I’d hardly had time to have two drinks all night, but now I could finally take a bit of a break. My indigo dress rode up my thighs as I leaned over the island. Amaya had helped me pick it out the last time we went shopping. It clung to my curves and had long sheer sleeves and a completely sheer back. Careful not to knock anything over, I grabbed the vodka bottle.
Someone came up behind me, beer breath washing over my cheek as their hands landed on my hips. “You look smokin’ tonight, princess.”
I gritted my teeth but made sure my voice was even when I answered. “Thank you, William.”
When he called me princess it was an endearment, an attempt to make me feel special. When Hendrix said it, it was delivered with derision. But why was I thinking about that asshole now?
I poured the vodka and searched the absolute mess in front of me for some kind of mixer, trying to sidestep out of Will’s grasp. “Are you having a good night? Where’s Drew and the others?”
He moved up next to me and slung an arm over my shoulders. “Who cares? I was hoping I could steal you away. It’s been a while since we . . . caught up.”
There were a lot of people in the room. I had to be careful about my reaction.
I was probably going to marry Will. He was the son of a prominent businessman and planned to follow in his father’s footsteps, and his mother was on the board of every charitable organization she could find. Our parents were friends and approved of us being together. Our life plans matched. He’d be the perfect husband, and I the perfect wife.
We’d dated exclusively for about six months in junior year, but I put a stop to that. I made it clear to Will I needed some time. It was around then that I started going to Davey’s. As much as I’d made peace with my future with Mr. Carboard, I couldn’t commit to it fully just yet.
We’d hooked up a few times since, but I’d made it very clear I wasn’t interested in anything serious until maybe a few years into college. I needed to focus on my studies.
I did need to focus on my studies and my volunteering and all the other things that would help me achieve my goals. But the truth was, Will was about as interesting in bed as you’d expect. He had an average-sized penis, he liked to do it missionary, and he had no idea what a clitoris was.
Maybe I was being a bit harsh, but Will just couldn’t give me what I needed.
“Hendrix?” Will sounded half-confused, half-angry.
Shit! Did I say something out loud? I wasn’t even drunk. “What?”
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Will took another swig of his beer as I whipped my head around.
Sure enough, there he was, making his way through the crowd and craning his neck as though he was looking for someone. He was in tight ripped jeans and a plain white tee under a dark green zip-up jacket, his hair messy in that intentional way. As he reached the other side of the island, he spotted me and froze, his eyebrows slamming into a frown.
I stiffened, ready to shrug Will off, but then Hendrix noticed his arm around me. When his eyes narrowed just a fraction, I decided to lean into my future husband’s side instead.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked the question that was on the tip of my tongue.
“It’s my house, asshole. What the fuck are you doing here?” I crossed my arms and cocked my head.
He looked even more confused “Clearly I had no idea. Otherwise I wouldn’t have willingly put myself in your proximity.”
“Clearly. So why are you still here?” I leaned on the counter, getting out from under Will’s drunken slouch. He was starting to lean a little too much weight on me.
“Turner invited me. I had no idea the girlfriend he can’t shut up about is Mena. Although I should’ve known. The two nicest people in Devilbend—of course they’re together.”
I snorted, failing to contain the smile. He was so right. “They’re so cute together it’s sickening.”
“Right?” He laughed.
I wiped the smile off my face, remembering we were in a room full of people who thought we hated each other. Because we did. Will kept looking between us, trying to solve some puzzle, but he was probably too drunk to even remember why he’d come over to me in the first place.
“Go find Drew and the guys, Will. Your beer is nearly gone.” I gestured with my head toward the back patio, and he gave me a smile.
“Good idea,” he slurred and stumbled away.
“Good boy,” Hendrix cooed after him once he was out of earshot. “Now fetch your balls.”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from laughing. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I didn’t even want him here. But this was Mena’s birthday—it wasn’t about me. “Fine. You can stay. But only because it’s Mena’s special day. Just don’t steal anything.”
He smirked. “Lighten up, Mead. It’s a party—and you don’t even have to find a way home. Have a drink or five. It might make your personality bearable.”
“I was just about . . .” I looked for my half-made drink, but he was already walking away. “Asshole.”
I downed the vodka in my cup straight, then spotted the bottle of OJ in the sink. Naturally. I poured myself another stronger one, then added the juice.
I would never admit it—not even to save the human race from extinction—but Hendrix was right. I wanted to lighten up and have a drink. I also needed one now that he was here.
I sipped my vodka and OJ as I mingled, trying to ignore the fact that he was in my house. Will had passed out in a chair by the fire, Drew and the others keeping an eye on him.
“Don’t let him puke in my house.” I pointed to him and raised my brows at Drew.
“On it.” He took another puff of what was clearly not a regular cigarette and passed it to Amaya. Harlow was in a fit of giggles next to her, she and Nicola losing their shit over something on her phone. Laughter bubbled up in my chest too. I had no idea what was so funny, but their mirth was infectious.
I was about to find a spot and join them, but then I noticed Hendrix just a few feet over, talking with Mena and Turner. They looked as if they were really getting along. And the mirth in my chest died. He was in my house, with my friends, in my life. And I wanted him gone . . . but I also kept trying to remember if my room was messy or not and what he’d think of it if he made his way up there. And that was just . . . ugh! Insane!
Shoving some skanky chick in platform heels out of the way, I headed back inside and downed the rest of my drink, dropped the empty cup into the mess on the counter, and located the vodka.
With the smooth glass of the bottle clutched firmly in my hand, I made my way back outside. Keeping my gaze ahead, I avoided everyone and took the stone steps down to the path leading to the pool.
As soon as I was away from everyone’s judgmental gazes, I could finally take a deep breath. The cool night air filled my lungs as I walked the manicured path, leaving the raucous sounds of the party farther behind me with every step.
It was chilly but still, and the water in the pool looked black—smooth glass reflecting the stars above. I sat at the edge and crossed my legs. The cap came off the bottle, and I took a swig, the alcohol burning my throat on the way down as much as the cool air had soothed it. The thumping bass and cacophony of laughing, talking voices in the background grew fainter with every sip.