Between two fingers, I held the glass neck of my choice of poison for the night irresponsibly memorized by the sight in front of me. Hooked on the messages my spine received focused on the truth of it.

“Shit.”

I glanced over at Chance, one of my former roommates, who muttered the curse staring at his girl, Brie. She had her hands in the air moving to the beat with her friend, Shelly in front of her equally engaged in a snake charmers dance. The two have caught the attention of every guy in the room, including Sawyer who had worked his way behind Shelly. I didn’t want to notice him moving like he fucks, grinding behind her ass like she’s everything he wanted and more.

The 1952 Macallan glided over my tongue like honey coating my throat like how subconsciously he did. I was taken back to a time when he was behind me in a single moment hooked in my brain hopelessly on a loop I can’t let go.

The rare scotch that cost upwards of five figures didn’t fill the empty spaces in me. By the time, I brought the bottle down, Shelly face was mottled with anger as Sawyer glibly walked in our direction.

“I wouldn’t mind being in that sandwich,” he said, eyeing Chance.

“Don’t you fucking think about it!” Chance declared with menace written in the tightness of his brows.

Then his gaze slid my way. That was when it hit him what he said. Those times when we been the ends with some girl between us were long over.

Time to go. I turned away from that stare I knew better than my own. His hand landed on my arm to stop me. It only took one death glare over my shoulder for his hold on me to fall away. I hated the shiver that raised the hairs on my arm.

I headed the only place that offered solitude, the backyard. My new dwelling upstairs belonged to the two of us. I wouldn’t allow him to trap me there to talk. I breathe in the wood smoke coming from the fire pit and head out past the milling people to find a spot to claim and run into the girl from earlier today.

Her back was too me, but her hair voluminous with curls in different shades of blonde was distinctive. Standing next to her is a guy that I’ve caught looking at me several times.

His hand was on her back rubbing circles. Whatever he was saying, her head bobbed before they turned as one. My body instantly went on high alert.

She looked nothing like the innocent girl I’d helped early. Her top dipped dangerously low and the shirt she wore wouldn’t hide a thing if she bent forward. The smile he gave me was very different from the one he’d aimed at her seconds ago. His eyes dropped to where my dick decided to make a stand.

Her eyes on the other hand softened. “You,” she said sloppily. “Thank you.”

She stumbled forward as if she planned to hug me. I stiffened prepared for the shock of pins and needles to spike my nerve endings with pain. The guy caught her with a smirk.

“Let me help you with that.”

As his eyes found my dick again, I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the girl or how hard I’d gotten.

Confusion filled me. I wasn’t sure how to process what was going on. The only person to have created desire was lost to me. One look between them and I couldn’t look away. So many questions I had as to what I wanted in life.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said. She wiped a hand over her mouth. “I just wanted to thank you for earlier. I’m sorry.”

Then she looped off in a half run, half sway.

The guys just stood there.

“Excuse me,” I said and turned back.

I wasn’t ready. Even subconsciously, he was there and I wasn’t yet my own person. When would the fucking feelings fade? I drifted around the side of the house and found a spot of wall to rest my back.

The bottom of bottle found the sky as I tipped it back to swallow my pain. I longed for the burn of cheap alcohol so I could feel something other the shards of glass that made up my heart. Instead the smooth scotch had a faint citrus taste.

A giggle caught my attention. Hidden by shadows, the couple coming through he back gate headed toward the front of the house hadn’t spotted me.

“You think I’m pretty,” the girl said.

“Of course.”

I heard the lie in his voice. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she was pretty, more that I could tell he would have said whatever to fuck her.

As they neared, I would have appreciated that they hadn’t noticed me until I saw who it was.

It was her and she was barely walking on her own. The practically held her up. When he spotted me, his smirk grew.

I knew him. He had a rep that made slim appealing. I wasn’t sure what made me do it, but I stood straighter and I stepped to intercept their path.

“Ash,” Kirk said.

I shook my head and then glanced down at her.

His brow shot up. “Yours?”

As a member of the same frat, I could claim one girl as mine and she would be off limits even if she didn’t know I’d marked her. In three years, I’d never claimed anyone. Sawyer had.

“You,” the girl said when she saw me again.

It was the purines in her smile that determined my fate. I nodded. It wasn’t like there was ever going to be a girl for me. What did it matter if I claimed her. Maybe rumors about me would stop.

His hands jerked away, leaving her to sway on her feet.

“Sorry,” he muttered and left her and me alone.

“Wait,” she called after him realizing he was leaving.

“Sorry, love.” He winked and disappeared around the side of the house.

“Wow that was fast and he hasn’t even seen Celeste yet.”

I frowned not sure what she was slurring about.

Then her kaleidoscope eyes narrowed on me at the same time her lips curled into amused lines.

“Do you know you have a beauty mark like Marilyn Monroe?”

Before I could stop her, her fingertip landed and scorched on one of my many imperfections.

“It’s like it was stolen from here.”

That same finger marked the divot in my chin.

“How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people?”

I flatten my lips hearing the lie from her lips. I was as far from beautiful as the aftermath of a wildfire on a destructive path.

Just as I lifted my hands not sure if I was willing to grab her hand. It was bad enough the tip of her finger on my skin to have my entire hand wrapped around her wrist. But then her arms were out to balance her from falling backward.

“Willow.”

I glanced up to find a girl jogging to catch her friend.

“Celeste,” Willow said with a wide grin.

I turned away assuming she was safe now.

“Where did he go?” I heard her ask.

But I was left wondering why the burn of her touch was nothing like the sting of a hundred hornets I usually felt when someone skin brushed against mine. Like mothers.