It’s freaking freezing outside, but the hot tub is cranked and packed to the tits—quite literally—with a lot of girls, and there are at least a dozen people out here smoking weed.
Since Mav and I are both on the college hockey team and there are random drug tests, we generally don’t partake. But we have two weeks off, so he’s all over getting fucked up.
Our parents took a spur-of-the-moment, four-day trip to Mexico for some pre-holiday sunshine, which means we have the run of the house with zero in the way of supervision for an entire weekend. Maverick is supposed to be keeping an eye on River and Lavender, who stayed here so they could hang out with their cousins. Instead of ensuring they stay out of trouble, though, Maverick has invited over every person he’s ever met in the area between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two. He figures what his parents don’t know won’t hurt them.
I’m already worried about things getting broken, what it’s going to cost to have the place cleaned, and someone posting pictures on the sly and tagging us.
I move out of the way as two girls in bikinis run by, shrieking at a decibel that’s likely to alert every dog in the neighborhood. They cram themselves into the hot tub with the rest of the girls, who keep asking us when we’re joining them.
Hot tubs are a petri dish of bacteria and regrets. Also, Maverick was in the hot tub earlier making out with his girlfriend, so there’s a high probability that his jizz is floating around in there.
“Do you even know half of these people?” I ask.
Maverick shrugs. “Nope. But if it gets out of hand, I’ll just call the police.”
“Some of them are underage,” I remind him.
“Everyone here is legal to drive and legal to vote. The fact that the drinking age doesn’t match those two things doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense.”
“Doesn’t actually change the fact that it’s a law, and we’re breaking it dozens of times over.” Not that I particularly care. It’s more that I don’t want Maverick to get himself in trouble over this party. He’s social, and I’m . . . really not. People require energy, and I prefer to put mine into one of two things: hockey and school.
Despite that, here I am. And not because Maverick is my best friend and pretty much forced me.
His younger brother, River, appears out of nowhere. He’s tall, lanky, and hates the entire world—apart from his twin, anyway. And football. He takes a deep haul from a joint.
“Where’d you get that?” Mav tries to grab it from him, but River ducks and spins out of the way.
“Where do you think? I pilfered it from Robbie’s botany experiment.” He motions to the greenhouse at the back of the property, tucked behind a copse of trees and dormant rose bushes. It’s locked up like Fort Knox, so none of the assholes here can get into it, but Mav knows where the key is, and apparently so does River. He sucks in another long drag and blows it in his brother’s face. His gaze slides to me and narrows for the briefest moment before returning to Maverick. “Lav is gonna be here in fifteen minutes.”
“I thought she was at some expo thing with L and L,” Maverick says.
“She was.”
“It’s only ten forty-five. Why are they coming back so early?”
River flicks his joint, ash falling to the deck beside my foot. “Mom and Dad gave her an eleven o’clock curfew.”
“They’re not even here to enforce it.”
River looks at him like he’s the dumbest asshole alive. He’s not; he’s drunk and high, so half his brain cells are asleep. “They track her phone.” The duh is clear in his tone.
That’s not exactly surprising. Lavender is the quintessential good girl, and highly unlikely to get into trouble, but everyone is still highly protective over her.
“Why wouldn’t she leave it at home?” Mav continues. “Then they wouldn’t know.”
River’s lip curls. “Do you honestly want our seventeen-year-old sister staying out until whatever o’clock in the morning without a damn phone?”
“Point taken,” Mav mutters. “You’re responsible for keeping an eye on her.”
“You know this isn’t her scene. Lavender will disappear upstairs, and you won’t see her until tomorrow.” River pulls his phone out of his pocket and frowns, which is the expression he wears about 90 percent of the time. “Oh, shit.”
The front door slams open, and in stumbles a group of girls.
What’s confusing, at first, is the fact that these girls seem to think it’s Halloween. They’re dressed in superhero costumes. And then the reality of who they are registers, and my entire body feels like it’s been dipped in fire and ice at the same time.
Dawson, one of the defensemen on the school hockey team, whose family lives about twenty minutes from here, inserts himself into our circle and lets out a low whistle. “Since when is this a costume party? You know what? Who cares? Dibs on the Wonder Tits.”
Mav dives in front of River, catching him around the waist when he launches himself at Dawson.
“You touch my sister, and I’ll cut your tongue out of your mouth and replace it with your dick,” River seethes.
“Whoa, whoa, Riv, calm down.” Mav struggles to keep his hold on him.
River might be two years younger, but he’s close to the same height, and he’s starting to fill out.
Dawson laughs nervously. “Sister? Shit, man. Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You breathe in her direction, and I will knock every single one of your teeth out of your mouth, dickhead.” He elbows Mav in the side. “Let me go, asshole, or I’ll embarrass the shit out of you by kicking your ass.”
Mav shoves him away. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
River takes a deep haul off the joint, flicks the roach at Dawson, and blows the smoke in my face. “She’s died enough deaths over you, Kodiak. Stay away from her.”
“Twinsie!” Lavender stumbles through the open French doors, tripping over the one-inch lip. She nearly goes down, but River scoops her up and sets her on her feet. She hugs him around the waist.
“What the fuck?” River looks down at his sister, her face plastered against his chest. “Are you drunk?”
“I’m fine,” Lavender mumbles into his shirt.
He looks to Lovey and Lacey for an answer. “Is she drunk?”
“We’re so sorry,” they say in unison. “She had Jell-O cups in her bag, one for each of us, but since Lacey and I are vegan, we can’t eat Jell-O, so she ate all three.” Lovey wrings her hands.
“Shiiiittt.” Maverick kneads the back of his neck. “Well, that explains where the Jell-O shooters disappeared to.”
Lovey gives him her best disapproving look. “Jell-O shots are supposed to go in those tiny plastic glasses, not giant pudding-cup containers! How much alcohol was in those?”
“I dunno, like a mickey? I didn’t have any of the small ones, and Lav has been on a Jell-O kick like she’s seven again, so I figured I was doing the world a favor by recycling. Plus, we’re dudes.” He motions to me and the other guys. “Pudding-cup-sized shots seem way more reasonable.”
“You’re an idiot, Mav,” River snaps. “Look at her.” He motions to Lavender, who’s still hugging her brother. “If she pukes, you’re cleaning it up.”