“Luke, you’re buzzed,” Grant says as I head toward the bonfire. Madeline sees me coming and turns away to ignore me. She’s trying to ruffle my feathers, and she’s succeeding. The only good thing about her not facing me is I get to take her in. My eyes are eating up every inch of her legs and her perfectly round ass. My mouth waters to bite it. What the actual fuck? Did I really just think that?
Lana steps into my path, blocking my perfect view. “Hey there.” I don’t respond; I just stare down at her, annoyed at the interruption. I close one eye and open it again.
“Are your lips growing?”
“What?” Lana’s face scrunches. “Why do you have to always be a dick?” She licks her lips.
“Why are you always trying to get on my dick?”
“If I wanted on your dick, Luke”—she places her hand on my chest—“then I would be.”
“Get your fucking hand off me,” I grit out. My father always had women coming and going from the house. There had been a few that had tried to get inappropriate with me. I have always appeared older than I am, but they knew. They just didn’t care. At first, they’d play up this motherly role, and then it would progress.
“Holy crap, chill.” She drops her hand. “Why are you always like this? I never did anything.” Lana’s life is all about making other people’s lives hell. I suppose we have that in common. It seems that her home life may not be as perfect as she tries to portray.
“Lana—”
“Well, I’ve never done anything to you.”
“What you could do is get me a beer.” Lana’s fat lips press together. It makes me want to itch my own.
“Fine.” She forces a smile onto her face. “Maybe that can be our truce.” I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I don’t care either as long as I get my beer.
The sound of Madeline’s laughter pulls my attention back to her. Now Grant is talking to her. Quick little opportunistic shit.
“We need to talk,” I tell Madeline. I glare at Grant to fuck off.
“Then talk.” She stares up at me, and I can see her annoyance.
“I’m not sure you want to do that in front of everyone,” I warn.
“Got your drink.” Lana shoves the beer between Madeline and me. I take it.
“We should talk later,” Madeline says dismissively.
“We’ll talk now.”
“Luke.” Lana says my name, trying to get my attention.
“Yeah, Luke, Lana is talking to you.” Madeline smirks, then the little brat plucks my beer from my hand and takes a long pull from it.
“Come,” I say, grabbing her bicep, making sure not to do it too hard.
“Seriously?” She growls at me but doesn’t fight or try to jerk from my hold.
“Stop being a brat.”
“Stop being an asshole,” she fires back.
“No.” I keep moving, heading down the hill to where there is a boathouse next to the lake.
“You do know it’s creepy to force a girl to go alone with you at night.”
I ignore her remark. She’ll be fine, and again, she’s not putting up a fight. “Why don’t you ever wear pants?”
“What?” A small laugh leaves her. It hits me mid-chest. I’ve heard her laugh before. The sound is sweet and warm. Madeline laughs with her whole body. It hits differently this time because I was the one that provoked it. I have this stupid urge to bang on my chest.
“You’re always in a skirt or shorts.”
