Taking a sip of my drink, I shrug. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
The girls giggle, the sound grating on my nerves.
“We’d be more than happy to help you recover,” her friend suggests, running her fingers up my forearm.
These girls are bold as hell. I only wish their attention wasn’t fully focused on me.
Shifting away from her, I take another mouthful of my drink. “I’m good.”
Theo snorts and throws his arm around my shoulders. “Get in line, ladies. He’s emotionally unavailable… or maybe he’s having equipment failure.”
Our teammates laugh, but I just shrug him off me. I’ll take their ribbing. There’s only one girl who has my attention.
Unfazed by not getting a rise out of me, Theo hooks his arm around the closest girl and pulls her onto his lap. “If you’re looking for someone to help, ladies, I copped a knee to the groin in the eighty-eighth minute. I could use some TLC.”
She doesn’t waste any time wrapping her arm around his neck and shoving her tongue down his throat. I avert my eyes as her friends start up a conversation with theother guys, and I’m given a reprieve as the attention is moved off me.
I order another drink, but the alcohol sits heavy in my stomach. This is not my scene. I’m not into meaningless hook ups.
When Theo’s hand slips into the Banshee’s shorts and he starts getting her off at the table, I’m done. Ignoring my teammates’ protests, I leave my drink and exit the bar.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I open the Euphoria app and type out a message.
@PhantomMenace: At least tell me I’ll see you at the club.
I wait a couple of minutes, but as expected, I don’t get a reply. Exhaling a frustrated breath, I close out of the app and order an Uber.
The house is quiet when I get home—too quiet. The kind that makes you realise just how loud your head is.
I can’t deny it’s a blow to my ego that she won’t meet me outside the club. I’ve never had a shortage of girls throwing themselves at me, but this girl is the only one who has my head all kinds of messed up. We had a connection from the night we met, and I don’t understand why she doesn’t want to explore it. Why she won’t take a chance. We could be good together.
Kicking my shoes off at the front door, I make my way upstairs to my bedroom. The bathroom door opens as I pass, and I almost run into my stepsister.
Willow Hepburn.
Her blonde hair is piled in a messy bun on top of herhead, and her eyes widen behind her glasses when she sees me. She’s only wearing an oversized Simple Plan T-shirt, and my eyes drop to her tan thighs.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, barely above a whisper, before disappearing into her bedroom across the hall from mine.
I shake my head.
Typical.
I don’t know what it is about her, but everything she does gets under my skin. We’ve barely said two words to each other in four years, but every interaction with her has involved her rolling her eyes or muttering something under her breath. She doesn’t even know me. Ever since Dad moved her and her mother into our house, I’ve felt like a stranger in my own home. They’re just another reason I can’t wait to finish uni and get out of here.
Clenching my jaw, I continue to my room, closing the door and dropping onto my bed. I need out of Beckford. This house and this town are suffocating me. No one knows who I really am.
I’m starting to wonder if even I know who I am.
Chapter 4
Willow
Isit in the Beckford U library on Monday afternoon trying to focus on my music assignment, but all I can think about is my night with my masked man at Euphoria three weeks ago. My body still shivers at his whispered promise, “I’ll wait for you.”
“Hey.” Leni pulls me from my thoughts as she drops her books onto the table and takes the seat next to me. “Why are your cheeks so flushed?”
“They’re not,” I say, ducking my head.
