She swivels on her black chunky platform boots, scanning for potential sexy boys. There’s no shortage in here, but there’s no one I’m interested in. Even the sexiest man isn’t a patch on just one of the Townsend triplets, let alone all three. “What about him?”
Across the dancefloor, Elias is leaning over to speak to the head cheerleader. His eyes fix on her ample cleavage. So much so that he almost topples over and lands headfirst between her breasts. “Yeah. He looks like a real catch,” I say.
“Yeah. Might be hard to snog someone whose eyeballs are caught between someone else’s tits.”
I snort, glad that she noticed even in her drunken state.
“What about him?” This time she points to a skinny dude who’s leaning against the bar, nursing what looks like a soft drink. I guess he’s an art student because he has some patches of paint on his arm.
“Can we just dance?” I ask. “Or, if you want, I can dare you to snog Mr. Eyeballs Elias.”
Gabriella bends over at the waist, cackling loudly. “That is the best nickname ever,” she squeals.
“If Celine wasn’t dating Eddie right now, she’d definitely go for the guy at the bar.”
“True.” Gabriella nods in agreement and carries on looking.
“Oh,” she says, her eyes widening.
“What?” I turn to follow the direction of Gabriella’s gaze, finding Colby, Sebastian, and Micky standing by the entrance. I duck immediately, trying to hide behind a tall man who’s gyrating with his girlfriend behind me.
“Why are you hiding from them?” she asks.
“No reason,” I say. I still haven’t confided in Gabriella about what happened, and the gossip must not have reached her yet. “Well, no reason other than they’re annoying as shit.”
The half-lie leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Gabriella narrows her blue eyes and twists her mouth into a one-sided smile. “You know that I’m aware you lust after those gorgeous hunks of men,” she says.
I open my mouth to deny it, but she claps one of her hands over my mouth.
“Don’t do that, sister. Don’t lie to your friend.”
My shoulders drop, shame washing over me. “I can see their unbelievable manliness and ‘chiseledness’–is that even a word?–but still find them annoying as shit.”
“You can,” Celine agrees. “But you know that usually means you want to have their babies, but you’re hiding behind your self-constructed fear-elevated barriers.”
“I think you need to drop your psych class,” I say, dancing with one eye on my stepbrothers as they make their way to the bar. Their manliness is out in full force tonight. Tight shirts hug their broad backs and bulging biceps, and their jeans are snug around their asses and ridiculously muscular thighs. They move in such a similar way, their legs in synch as they walk.
“I see you watching them,” Celine says.
“Only so I know where they are. I don’t want to bump into them. They’re just so dull. Always talking about football.”
“I heard they’ve been volunteering to teach football to kids in a deprived neighborhood across town.” Gabriella wiggles her eyebrows, pleased that she’s found a tidbit of information that goes in the triplet’s favor.
“They are?”
She nods. “It’s a charity thing organized by their coach. It was on the student website.”
“Mmm…”
Gabriella grabs my hands, spinning me under her arm in a ridiculous formal dance move. “Mmm is right. Not such bad guys, after all, are they?”
“Volunteering doesn’t make a difference,” I lie. “They’re probably just doing it to make themselves feel less like douchebags.
“I don’t know. Colby’s been helping Kain with his classes. You know how much he struggles because of his ADHD.”
“Why’s he helping Kain?” I ask.
“Because he loaned Kain some notes when he saw him struggling, and then Kain said how much it helped him, and Colby offered to tutor him for a couple of hours a week.”
I glance across the dancefloor at Colby, who now has a bottle of beer in his hand and is waiting for Seb to finish paying. He’s always seemed so self-centered to me. He is more interested in getting his way and making other people compliment him. Out of all of them, the only one I would have thought would have been selfless in any way is Micky. A couple of years ago, he befriended a stray cat, and now it lives in his room. It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, but he loves it.
I twist away, not liking where Gabriella’s stories are taking my train of thought, because if Colby, Seb, and Micky aren’t the assholes I’ve convinced myself they are, then I have way less reason to suppress all my pent-up sexual feelings about them.
My conversation with Dornan echoes through my mind. Which one are you crushing on? He asked me. What I didn’t tell him is that I can’t separate them in my mind. When we were in the closet, for those seven minutes, they were like one person. They were so focused on my pleasure that the three men became a single six-handed entity.