“Where are we going?” I ask, even though we only ever go to Rowdy’s.
“Noah’s having his last party before the season starts—bonfire tonight.”
“I seem to recall them having a party last winter, mid-season.” I give her a pointed look, and even almost nine months later, she blushes at the mention of the night she met her now boyfriend.
“That was their one exception to the no parties during the season rule.” She waves a hand in front of her face. “This is the end of summer; start of a new and—for some—last season, party.”
“Mhmm,” I hum and throw the oversized shirt on anyway.
“Come on, Chlo,” she pleads. “We’ll go out tonight, and tomorrow we can spend all day on the couch ordering food and watchingSons of Anarchy.”
I tuck my oversized shirt into the band of my bra, turning it into a cropped T-shirt. Summer might be coming to an end, but I’ve never been known to dress for the weather.
“Hand me those shorts,” I say with a half-assed eye roll.
“Let’s go!” Savannah hops from the bed, tossing me my cut-off denims on her way to the door.
4
maverick
There aresome drinking games where everyone wins. Truth, dare, or drink feels like one of those games where everyone loses. Just like Noah has never been able to turn down a bet, I’ve never been able to deny a dare. The downside is, I just end up holding my beer all night rather than getting to drink it.
“You’re up, Hall,” Gabe calls.
I cock my head, holding my hands out like it’s crazy that he even has to ask. “Dare.”
“I dare you to jump in the lake.”
I eye him, waiting for a beat before I stand from my chair. It’s not until I set my cup down that he adds, “Naked.”
The small crowd of women and my teammates around the bonfire break out into a mix of cat calls and low groans.
“Always so interested in seeing my balls, mate.” I pull my shirt over my head, and even though the nights are starting to get cooler, the flames from the pit heat my skin. I toss my shirt, aiming for the side of my chair, but the girl that was sitting beside me—Kim or Kit, I can’t remember now—snatches it before it can hit the ground. I look away, though Icatch the way she subtly drags the fabric across her face first then clutches it in her lap.
The grass is cool under my bare feet, and now that I’m far enough away from the fire, it’s enough to send goosebumps over my skin. I shuck off my pants halfway to the water and turn back around to the fifteen or so people watching me. “Close your eyes, Sassafras. I don’t want to give Kingy Boy a complex.” With that, I drop my briefs, causing both hoots and exaggerated groans. I run down the length of the doc, spinning into the water with my middle fingers in the air.
When I pop back up, the top layer is still warm from the day. My hands effortlessly glide through the water as I bob up and down, taking a minute to appreciate the view now that everyone is back to drinking and laughing with each other. Just this small distance between us feels like miles. It’s quiet out here in the water, and I absently wonder how many more nights like this I have left.
The two story white house is the only one at the end of the street. Beyond the deck, the grassy yard backs all the way up to our own private lake. We play hockey on it in the winter, and drink beers on it in the summer. The backyard is lit up with hundreds of yards of lights—a new addition to the house since last semester—and the fire pit has been the center of many late night hang outs. Noah, Silas, and I moved into this house the summer after freshman year, and at the time, I was just excited to have a place to party. I didn’t expect it to actually become my home. This is our last year here together with these guys that are like family to me, and as excited as everyone is for what’s coming next, a small part of me already misses what we’re going to lose.
I swim over to the edge of the dock, hoist myself up, and cup my dick between both hands as I jog back up the lawn.
“Relax, you don’t need both hands,” one of the guys calls out.
“Just say you don’t know what it’s like to deal with something this big and move on,” I throw back over my shoulder as I round the side yard and reach the sliding glass door that leads to my room.
My shoulders physically drop, and I mutter a silentthank youwhen I pull on the handle, and the door opens up. After a quick rinse in the shower, I throw on a hoodie—no shirt—a pair of sweatpants, and a quick spray of cologne.
I pull my door shut behind me and listen for the click, just as one of our defenders walks by. “Heard you were out there shaking that ass for everyone,” Wyatt says.
“God damn, that was the fastest game of telephone gone wrong.”
He drapes his arm over the redhead beside him, barking out a laugh as he steers her out back. “You coming?” he calls over his shoulder.
“I’m gonna make a new drink and then I’ll be out.” I push the sleeves of my sweatshirt up, turn toward the kitchen, and stop when I catch a glimpse of the only girl whose absence I’ve noticed all night.
Chloe leans a hip against the counter while her thumbs hover over her phone and her teeth strum her bottom lip. She types something, brings her fingers to her mouth, and then appears to delete the message. I watch her go through this process once more before she slides the phone into the back pocket of her shorts and pushes off the counter. One hand reaches for a bottle of vodka while the other grabs the tequila. She looks like an extra fromCoyote Uglythe way she flips both bottles upside down and begins filling her red solo cup. She tops it off with a splash of Diet Coke and crushes half a lime between her fist.
