taunting voice.
His expression is impassive. “You’re not.”
I’m perplexed when he gets out of the car and comes around to my side.
I mock gasp when he opens my door. “Wow, who said chivalry was de—”
I yelp when his hands fasten around my waist, and over his shoulder I go for the second time tonight.
He grunts.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask when his movements come to a halt and I hear the click of a latch.
Silence.
However, the opening and closing of his gate, along with the grass below us, tells me we’re in his backyard.
“What, did you dig a grave for me or something? Planning on burying me next to Bianca’s rabbit?”
Nerves crawl in my belly, mingling with the alcohol. Oh, shit.
Why else would he be carrying me against my will into his backyard? In the middle of the night no less.
“Holy shit, you freaking psycho. Do not kill me and bury me in your yard.”
He doesn’t say a damn thing to ease my anxiety.
A moment later, the grass turns to cobblestone.
“Jace! I swear to God!” I pound on his back as the pretty teal glow from his inground pool comes into view. “Put me down, asshole—”
I scream when he lets go of me and I plummet into a chasm of cold water.
I sputter and cough as I come up to the surface. “What the fuck?”
Hands in the pockets of his jeans, he shrugs innocently. “You told me to put you down.”
Narrowing my eyes, I prepare to tell him off, but then a horrifying realization hits me.
My heart sinks when I see the black heels with red-soles floating on the other side of the pool.
“You asshole.” I swim over to them. “These are Louboutins!”
“Lou—what?” His face twists. “Who even are you right now?”
One by one, I throw them at him. “These are my aunt’s, you idiot. She lent them to me tonight and now they’re ruined.”
He doesn’t look at all concerned. “They’re shoes. If she’s upset, buy her another pair.”
I want to scream because he doesn’t get it. “They’re eight-hundred-dollar shoes. It will take me at least six weeks to earn the money at Top of the Muffin. I was trying to save for a car.” Frustration jams in my throat and I slap the water. “Not everyone is rich like you.”
Hell, even before my dad landed in the slammer we didn’t come close to having the kind of money Jace’s family does.