Give me your worst. I beg you.
I relax back in my seat, doing my best to look unaffected. It isn’t an easy feat, but I manage.
“Heard we’re going to be roomies this weekend,” I say, not sure what else to talk about. Mack and I don’t talk.We do a lot of staring and bitching and arguing, but chatting is a no go.
“Let’s get one thing straight, here, Alex,” he begins. His gaze is heavy as he crosses his arms over his large chest. I pout because his hoodie covers up those delicious muscles he works so hard for.
I’ve seen him shirtless in my parents’ house plenty of times. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t put myself in the position to watch him in the first place.
“Oh, is this the part of the trip when you tell me to be a good boy?” I bite out, a smirk tugging at my lips.
“This is the part when I tell you if you don’t keep to your fucking self, I will make sure you don’t come home in one piece.” He grins this evil grin that has my stomach all fluttery.
Close enough, I guess.Before I can respond to Mack’s bitter and threatening comment, Trey, Hudson, Andre, and Paul show up with Austen in tow.
“Saved by the bell,” Mack mutters to himself, his demeanor shifting as Austen takes the seat beside him.
The guys fill in the rest of the seats, but I can’t take my eyes off Mack. His words reverberate in my brain, making me short circuit.
The desire to obey him is strong, but I don’t listen well. I don’t like to be told what to do. The desire to argue with him, fight back, and tell him to go fuck himself just so I can get a rise out of him? That’s a lot stronger. But I don’t argue or fight. I only glare at Mack with the anger of a boiling volcano because this weekend is about Austen; not me and my need to piss off the man I’m obsessed with.
Game on, Mackenzie. Game fucking on.
Chapter Three
Jordan
I ignore the way Alex stares at me, which is really fucking difficult. You’d think he was the younger one here with how childish he is, but he’s, in fact, the oldest. He certainly doesn’t act his age. Never has, and I’m sure he never will.
Austen is freaking out on the side of me, panicking because hisbestiehasn’t showed up yet. Cameron promised he’d be here, and if he doesn’t show, I may finally have to deck him. I can tolerate a lot of his shit, but letting down my best friend is not acceptable.
It’s no secret I don’t like the guy. None of us really do; no one but Austen. Cameron isn’t a terrible person, he’s just… so fucking judgmental. Austen swears he’s not, that we’ve got him all wrong, but I see the dirty looks he gives us. He’s not into the stuff we’re into, and that’s fine, but he doesn’t have to look at me like I’m a piece of dog shit he stepped in on the way to his fancy art classes.
It’s whatever, though. I don’t need Cameron Scott to like me, I just need him to be nice to my friend. Which he usually is since he’s in love with him, but apparently that’s a secret no one is supposed to know. Not sure how anyone could miss the Jupiter-sized hearts in his eyes every time he looks at Austen.
I just pointed this out to Austen, who argued that I was wrong.
Cameron isn’t in love with me.
We’re just friends.
This is why I keep my mouth shut. No one listens to what I say when I talk.
Unable to ignore the feeling of eyes on me any longer, I look to the side and find Alex unashamedly staring. He smirks, that I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-you-say sort of grin that grinds my fucking gears. God, just his face pisses me off. He holds my gaze in challenge. Like somehow he thinks he has the upper hand. He doesn’t, nor will he ever. I raise a brow, gritting my teeth. What the fuck is his problem? We aren’t even in Vegas yet, there’s no alcohol involved, and he’s already starting his shit.
I’m pretty sure he’s more fucked in the head than he lets on, because I’m certain he thinks there is something going on between us. News flash: there isn’t. Just because I walked in on him jerking offonce, doesn’t meana damn thing. Not a single fucking thing. Me being unable to forget it has nothing to do with liking it and everything to do with being traumatized by catching a dude jerking off. I’d never seen that before, not outside of porn and there was always a girl involved there. He’s looking into the situation way too much.
Alex is open about being bi, at least with us. He’s never announced it, but he doesn’t hide it. If anything, he’s more than obvious about it. He’s never tried anything with me, but the way he looks at me makes me think he wants to. But Alex also has a sick idea of flirting. It’s like he gets off on me being mean to him. He does all kinds of shit to get on my bad side, for me to tell him off, and then he just smiles about it like he won.
I don’t get it.
I pull away, not wanting Alex to think I like looking at himlike that, and bring my attention back to my phone and the game I’m playing. A text pops up from my mom, so I tap on it.
You need to come home this weekend to take care of the yard.
With a huff, I respond as kindly as I can. It’s never easy when it comes to her.
I can’t come home this weekend. Next weekend.
