“You okay?” He eyed me carefully. “You seem... wound up.”
“Me? I’m fine. Nothing a little shot of Tequila won’t fix. Am I right?” I hollered and the house exploded with cheers as people raised their cups and beers, fist pumping the air like they were at a Black Hearts Still Beat concert.
“You could have given us a heads up. I’d rather not entertain the masses tonight.”
“You’re still pissed about the exhibition game?”
“I just thought it was going to be low key. The three of us and the girls.” His eyes flicked over to where Flick stood.
“Something going on with the two of you?” I asked. He seemed off, and if it wasn’t the game, it only left a handful of things. Felicity was at the top of the list.
“Nah, we’re good.”
As if she heard him, Flick came over to us, tucking herself into Jason’s side. “This is... wow. I was not expecting this tonight.”
“School’s out for the holidays. It’s almost a new year. Graduation is right around the corner. What’s not to celebrate?” I shrugged.
“Are you okay?” she narrowed her eyes at me.
“Jeez, what is up with everyone? Can’t a guy be psyched for the holidays?”
“Asher,” Felicity edged closer to me, laying a hand on my arm. “You can talk to us… if something’s wrong.”
Just then the front door opened and another swarm of people poured in. It was getting rowdy but I hadn’t exactly considered the consequences after the strained conversation with my father. His parting words had been to keep things respectable if I had friends over. But all I’d heard was, ‘throw the biggest fucking party you can’. Because this—rebelling against his orders—was the only way I maintained a tiny bit of control over my life. But no one knew that. Because I was Asher fucking Bennet.
Mr. Popular.
Skilled athlete.
Notorious flirt.
And persistent joker.
I was the life and soul of the party. Not the fun sponge, absorbing the good times away, and bringing the mood down.
“Duty calls,” I said to my friends, unable to stand their looks of concern for a second longer.
Tonight was about celebrating.
It was about getting wasted and having fun.
But most of all, it was about sticking it to the man I called Dad and the future he had all laid out for me.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
Cameron eyed the cup in my hand, and I raised it into the air; liquor—vodka, tequila, whisky, I’d lost count of what I was drinking—sloshing up the sides.
“Oopsie,” I hiccupped before chugging down the rest of it. “Now, I’ve had enough.” Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I strained my eyes to see better. Everything was spinning.
Whoa.
Why the fuck was everything spinning?
“Maybe it’s time to—”
“Party!” I yelled, grabbing the nearest body to me and thrusting its arm in the air. A girl’s laughter washed over me.
“Hey, Asher,” she said.
“Hey... uh...”
“Lucy.”
“Lucy, hey.” I smiled, turning on the Asher Bennet charm. “How about me and you—”
“Okay, that’s enough.” A heavy arm landed on my shoulder, pulling me away from the pretty blonde and marching me down the hall.
“Hey, man, I was just about to—”
“Hit on your teammate’s girl?”
“Shit, that was Felicity? I didn’t—”
“Jesus, how much have you had to drink? It wasn’t Felicity; it was Lucy, Peterman’s girlfriend.”
“Fuck,” I slurred.
“Yeah, fuck.” Cameron manhandled me into the bathroom at the back of the house. I stumbled onto the toilet and dropped my head into my hands.
“Everything’s spinning.”
“I’m not surprised. Ready to tell me what’s really going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“The party. You drinking your way through your dad’s liquor cabinet like you’re on a one-way mission to getting your stomach pumped.”
“We’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating, you really expect me to believe that? I know you, Asher, and something’s up.”
“You think you know...” I grumbled, swaying slightly. My hand shot out, steadying me. “You haven’t got any idea what it’s like sometimes.”
“So talk to me, man. I’m right here.”
“It’s my...” I slumped off the toilet and yanked the lid up just in time to empty my stomach contents into the bowl.
“I’ll get you some water.” The door opened and closed as Cam left me to nurse a stomachache—and my pride—on the expensive floor tiles.
After flushing the toilet, I managed to pull a hand towel off the rail and turn on the faucet. I cleaned my face and laid down on the tiles as the room spun around me.
When the door opened again, I held out my hand, not bothering to open my eyes.
“Here.”
Shit.
That wasn’t Cameron.
“Thanks.” I took the bottle from Mya and dragged myself into a seated position. The water tasted like shit going down, but it soothed my throat.
“When did you get here?” Mya hadn’t arrived with Felicity and I hadn’t seen her all night. Unless...
“I’ve been here long enough.”
Fuck.
“Want to talk to about it?”
“Is that why Cameron sent you in here?” I peeked up at her. “To try to coax the truth out of me?”
“No, I offered.”
“Why? I’m no one to you, right?”
“Asher, that’s not fair.” Mya perched on the edge of the bathtub.
My friends didn’t live in houses like this. Houses with an excessive number of bathrooms and guest rooms and jet skis on the lake. But their jealousy was misplaced because what they didn’t know was, money meant fuck all when it came at a price.
A price I’d never asked to pay but had to anyway.
“No? Well life isn’t fucking fair.” I closed my eyes, bringing a hand to my head, hoping the room would stop spinning.
“What am I going to do with you?” Mya sounded closer. She was closer. I felt her fingers on my forehead, softly brushing the hair from my face.
My eyes snapped open, my fingers curling around hers. “What are you doing?” I ground out, hating that I sounded like an ungrateful bastard. But her touch was like kryptonite. Hitting me right where it hurt most—my heart.
“Just because we can’t be together doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Now stop being a stubborn ass and let me help you.”
Mya gently pulled me up until I was sitting. I still felt as sick as a dog but at least everything was stationary now. “Cameron and Jason must really hate me, huh?”
“Hate you?” Her brown eyes softened. “Those guys love you like a brother. You’re lucky to have them.”
“Right, that’s me, Asher Lucky Bennet.”
Shit, I’d heard that one too many times over the years.