Branson
(One Week Later)
“Hey, bro,”Knox shouts at me from across the room. “Can you get me another beer if you’re going in the kitchen?”
“For sure, man. I’ll be right back.”
We decided at the last minute to throw a party at the house, since we missed New Year’s. It’s Friday night; we’ve been back at school for a week now, and we’re ready to let loose. The party has been in full swing for about an hour and a half. The house is packed, music is blaring, and we’re all working on a good buzz.
Coming into the kitchen, Luca’s talking with Aston and Anderson. I take a moment to stare because he looks good enough to eat, which, if we’re being honest, I probably will tonight. He’s wearing black ripped skinny jeans and a plain tan t-shirt with his black combat boots. His hair, that he got cut this afternoon, is effortlessly styled, with what looks like maybe some gel. He’s had a few shots already tonight, so his cheeks are flushed and his ocean blue eyes are a little glossy.
Unable to stop myself, I walk up to where they’re all talking, grab a handful of his ass from behind, and plant a few open mouth kisses along his neck. Goosebumps break out on his flesh at the contact. I will never get tired of the way his body is so responsive to me. If I were to bring my hand around him, I know I’d find him sporting a chub already.
We told Anderson and Aston about us a few days after we got back to town. They were surprised, but like everyone else, supportive. It feels fucking good to be out in the open with my feelings for Luca, to be able to kiss him, or shamelessly flirt with him, without caring who could see or hear.
Just because something is different doesn’t always mean it’s wrong. My feelings for Luca could never be wrong.
“What’s up, guys. What did I miss?” I flash them my most charming smile.
“Hey, Bran,” Anderson says with a head nod.
“What’s up, man,” Aston offers as he finishes off his beer.
Luca turns around, grabs me by the back of my head, and lowers my lips to his for a quick kiss. “Hey, Bran Bran.”
Offering a mischievous smile, I suggest, “Want to do shots?”
Aston and Anderson say, “Fuck yeah,” at the same time, while Luca simply smiles.
“Hang on, let me get the rest of the guys in here.”
Running into the living room quickly, I yell for the guys. “Knox, Weston, Cash! Get your asses in here now!”
Back in the kitchen, I lay out seven shot glasses and start filling them up with red berry vodka. The guys make their way into the kitchen, and I hand everyone a shot.
Lifting up my shot glass, I say, “May our cocks always be harder than our lives! Cheers!”
A round of laughter sounds before everyone downs their shots.
“Weston, where’s Jessica?”
“She’s on her way, I guess.”
“It’s almost midnight. What’s taking her so long?”
“Who fucking knows. She’s a chick, I think that explains it all.”
Chuckling at that truth, I nod. “Touché, man.”
Cotton Candyby YUNGBLUD is playing through the speakers as Luca and I grab a couple more beers and make our way back to the living room. As we take a seat, the front door opens. In walks Jessica… and Courtney.
Fucking great.
We haven’t heard a fucking peep from her since the picture incident back home.
I look across the room toward the kitchen and see Weston, looking like a kid caught in the cookie jar. He finds my eyes and mouths, “I told her no!”
Luca stiffens when he sees her. “What the fuck is she doing here?”
“I’ll take care of it,” I say while getting up and walking toward them.
“Hey, Jessica. Glad you could make it. Cuntney, what the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”
“Fuck you, Branson. I can be here if I want.”
Man, I sure as fuck did not miss this bitch.
“Actually, no, you can’t. This is my house, and I fully get to say who can and can’t come inside.”
“What’s your fucking problem? It’s a party, don’t be such a little bitch.”
“My problem is I know for a fucking fact that my boy, West, told his girl not to bring you, yet here you are.”
Courtney glares pure daggers at Jessica, and I almost feel bad for bringing her into this.
Almost.
She did bring the wicked witch here, so she does deserve some of the heat.
“Is that true, Jessica?” She spits her name out like a slur. “You knew they didn’t want me here?”
“Uhh…” Jessica looks around, hoping for Weston to save her.