Not bothering to wait for her to text back, I stick my phone into my skirt and head out of the building. I approach the curb where the black Mercedes waits and climb into the back seat. Douglas pulls up the route, and his face contorts into a look of surprise.
“Wow. That’s a nice neighborhood. Big night, huh?”
Instead of responding, I give him a tight-lipped smile. Douglas puts the vehicle into drive and slowly pulls away from the campus.
Here goes nothing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BRYDEN (MOUNTAIN)
Another party.
Perfect. This is exactly what I don’t want, to wade through a sea of juiced-up college kids. I turn onto the gravel drive, and my headlights cut through the dark. Cars are crammed haphazardly on the lawn, and red Solo cups litter the steps.
My jaw clenches as I ease into the only remaining spot, the bass pulsing so hard it feels like it’s coming through my chest. I kill the engine, but the vibrations don’t stop. They’re in the air, the pavement, and the bones of this house that was supposed to be quiet tonight.
Someone stumbles off the porch, already drunk out of their mind, and I suck in an aggravated breath. Just once, I’d like to come back to something other than one of Alex’s beer-soaked ragers.
Frozen Four are three weeks out, nationals are looming, and the last thing we need is another visit from the cops. We’re already pushing our luck with the coach. You’d think a curfew and the threat of a team-wide bag skate would’ve stuck with Alex after the last time.
But no. Alex and consequences? They’ve never been on speaking terms. It shouldn’t surprise me, he’s spoiled, and oftentimes the rules don’t apply to him. Kane’s no better, always complacentwhere Alex is concerned. He might not plan for these things, but he certainly goes along with them.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my boys. We’ve been friends since elementary school, and if it weren’t for Alex’s father buying us this lake house, my folks would be out a lot of money to cover room and board.
But this is idiotic. There is too much riding the line to risk it all for chicks and bad decisions waiting to happen.
A cheer erupts from somewhere inside, sharp and reckless, slicing through the thick night air. My grip tightens, the leather of the steering wheel cool against my palm. A hot shower and the kind of silence only exhaustion can deliver is all I wanted. Instead, I’m about to walk into a battlefield of beer pong and bass drops, plus probably pulling double duty as a bouncer and cleanup crew.
I sit for a moment longer than I should, letting the sounds of laughter and muffled shouting filter through the car windows. The ache in my shoulders from staying at practice longer than everyone else begs me to just turn around, find a hotel for the night, and deal with the aftermath tomorrow.
But I don’t.
This is my house, too, and someone has to keep things from spiraling. With an exhale, I grab my bag from the passenger seat and step out of the car. The scent of lake water and spilled beer carries through the air, a damp heaviness clinging to everything from an earlier rain.
A group of rowdy kids spills onto the porch, beer splattering from their cups as they laugh entirely too loudly. I set my jaw and head for the door, bracing myself for whatever disaster waits inside.
Once I step onto the portico, a guy I don’t recognize stumblesout the front door and gives me a sloppy grin, holding up his cup in a silent toast.
I ignore him.
Inside, the house is a writhing mass of people packed into the kitchen, the living room, and along the stairs. The music is deafening, and the heat of too many bodies in too small a space makes the air thick.
I navigate through the crowd, sidestepping a couple dancing—or grinding, really—near the doorway. Jackson, my teammate cuts in front of my path, and I pause, turning slightly to keep from running into him.
Someone shouts my name, a voice too familiar to be ignored, as I step into the kitchen.
“Mountain!” Alex’s voice cuts through the chaos, drawing more attention than I’d like.
He’s propped against the counter with his easy grin and a cup dangling from his fingers. A couple of girls crowd around him, one twirling her hair, the other leaning a little too close. He doesn’t seem to mind. Alex never minds.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” he chastises.
I don’t stop moving, shouldering past a cluster of guys to exit out the other side of the room. “Didn’t realize I was coming back home to another party.”
Alex laughs, slinging an arm around one of the girls. “Come on, man.” He gestures around with his cup. “It’s just a few people, nothing crazy.”
“Nothing crazy,” I echo, glancing at the horde crammed into the living room. A girl stumbles over a stack of beer cans, sending a small avalanche across the floor. “Sure.”
