God, I fuckinghatethisgirl.
But my dick doesn’t. It never did.
A twinge of self-consciousness passes through her, evident by the little shudder in her shoulders. Something like hurt clouds her face before she marshals it, nonchalantly turning her head the other way.
Good job riling me up at the start.
I wish this was my party so I could show her the door like I did on Halloween.
Brandon’s burning gaze idles between us as he swallows hard, torn between loyalty and ass-kissing.
My fingers tighten around the neck of my beer. Like I said, I’m the bigger person, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make everyone aware, so instead of storming out like Brandon predicted, and like I’m dying to, I meet his unblinking gaze.
“You want in?” I motion toward the bowl.
Relief shines in his eyes before a smile widens his face. “Seven minutes? Fuck yes!”
“Couple number one is already getting lucky in the closet,” Colt says, draining half his beer. “About done now, too, so get this moving along, Finn.”
“Alright!” Finn jumps to his feet, studying the waiting girls. “Remember the rules! No whining, no quitting, no swaps. You get who you pick! If you’re not willing to take the risk, step back.” He stares down the guys next, with the same conviction in his eyes. “Same goes for all of you. Anyone who breaks the rules gets a bottle of Patrón and won’t leave until it’s empty.”
“Oh, shut up already,” Mikaela chuckles, stepping out of the line. “I’m drawing first.” She closes her eyes, tilts her head back, and rummages through the watches, pulling out a silver one on a blue suede strap.
A guy steps in—Mick Harris—his smile brighter than a camera flash as he takes Mikaela’s hand, leading her out of the room. Good job Toby can’t see this, or he’d fuck up every person in the vicinity.
I’m supposed to keep the girl safe, but who she lets between her legs is none of my goddamn business, so I stay put.
Conor returns with hisLittle Beea moment later, a satisfied gleam in her eyes, his dick hard in his pants. I bet a hundred they’ll be out the door within thirty minutes since he obviously got her off and saved his load for later.
The bowl empties slowly. Finn approaches another girl once the last couple returns, and I’m hoping my watch is next so I can be done before the closet becomes a biohazard.
“You want another beer?” I ask Colt, setting my empty bottle aside. “I’ll go grab a smoke, too. You coming?”
“I don’t think so,” he says, motioning his chin at Anastasia, who holds his watch between two fingers.
They had a casual thing going until she fell in love with some doctor around Christmas time. The grin splitting her pretty face as she beckons Colt with her long, manicured finger says it didn’t last.
“At least you know what you’re getting yourself into,” I say, squeezing his shoulder.
“It’s been a while. Maybe she learned something new.”
“One can hope.”
I rise to my feet in sync with him, but we go our separate ways as I navigate outside, where most of the party is happening. Six stands behind his console on a makeshift stage by the pool playing an original song he recorded with Mia last month.
At least two hundred people dance, make out, and drink in smaller and larger groups. Some seniors lurk in the shadows, either getting high, ogling the topless girls playing volleyball in the pool, or both. Taking a moment to enjoy this last night of irresponsibility, I pull a cigarette packet from my back pocket, light one, and lean against the wall, watching the crowd.
Nothing will be the same come Monday. My best years are over and the real work begins.
The real life.
While part of me can’t believe I’m no longer a student, a bigger part is glad it’s over. Maybe I’d have a different outlook on life if I hadn’t watched my brothers starting families these last few years. The happiness and bliss they all share.
Maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m missing out.
“Hey, hey,” Rose chirps, materializing out of nowhere to lean against the wall beside me. “Having fun?”
“Can’t complain. You? How many of those have you had?” I point at the red solo cup she’s clutching with both hands.
