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.”