When Rivals Fall (Bayshore Rivals 1)

“Which one of the three musketeers is it this time?” Shelby asks, while applying her foundation with a large makeup brush.

“Neither, it’s my dad,” I say.

She lifts a curious brow, “Wow, what could he possibly want?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” If there is one person I would enjoy talking to less than the Bishops, it’s my dad. Pushing the decline button, I stare at the screen before powering it off. Whatever it is he has to say, I don’t want to hear it.

???

Despite my better judgment, I let Shelby talk me into a short dress, at least it’s not a mini skirt. I know I shouldn’t play with fire, but after our conversation earlier the wheels in my head started to turn. Maybe if I made them as uncomfortable as they make me, they would back off a little? Then again, I don’t know. Blurring the lines further doesn’t seem like a good idea.

I pull at the bottom of the tight material as I sit down in Shelby’s car, making sure I’m covered in all the important spots.

I’m not sure if the guys know that I left or that I’m headed to a party. They seem to keep tabs on me pretty well. Sometimes I even wonder if they planted a tracker on me. They’re that good at knowing where I am and when.

“I’m so excited. Aren’t you excited?” Shelby asks, and I swear she must have drunk two energy drinks and ate a pound of sugar before we left because there is no logical reason for her to be bouncing around in her seat with the smile she’s wearing.

“A little, I guess.” I shrug. I’m more nervous than anything. Mostly because I haven’t been to another party since the night the brothers confronted me. I know it’s going to be even worse tonight after all the rumors that have been spread about me.

“We’ll have fun. Just don’t let them get to you. Just like you said earlier, don’t let them bother you. In fact, maybe you should find another guy, explore your options.” I know she’s right, but I can’t help it. My track record with parties is horrendous. Every time I go somewhere it ends up being a disaster. The police get called, or I get pulled into dark rooms by brooding brothers.

The list goes on.

We get to the port a few minutes later to find the parking lot leading to the pier is already filling up. We quickly find a spot and get out of the car. The first thing I notice is that most cars on the lot have a Bayshore University permanent parking sticker on the back windshield. I was really hoping that there would be more people from out of town instead of the entire college.

The knot in my stomach grows, the pressure mounting when I see the girl from my building who called me out the other night.

This is a bad start to the night.

Seemingly unaware of my darkening mood, Shelby takes my hand and walks me down to the pier where the yacht is docked. Music is blaring from inside and lights are strung on the outside, illuminating the darkness. The yacht’s already packed with people, their chatter meeting my ears.

“Oh my gosh, this is so pretty,” Shelby gasps, her excitement infectious. I smile while we are crossing the little metal bridge onto the boat. My best friend’s enthusiasm finally catches up with me and some of the tension starts to dissipate.

Stepping onto the shiny deck my wedges hardly make a sound. Shelby drags me across the deck following a string of lights leading to the party.

“What do you want to do first?” She inquires.

“Drink?” It’s probably best to get some liquid courage in me before the brothers find out I’m here. Shelby tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder and starts to tug me in the direction of what looks like a bar, the entire thing lined with bottles, and cups.

“I thought you weren’t going to come?” My body tenses at the gravelly voice behind me. With my hand still connected to Shelby’s I spin around to face Banks. I’m about to spit out a snarky remark but whatever it was I was going to say gets stuck in my throat when I see him standing there. He looks like he’s just stepped off a movie set.

My mouth waters, and the muscles in my belly tighten. He looks at me with the same heated gaze that I’m looking at him with, and I swear it’s a good thing we’re on the water because this entire thing might light on fire with these heated glares.

I drink him in. He’s wearing a black button up shirt with the top button undone and tailored gray slacks. With one hand in his pocket, he looks like a fashion model striking a pose, and even worse it takes no effort at all. He’s flawless looking without a single imperfection, and while I don’t look bad either, I don’t look like the other girls here.