When I hit the living room, it was full of people as if we were, in fact, having the party here. Some were already pregaming it, passing a bottle of vodka around. I could smell the familiar scent of weed in the air. I partook in both sometimes. They were legal, and I was of legal age, so why not? Pot was against NCAA guidelines, but luckily Coach didn’t randomly test.
Tonight I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, ready to get out of there, not caring about the buzz. “We leaving or what?”
“Why are you in such a hurry?” Collins asked.
“Because we just won our first game of the season and I don’t want to be home?” I lied—well, partly.
“Hell yeah!” Ford yelled. “Go Kings!”
Everyone started fist-bumping and chest-thumping, and while I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t right in the middle of it, all I could picture was Braxton rolling his eyes if he saw us. He’d think it was ridiculous, but I didn’t see the problem in enjoying things. We were only young once. Why not have some fun?
Everyone stumbled out of the house. People were barbecuing, chilling in the hammocks, and enjoying the fact that it was January and we lived in a place where we weren’t freezing our balls off at night.
It was a quick walk to Shenanigans. No one driving by would think twice about the crowds of college people filling the streets. It felt like San Luco was our town, like it was made for FU and all of us who went there. It had always been the plan to move back east when I graduated, to work for Dad, but I wasn’t sure I could imagine leaving here.
Shenanigans was right by the beach, the sand and ocean not far behind it. As it normally was on the weekends, the place was packed. The second we walked in, people cheered, congratulating us on the win. Peyton approached me right away. “One and zero, baby,” I told him, boasting our win and no loss record.
“You play a sport or something?” he asked. “I didn’t realize FU had any, other than football.”
“Oooh!” Cobey, one of the guys from his team, said. He was a big guy, over six feet—friendly with a killer smile, but I wasn’t sure he had a lot going on upstairs.
“Yeah, not all of us play basic games like you,” I teased back, making him chuckle. “Don’t act like you weren’t in the stands, cheering for me.”
“Good game, Langley.”
“I know,” I replied, and Peyton shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with me. I got that reaction a lot.
“Yeah, good game, man,” Cobey added, and we bumped fists.
The crowd around us was thick, making it nearly impossible to move. It wasn’t so much that the bar was that full, more that everyone wanted to give their props to the team. I glanced toward the bar, and when I did, I saw Braxton watching. When I smiled, he gave me the finger, making my stomach feel strangely fluttery. Fuck, was everything foreplay with this guy? I was stuck between wanting nothing to do with him and needing more. He was that addicting.
“Hey, Ty. You played well today.” A small hand wrapped around my bicep, and I looked over to see a gorgeous girl with long red hair and a really great mouth.
“Hey yourself. And thank you.” I grinned. She did the same. She was really hot. I should stick around. Normally, I would, but there was this pull inside me, luring me toward the bar. I hadn’t gotten a chance to flaunt my win to Braxton yet.
My gaze made its way toward him again. He wasn’t looking at me while he poured a drink, but I had a feeling he had been, that if I’d checked seconds earlier, our eyes would have caught again.
“Wanna get a beer?” she asked.
I fucking loved to flirt, loved when people went after what they wanted—man or woman. Still, I found myself saying, “I’m actually meeting someone tonight.”
“Oh. Well, your loss.” The redhead winked, and I couldn’t even deny that she might be right.
“I’m sure it is.”
“Good game, though.” She slipped away. I had no doubt she would find exactly what she was looking for. It just wasn’t me. Not until I got this shit with Brax out of my system.
It took me at least twenty minutes to work my way to the bar. Every time I tried, I got stopped by someone. Brax was just finishing ringing up a customer when I leaned over the counter, elbows resting on the wood.
“Aren’t you gonna congratulate me?” I asked with a grin.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Aw, but I won for you, Sunshine. I feel so unappreciated.”
“What happened to your girlfriend?” he asked, making heat zing down my spine. So he had been watching us.