“What’s up, snowflake?” I slap my sore hand on his shoulder as we hug.
“We’re rollin’ hard tonight waiting on your lazy ass.”
He pulls away slightly to grin at me. His shirt is missing, and he’s sweating like a damn pig. Every woman in this place salivates over his tattoos and muscles. Seth’s the body of our group. The one all the girls want to fuck. I’m the face—the one they all want to look up at while they suck cock. Owen’s clearly the dick and our fearless leader, and Riley? I don’t know what the fuck Riley is.
I drag my eyes down his front, wishing I had half the muscle mass he does. When he’s not getting fucked up, he works out hard. My lazy ass just watches. Thank fuck I was born with good genes. My workout is the stage when I play guitar with Owen and sing my fucking soul out.
“You and your girl come to party?” He throws his arm over my shoulders so he can check out Pink Leggings Girl.
She blushes and gazes at us with stars in her eyes.
Seth whistles at her. “Damn, sweetheart, you are lookin’ fine in those bubblegum pants. My boy here likes to share.” He looks up at me, smirking. We’ve fucked the same woman a time or two. Okay, so maybe more than two.
“Um, yeah?” she says, beaming. “I’m down for whatever. I love you guys. I’ve been obsessed with you both since I heard your first song.”
“And you haven’t even seen Zavee’s pretty dick yet, doll,” Seth says with a laugh as he boldly grabs it through my jeans. “Aw, he’s hard too. My boy’s always hard and ready to fuck.”
I shove his hand off my cock. “She’s mine tonight,” I snap, anger surging up inside me. “Go find your own piece of ass.”
The girl smiles shyly at me, like I just told her she’s the one and I’m going to fucking marry her. Truth is, I don’t trust myself right now. Not with Seth looking like a fucking snack and grabbing on my cock like he owns it.
Seth plays off my anger and grabs my arm to guide me over to a table. He nods at one of the guys chopping some blow with a razor. Needing the fire, I lean forward, snorting a line from the plate. Seth slaps my ass, laughing, and I fucking explode.
Swirling around, I clock him right in the fucking face. He may be bigger than me, but he’s stunned by my aggression. Blood spurts from his nose, and my first thought is how pissed Ronan will be that I fucked Seth’s face up before our photoshoot tomorrow.
Seth, raging like a bull, charges. He slams into me, knocking me hard to the ground. His fist hits my ribs, and pain slices through me. I manage to flip him over and glance up in time to see Pink Leggings Girl filming me again. I grin at the camera.
BAM!
My vision goes black as Seth punches me. I’m about to swing again when two guys rush us. Owen starts yelling at Seth while Riley steps between us. Seth and I are both hellbent on getting to the other, but Owen and Riley—the only two people who truly care about us—prevent that from happening.
“What the actual fuck?” Owen demands, his pants hanging open where he’s barely pulled them up over his still hard dick after his getting laid in my living room. One of his hands is on Seth’s chest, pushing him away from me.
I drag my eyes from the visible part of Owen’s cock and hate myself for wondering what he smells like there. Who the fuck wonders that shit?
Riley holds me back when I start forward, my eyes latching on Seth’s. Regret washes over his features. It’ll be all over social media in the morning and we both know it. When I hear sirens, Owen curses.
“Come on,” Riley growls. “Let’s get you out of here.”
I break from his hold. My body is buzzing from the drugs and my fists ache to pummel Seth some more. But my eyes keep sliding to Owen’s dick. Dark, trimmed hair. Tattoos all over his lower abdomen. Did Lex have the same cock?
Pain assaults me from the inside out, exploding like a bomb.
I charge for Owen, hellbent on making him pay too. I’ve barely raised my fist before Riley yanks me back. My foot swings out, and I clip Owen in the nuts with my boot. He howls, then charges, sending me and Riley splashing into the pool. The cold water is a wakeup call as we sputter and swim to the surface.
So many phones.
Everywhere.
How do I explain this to Mom and Dad?
And Ronan.
Holy shit…and Asshole Cop.
I wish I could fucking drown right now.
Pulling up to my condo after working fifteen hours straight, I debate ignoring the ringing of my cell phone. Ronan’s name flashes like a warning, and despite my need for sleep, I answer.