Reaching the kitchen, I find a few of my teammates pouring drinks. “It’s Easton!” Diego cheers.
“Hey,” I grunt. “Wanna share that?” I nod toward the bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Hell yeah.” He grabs a glass and pours some before adding some Coke. “Welcome to my place, man. Help yourself.”
I nod in thanks, taking the drink and tossing it back. “Another.” I cough as the liquid burns its way down. Fuck, he makes them strong.
Diego chuckles, pouring me another.
I guess we’re getting wasted tonight.
An hour later, I’m feeling it hard. I haven’t found Taylor, Bennett, or Aria. They’re here, I texted Taylor to make sure.
It’s probably best if I stay far away from them right now. I’m pretty wasted, and god knows what would come out of my mouth.
“I gotta piss,” I grumble as I push away from the counter and stumble my way to the nearest washroom. After I’m done doing my business, I wind up lost as I try to make my way back to the kitchen, and end up in the backyard.
“What the fuck?” I groan. I’m about to turn around when I spot him. Bennett. He’s on the other side of the backyard, over by the firepit. He’s standing there laughing, with Roland.
My jaw grinds when I notice Roland’s arm is around his shoulder. When Bennett looks up at him, smiling generously, it's like a stab to the damn gut.
“Fuck this. And fuck him,” I growl.
“What?” a guy near me asks.
“Not talking to you,” I snap, then snatch his bottle of beer from his hand.
“Hey!” he shouts, but I’m already pushing my way outside. I find an empty chair, right in view of Bennett.
Sitting heavily, I lean forward on my elbows and stare at him. It’s as if I can’t look away, like I’m drawn to him.
I hate how handsome he is, how his smell drives me crazy, and that his voice, his laugh, shifts something inside me.
The sound he makes when he comes is carved into my memory. Something I can’t fucking get out of my head.
I want him out of my head. I hate him. I hate that I crave him. I hate that I feel anything toward him.
Stupid Bennett, with his stupid supportive parents and his stupid nice house.
He has it all. Everything he could ever want. So what if he lost the game tonight? It’s not the end of the damn world.
He had no right to look so upset with me earlier. He started it with my socks.
The socks, he said, he ‘didn’t mean to throw out.’ I call bullshit. He was probably just trying to make himself look good.
But... did he really go back to get them from the trash? Why would he do that? He hates me; they’re just stupid socks to him. So why would he try to get them back?
He’s lying. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.
Ugh! Why can’t my stupid brain just shut the hell up!?
As if Bennett can feel my gaze on him, his eyes flick in my direction. For a moment, I don’t think he can see me. I’m on the other side of the yard, hiding in the dark.
But then his brow furrows and I feel a wave of heat settle over me. Fuck.
Glaring right back at him, I take a swig of the beer. He gives his head a subtle shake before turning his attention away.
Just like that, he fucking dismisses me like I’m not worth his time.
