“You’re either going to go get Allie or you’re going to let me in,” he informs me.
“And what you’re not going to do is come to my fucki—”
“Leave him alone, Jesse,” Allison snaps from behind me, cutting me off. I turn to face her. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes hard. A smart-ass retort is on the tip of my tongue, but something in her expression holds me back. She breezes past me, her sweet scent wafting behind her.
“Thanks for coming, Dylan.” Dylan. Dylan the Douche.
“You good?” he asks, looking her up and down, as if inspecting her f
or damage.
“Yeah. Just wet,” she mutters as Dylan ushers her down the steps with his hand on the small of her back.
“I have that effect on women,” I call out just to piss her off.
She glares at me over her shoulder, flipping me off as Dylan tightens his grip on her waist.
“Call me!”
Dylan opens the passenger door of his old school Dodge Challenger, and Allison slides in before he closes it. I watch her through the window, my hands shoved into my front pockets. A pair of slender hands circle my neck from behind, sliding down my chest, and then Kaylee or Kylie’s lips nibble on my ear. I hold Allie’s stare, the corner of my lip quirking up when I see the frown painting her pretty features. But she can’t look away, and neither can I.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Kylie, the more aggressive of the two best friends, whispers before scraping her teeth across my earlobe. The Challenger roars to life and I sever our connection, if only to be the one to look away first.
Fuck it. I was craving someone in Doc Martens and a perpetual attitude, but… “You’ll do.”
It’s bright. Too fucking bright. Eyes closed, I stumble out of bed, tripping over someone’s high heel on the way to the window, and jerk the curtains shut. Much better. I sit on the edge of the bed in the spare room at Sullivan’s house, propping my elbows on my knees and running my hands through my hair as I piece together the events of last night. After Allison left, I pounded shots, having fun with Kaylee and Kylie before I was too drunk to function. I sent them packing moments before falling into bed and passing the fuck out.
Head pounding, I slap around on the nightstand, feeling for my lighter and the half-smoked blunt I left there last night. I light it up, letting the smoke fill my lungs and ghost it, holding it as long as I can before a cough sputters out. I lie back, one arm behind my head, the other pinching the blunt to my lips once more, as I watch the rotating blade of the ceiling fan. The familiar buzz makes its way through my body, making me feel warm and heavy, and I’m just about to pass out again when my phone goes off.
I fumble around, finding it tangled in my sheets. “What?” I answer, without even checking the screen. My voice sounds rough as fuck, like I smoked eighty packs of cigarettes last night, and I clear my throat.
“Wake up, fucker,” says Dare, my sister’s boyfriend.
“What time is it?” I scrub a hand down my face.
“Noon. Your sister needs you at Blackbear. One of her servers quit and Sutton’s out of town.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Because she needs your help,” Dare says in that calm, yet menacing tone of his. “You owe her this at least.”
I roll my eyes, knowing this is Dare’s way of forcing us to patch things up. I haven’t talked to my sister since storming out of their house. We’re both stubborn as fuck, but our wars don’t usually last long. In a life full of chaos and drama, Lo has been the one constant. It’s always been us against the world. When we’re at odds, everything feels off-kilter. I weigh my options. I could tell him no and keep this beef going. Or I could do her a solid and use this as a way to clear the air. Plus, I can’t pass up the opportunity to fuck with Allison if she happens to be there. Unless she’s the one who quit.
“Time?” I grumble.
“Now.” Then he hangs up. Yeah, he’s pissed at me.
I stub out my blunt and snatch a towel from the back of a computer chair. I head for the shower, ignoring the voices trailing from downstairs. There’re always stragglers after a big party, and this morning is no exception. I take a piss, rubbing a hand across my chest as I take in my reflection. I have neon paint, lipstick, and glitter coating every inch of my torso. I jump into the shower and scrub that shit off in record time. I throw on a pair of black jeans and a white tee, then walk downstairs, taking the steps two at a time.
I take the last drag of my cigarette before putting it out in front of Blackbear. I’ve been stalling, but I have to face Lo sooner or later. She’s going to question me about where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing in between leaving school and coming here. I fucking hate lying to her, but I can’t tell her that. She wouldn’t understand. It’s the one area in which we’ve never seen eye to eye.
I push the door open, walking straight through the crowded dining area to the kitchen. A frazzled Lo stops in her tracks when she sees me, a tray in each hand, lopsided ponytail, and hair in her face. She cocks her head to the side. “What are you doing here?” she asks, suspicion lacing her tone.
“Dare said you needed help,” I supply. I should’ve known he didn’t tell her. Lo has way too much pride to ask for help. There’s no way she’d let Dare do it on her behalf.
“Well, he lied. You can go back to your downward spiral, or whatever the fuck it is that you’re doing.” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she walks away, dropping plates off at her tables. When she comes back to the kitchen, I see a flash of hurt in her eyes, and I know I put it there. It’s the main reason I didn’t come back to River’s Edge right away.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up.”