“Alex Carpenter?” I fucking hate that guy, and I know Hendrix has warned him to stay away from his sister more than once.
She nods as both of our heads turn to see him talking to one of Bethany’s friends across the room. He’s clearly flirting with her, and although I have no idea what pretense he gave Presley tonight about bringing her, I do know ignoring her is beyond douchey.
“Want me to get Hendrix to take you home?” I ask, giving her a meaningful look.
She bites her lip, clearly torn, because we both know Hendrix is otherwise occupied. Before she can answer, Bethany barrels down the stairs, still fixing her top, and shouts, “Gather up, everyone! It’s time for round two!”
I raise a questioning eyebrow at her, but she just shakes her head. When Hendrix returns, I’m going to tell him he owes his sister coffee for sticking it out.
Especially when, a moment later, Bethany’s eyes land on Presley, and she grins. “Since your brother bailed, you’re up, Presley.”
Presley is popular by association. She’s Hendrix’s little sister, and everyone knows well enough not to mess with her. However, when it comes down to it, much like me, Presley doesn’t fit in with the popular crowd.
And it couldn’t be more blatantly obvious than now.
She looks like she’d rather have the earth swallow her up than reach for that bottle. But she does it anyway. She uncrosses her long legs, gets on her hands and knees, and fucking crawls to the damn bottle.
God, kill me now.
Because try as I might, I am failing miserably at not checking out my best friend’s little sister right now.
I’ve gotten better at looking away.
Over the last eight months, I’ve managed to put Presley firmly in the hell no category and not look at her in any sort of way that’s sexual in nature.
But tonight, I appear to be slipping. And she is so fucking pretty…
She twists the bottle clockwise and then gives it a strong spin. It spins repeatedly, and with each turn, I can feel my heart race faster.
I do not want her kissing any of these guys.
The bottle begins to slow and comes to a stop, causing everyone in the circle to erupt. Because it doesn’t land on someone. It lands between two someones.
Alex Carpenter and…me.
We all look to Bethany for guidance. After all, she’s the one who decided to create this hybrid disaster. She looks around and realizes she’s supposed to say something. Rolling her eyes, she shrugs like she couldn’t give two shits. “Ladies’ choice, I guess.”
“Wait,” Alex suddenly interjects. “Doesn’t Hollis live with her? Isn’t that, like, incestuous or something?”
Is he fucking for real? I turn to him. “We’re not related.”
“Yeah, but?—”
“Hollis,” Presley says, interrupting us and rising to her feet. “I choose Hollis.”
“What the fuck, Presley?” Alex looks stunned, like he can’t believe she’d ever pick the gutter rat over him. “You’re my date.”
She walks across the circle, holds out her hand, and I take it just in time for her to say, “Probably should have thought of that earlier. Come on, Hollis. Heaven awaits.”
I take her hand, giving Alex a smug grin. “Later, losers.”
Chapter Eleven
HOLLIS
It’s been a couple of days since I got that apology text from Pres.
I took Jonas’s advice and replied almost immediately and told her it was water under the bridge.
