“Declan waspissedwhen Archer showed up.” Zander laughs. “I hope she’s sending his ass right home.”
“I don’t appreciate the way he speaks to her,” Archer mutters, poking the fire with a stick.
“Let her handle it. She’s okay,” I promise.
He only grunts in response, pulling a wine cooler out of the ice chest beside him and Zander and handing it to me. I twist the cap off, tossing it back in the chest before taking a sip. Sickly sweet watermelon fizz floods my mouth.
“Do you want one, Weston?” Archer asks. I realize I never formally introduced them to each other, but neither seems to mind.
Archer is a little timid, a little quiet and reserved, like Weston. My aunt and uncle joke that Zander stole all the noisewhen he came out first, screaming. Archer followed after, and has always been the calm to Zander’s storm.
“I’m okay. Thanks.”
Archer studies Wes for a moment, tilting his head before adding, “Water?”
Wes smiles. “That would be cool. Thanks.”
He passes a bottle to me, and I hand it to Weston, who nudges my shoulder as he takes it.
“Do you want water too? That’s your fourth drink.”
“Please,” I scoff. “I don’t need a babysitter, Weston. I’m great.”
I’m tipsy, for sure. I don’t drink often to begin with, so it doesn’t take much for me. This is the first time in months that I’ve wanted to get loose, though. The first time I’ve wanted to spend an evening being social and staying up late. I’ve been so afraid of feeling out of control, I haven’t felt safe. Not since before that last night with Parker.
Finally, with my family close by and Weston’s warmth beside me, I’m free enough to let my mind rest, and it feelsgood. I take another sip, smiling at Weston with my mouth full as I swallow.
He laughs, rolling his eyes.
When my eyes catch a figure walking in our direction, the alcohol slithering down my throat suddenly begins to burn. Tall, slim build, brown eyes, sandy brown hair that I know far too well.
Camden.
“Willow! Hey.” He smiles, jogging to close the distance between us, and I stand to greet him, mostly because I don’t want him to sit down and get comfortable next to me.
Camden isn’t a bad guy, and our breakup was amicable, but I wouldn’t say I trust him. I don’t have much desire to spend time around anyone I can’t trust these days, especially when there are substances floating in my body that make me less equippedat protecting myself. Plus, the messages he still sends me every time he’s drunk are clear indications that he’s not over our breakup, and I don’t feel like getting into that tonight.
Fuck. Maybe I shouldn’t have decided to drink.
I didn’t expect that he’d be here. He didn’t show up last year because I had Parker with me, and I figured it was still too raw for him.
I’m suddenly swaying on my feet, and as Camden reaches me, his arm shoots out, grabbing my hip to steady me. I tense at the contact, going rigid. Suddenly, Weston's presence enters my periphery as he stands too.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Camden continues, pulling me in for a hug.
I’m stiff against him, unable to return it. He slides a hand around my waist, curling at my lower back, way too close to my ass for comfort. Alarm shoots down my spine, and my body flinches on instinct.
It’s too familiar to the reaction I had that night. After I found out what Parker did, I was too paralyzed with fear and self-doubt to do anything about it in the moment. He fell asleep quickly, and when he turned over, throwing an arm over my stomach, my entire body seized.
I’d lain there, staring at the ceiling, silent tears streaming down my face. I was completely frozen, allowing him to touch me, lying in the bed where he’d made me hate myself.
I know... I know this moment isn't that, but my body is having the same reaction.
I’m trembling, unshed tears swimming in my eyes. I glance at Weston, who’s watching me with concern. All it takes is one look for him to recognize it—whatever this feeling I can’t describe is—and he’s pressing on Camden’s shoulder, shoving him off me, gentle but firm.
“You don’t need to touch her.”
Cam stumbles back, brows pinched as his eyes dart between Wes and me. “Sorry, who are you?” Keeping one arm on my hip, he tugs me closer to him. “Willow and I are... familiar. I think you can calm down.”
