“Good. Spending a lot of time with the douchebag Colin.”
“I looked him up.”
“And?”
“You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Why would I worry about him?”
Nick throws his hands up. “No reason.”
Since we’re nearly at the door of Waite’s house, I don’t pursue this any further. Charlotte doesn’t like Colin. She’s forced to spend time with him. There’s no reason at all that I have to worry about the two of them.
Inside the house there are wall-to-wall people. Thankfully Nick and I can muscle our way past the crowd. It only takes a couple of people to drop away before a path is cleared for us.
Juliette is sitting on the patio in a lounger with several sycophants around her. She languidly raises her hand in greeting. “The Jackson boys are here. I suppose we can now start the party.”
A few of the guys look older—college aged—and they glare at us, but Nick and I are solidly built. We could take them. In fact, it might be kind of fun. I haven’t had a brawl for a long time. It’s not like I’m beating on someone weaker than me. I step back and allow my arms to hang loosely at my side. Nick steps to the side to provide spacing and adopts a similar stance.
Three of Juliette’s subjects get to their feet, their Greek letters straining across their drug-assisted chests.
“‘Boys’ is right,” says the one in the middle. He must be the leader. The music continues to play, but the energy on the patio has changed. There’s a charge in the air, and everyone out here senses it.
“I’ve got the guy in the middle,” I say softly to Nick. “You take the guy on the right. The one on the left looks like he’ll flail around searching for a partner.”
“Got it.” He nods.
The leader charges me, and I spare a glance to Juliette. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement. Yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing inviting these meatheads here. She probably talked up the fact that we were high schoolers, and these frat guys showed up to teach us a thing or two. Good luck.
I meet their leader in the middle, about five feet from Juliette’s lounger, and he swings at me. It’s an obvious that is meant to lay me out with one punch, but I can tell by the wide sweep of his right arm as it moves toward me that he’s never fought before. Or if he has, it’s been with people as inept as he is. His primary move seems to be the right jaw punch, only it doesn’t land. I step sideways, and he stumbles between Nick and me.
Nick grins at me but has to turn back to his smaller, but more experienced, opponent. I watch as Nick swerves to avoid a combination and then counters with an open-palm slap to the face. It’s a complete insult, and his opponent draws back to blink in surprise while everyone around them giggles. I shake my head. One of these days Nick’s arrogance will be the end of him, but not today. The slap spurs his opponent to charge, and Nick allows himself to be pushed back into a table.
I’m prevented from watching more when my guy comes roaring back. He’s watched too many mixed martial arts fights on television because this time he tries an elbow to the forehead. It’s not a bad move as an elbow can have a greater impact on a target than a fist. But it has to land to do any damage. I duck, hook his elbow and draw him close until we’re flush together. Then I press my other hand on the low of his back and pretend for a moment we’re dancing. This draws a roar from the crowd and a fevered look of rage from my opponent.
“Don’t like dancing?” I mock. Spittle is starting to form at the sides of his mouth. “You really picked a mouthbreather this time, Juliette.”
I push him away before he slobbers all over me. Yeah, okay. I’m as arrogant as Nick. The leader motions to the third guy, who has been watching us, and they both rush me. One of them gets a lucky fist to the side of my jaw, and I feel another fist in my gut. The adrenaline is flooding me, and since I’ve not had sex in weeks, this feels almost as good.
The third player is about six inches shorter than I am. He must have gotten the body shot in. He needs to go down first. I duck to avoid a punch from the big guy and then turn my body toward the third player. Two knees into the rib cage have him folding in half. I finish him with an elbow strike to the temple since he’s lower than me, and he crumples to the ground.