“And then he’ll get busted, and anyone using at the party will end up in jail.”
I shook my head, my leg bouncing under the table with my excitement. “No way. It’s out in the country. No cops for miles. Dude, come on. I know you’ve got a stash of cash. Spot me?”
“You’ll get yourself in trouble doing this. I’ve seen you on coke. You forget to be responsible.”
I shoved his arm. “Aw, come on, Den. Don’t be a spoilsport.” I hated it when he tried to insert logic into his arguments. “It’s just a party. Why do you have to be like that?”
“Who are you going with?”
“Corey.”
“I don’t like him. How are you getting there?”
I wanted to roll my eyes and shake my brother until his stuffy attitude fell away. “Oh my god, stop. Will you spot me the money or not?”
He held my gaze, his hazel eyes intense and steady. I knew he was picking it all apart in his smart brain and deciding the best answer. I also knew he would cave because Denver hated to upset me.
Did I use it to my advantage? Sometimes.
“Fine. I’m coming with you.”
I stalled, my excitement waning. Ordinarily, I dragged my brother to all kinds of parties, insisting he relax and have fun. I’d hook him up with guys I knew were easy. But this party?
I cringed. “I’m not sure this one will be your speed.”
Denver could drink and unwind when he wanted to, but the rest of the implied entertainment was probably more than he could handle. Somehow, my brother didn’t seem like the easygoing, fuck-in-a-room-full-of-strangers type of guy.
“Don’t care. If you want the money, then I’m going with you. Someone needs to make sure you don’t OD or do anything stupid. Corey won’t care. I do.”
“You’re going to stifle my buzz and wreck my fun, aren’t you?”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“What if I want to fuck my way through the crowd or snort a few lines?”
“I don’t care about that. You know I don’t. But if you’re out of your head, you need someone watching your back.”
“Jesus.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. Partying with Denver was one thing, but being chaperoned by him was a whole level of humiliating I wasn’t willing to accept.
“Fine, but you are not going to be the DD. You’re drinking and fucking and having fun like the rest of us. If you want to hold back a bit and keep your wits about you, that’s your choice, but you aren’t going to cower in the corner, especially if I have to talk Ramon into letting you go.”
Denver showed a brief moment of discomfort, but he packed that shit away fast, knowing I’d fight him on this. “I know how to have fun.”
“I know you do. Sometimes. When you try. You know, if it wasn’t for me, you’d be best friends with your right hand, and you know it. I’m the only reason you ever get your dick sucked. You’re welcome, by the way, and this party will be no exception.”
Denver fiddled with his pen on the table. “I’m in.”
“Okay. Cool. Now I need three hundred bucks.”
Chapter Two
Denver
I glared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, working my thick brown hair into something resembling a style. It was unruly and growing longer than I liked, but Harley told me it was sexier with more length, and he knew more about this stuff than I did.
I’d been second-guessing this party ever since I’d agreed to go, which was typical. I wished I had Harley’s frivolous and free-spirited nature. He never thought twice about stuff like this. He was driven by an ingrained urge to have fun with life, consequences be damned. Sure, it meant his grades suffered, and his future in any job market was bleak, but I envied his passion and impulsiveness.
A knock sounded on my dorm room door. Since my roommate was gone, I called out for my brother to come in, figuring that was who was there.
Harley entered, a wave of spicy cologne clouding around him. Harley was nineteen to my twenty-one, and we didn’t look alike. He and Vanya took after Mom with their wheat blond hair and slightly darker brows. They both had a warm skin tone that made them always seem slightly tanned—even in the winter—and their smoky gray eyes held a world of mischief. When they smiled, they both sported dimples.
I took after Dad; dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and thick facial hair I’d had to shave daily since I was eighteen. Harley and I were built the same. Our six feet of height trumped our sister’s. Vanya was what people called petite with her five five frame and size-two waistline. Harley had a natural runner’s body without exercise or weight training, whereas I frequented the gym to stay in shape because I tended to pack on extra pounds around the middle with ease.
Personality-wise, it amazed people we were related.
“Did you bathe in a bottle of cologne?” I cleared the tickle from my throat and waved at the air in front of me for effect.
“Whatever. Are you ready to go?” Harley scanned me once, and I waited for his approval. The pinched expression on his face told me I’d failed. “Lose the polo. Seriously, Den? A polo? Find a tight T-shirt that makes your biceps pop. You look like a preppy do-gooder, and we’ll get turned away at the door even if we are on the ‘allowed’ list.”
I didn’t argue. I shed the polo I’d spent an hour choosing and found a solid red T-shirt that went well with my dark hair.
“Are my jeans okay?” I’d chosen a newer pair but realized too late it might have been better to pick the worn ones with holes. “Never mind. I’ll change them.”
Harley chuckled. “What would you do without me?”
I’d probably never get laid, but I didn’t think his ego needed to be stroked, so I didn’t answer him.
Dressed again, I stood in front of the mirror, fighting with my hair. Harley came up behind me and used both hands to thoroughly mess it up.
“What the fuck?” I batted his hands away, scowling.
“See, now it looks good.”
I sneered at my reflection. “I spent forever styling it.”
“Yup, and I spent five seconds fixing it.” Harley rooted through a few bathroom drawers. “Don’t you have cologne?”
“No. But I think you have enough on for both of us.”
With that comment, Harley pulled a dick move and rubbed his chest against me, laughing as I tried to push him away. He wouldn’t relent.
“Here, have some.”
“Stop.” But I was laughing and losing the battle as he smeared his body against mine.
He mashed me against the wall in the bathroom and continued his pathetic cat-like advances, rubbing his smell all over me.
“Dude, seriously. I feel violated. It’s like you’re scent-marking me. Next, you’ll piss on my leg and make this way weirder.” I shoved him away, but Harley was halfway to the bathroom mirror, laughing and uncaring as he admired himself.
“You’ll have fun tonight, right? You aren’t gonna be a wallflower and let your big stupid brain talk you out of a little party action, are you?”
“I’ll have fun.”
“Don’t make me force it down your throat, because I will.”