“I’m drinking slowly. Plus, Ethan and I had dinner a bit ago.”
“Right.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, like he’s not buying a word I’m saying, which for some reason makes me want to push the issue further.
“For your information, I’m probably the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”
“Really?” He quirks a brow. “The happiest?”
“Sure,” I say, waving the hand holding the cup out in front of me and sloshing the contents over the rim. “I’ve got both my boys here in one place”?Brandon grunts, grabbing the back of his neck?“my manandmy best friend. Life is good. What more could I possibly want?”
“I could think of a few things,” he mumbles.
I frown, but before I can ask him what he means, he asks, “So, what did you do when you got back to your dorm? Anything exciting?”
“Not really.” I flush, thinking about how I fell asleep on the couch. I can still see the disappointment in his eyes when I woke a couple hours later. “We were both kind of tired, so we ordered pizza and watchedThe Avengersbefore we came here.”
Brandon’s sober expression transforms, a wide smile splitting his face in two. “You fell asleep, didn’t you?”
Shoot, I forgot how well he knows me.
I groan and tip my head back. “Why do I always fall asleep with Marvel movies?”
“Face it. You don’t like them, Tate.”
“But they’re good. They’re supposed to besogood. Everybody loves them.”
He shakes his head. “Not you. You’re a romance girlie.”
I smirk, pursing my lips. “Fine. You’re right!” I yell, finally admitting it. “I hate all things action and violent and devoid of a solid romance storyline.” I drag a hand over my face. “I’m the worst girlfriend ever.”
Brandon chuckles and pulls me into his arms, giving me a little pat on the back. “You’re not the worst girlfriend ever. You just need a man who knows your preferences and understands if he puts anything else on, you’ll be snoring before the credits roll.”
I laugh and shove at his arm, but he catches my hand, his blue eyes steady on mine in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. “When are you going to stop convincing yourself to love all the wrong things?”
I suck in a breath, unsure of whether we’re still talking about movies when Ethan appears, wrapping an arm around my waist and shoving another red plastic cup in my hand. “Here, I brought you another.”
“Um, thanks.” I stumble away from Brandon and further into Ethan’s arms, only for him to tip my chin and claim my lips.
I kiss him back, my thoughts sluggish through the haze of alcohol and my racing thoughts of Brandon. And when I finally pull back and look in the direction he was standing, he’s gone.
It’s been nearly two hours since Brandon and the guys showed up. Two. Yet he’s barely spoken two words to me since he got me alone in the kitchen. So far, the evening has been an epic failure, but it’s not over, and I’m no quitter.
I wander around the backyard, weaving through the throng of people while I wait for Ethan to return from the bathroom. Several frat brothers man the keg by the sliding glass doors. I bypass them and the small crowd dancing to the beat of the music, including a raucous group of girls singing at the top of their lungs to Katie Perry’s “Firework.” A fire crackles in a steel drum several feet away, and I pause beside it, mesmerized by the glowing flames, before I tip the plastic cup in my hands to my lips and drain the last of my punch that’s long since gone warm.
I should probably slow it down, but every time I turn around, Ethan’s shoving another drink in my hand, and Brandon’s, apparently, too busy flirting his way through the party to notice.
My gaze drifts back to the sliding glass doors like a homing beacon to the spot where he’s standing, leaning against the deck and head bent low to hear whatever the leggy blonde he’s been talking to for the last thirty minutes is saying over the music. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and laughs, placing one manicured hand on his bicep. In return, Brandon smiles—that crooked smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners—and the blonde leans in a little closer. My stomach churns with something dark and slimy as he whispers something in her ear that has her throwing her head back in laughter.
Tearing my eyes off him, I focus back on the crackling fire as somebody adds another log to the pyre.I’m not jealous, I tell myself. I’m frustrated. Frustrated that already my relationship with Ethan seems to be affecting what I have with Brandon. Frustrated they can’t just get along.
And afraid things are going to change.
I shudder and risk another glance at the same time he meets my eyes. I raise a hand in a small wave, feeling awkward as fuck. I’m not used to us being in the same place at the same time yet feeling worlds apart. But then he winks, and my stomach somersaults into my throat.
“Brought you another.”
I blink at the sound of Ethan’s voice, turning to my right where I find him, clutching a cup in both hands.
“Oh. Thanks.” I offer him a weak smile as he leans down and wraps his arms around me.
