I turn to see what he's looking at, and when I catch his gaze locked on Amelia, I'm ready to stab him. “Not a fucking chance, Trayland.”
“What?” he asks, feigning innocence.
“You keep your damn hands to yourself when it comes to her, or I'll cut them off myself.”
He glances over at Amelia and then back at me before chuckling. “Ah, I get it.”
I shake my head. “You get nothing. She's Easton's little sister, and I'm not about to let her become your next fucking conquest.”
“Right.” He smirks and steps around me. “Are you going to piss on her, too? Really claim your territory?”
“Fuck you.”
His head falls back as laughter bellows out of him. “No. Fuck her.”
With a nod at Jace, the two of them disappear. Since the moment she walked in, my mind focused entirely on her. Nothing else seems to matter.
I pull the joint out of my pocket and bring it to my lips.
If I have to deal with her looking like that, I can’t do it sober.
My eyes widen as I look around the crowded room. It’s not that I’m a total newb when it comes to parties, but I never expected this many people to be here. You can hardly get through the sea of students to make it across the room, let alone throughout the house.
Like something I don’t stand a chance of having control of, my eyes instantly find Zayn. He’s leaning up against the counter in the kitchen, smoking a joint and looking hot as hell doing it. His gaze meets mine, and the corner of his mouth raises in a smirk before he exhales and the smoke fills the air in front of him.
I bite my lip to suppress an embarrassingly wide smile and turn toward Kennedy. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
She sighs. “I know you can. Look at you! You look fucking hot. He’d be crazy not to realize that.”
Just as Kennedy grabs my wrist and goes to pull me toward Zayn, Easton steps in front of us. I don't think I've ever been so glad to see my brother in my life. She lets go and flips her hair, smiling at him.
“You made it,” he greets me, then looks at my roommate. “Kenna, right?”
She giggles. “Close. Kennedy.”
Thankfully, he's either oblivious to her flirting or he isn't interested. “Sorry, Kennedy.”
“I need a drink,” I tell him. “I'm parched. What alcohol do you have?”
He narrows his eyes on me. “For you? I have a juice box.”
Ugh. “Really, E? Don't be such an alcoholic cock block.”
Bringing his fist to his mouth, he almost gags. “If I ever hear the word cock come out of your mouth again, I'm going to lose my mind.”
The corner of my mouth raises in a smirk. “Cock. Big, hard, veiny cock.”
He puts his fingers in his ears and starts yelling to block out my voice. Kennedy and I laugh at his antics. Finally, he drops his hands and gives in.
“Keg’s in the kitchen. Just don't get carried away.”
“I make no promises.”
OKAY, SO MAYBE I should have taken his advice a little more seriously. After more beers than necessary, as well as a couple shots, the room seems to move on its own. However, I'm not wound up anymore, so that's always a positive.
I'm leaning up against a wall talking to some guy while Kennedy flirts with his friend. Don't ask me their names, though. There isn't a chance in hell that I remember them. Kennedy thought the friend was cute, and since I'm still nowhere near ready to go talk to Zayn, she mumbled something about me needing to be her wingman.
Silly Kennedy. I'm a woman.