The small party is in full bloom with Remi being a clown as always. He’s bouncing back and forth with a drink in hand as he verbally spars with our two childhood friends, Ava, who’s about Glyn’s age, and Cecily, who’s a year older.
My cousin Creigh is also here, but he seems more preoccupied with his phone. Annika, the girls' new roommate and Jeremy’s younger sister, tries to strike up a conversation with him, but he doesn’t dignify her with a response.
He’s listening, though, because he looks up whenever she stops talking.
I’m still a bit peeved about Annika recently being added to the group. She’s nice, but the fact remains that she represents the Heathens, and there’s often security detail outside every place we go.
I’d really prefer it if the Heathens were no longer shoved down my throat.
One small problem, though. I’ve sort of become close with Mia Sokolov. Or she could be just using me to get closer to Lan like all girls aside from Clara do.
I like her company and she games like a boss, so I guess we’ll keep seeing each other for as long as she wants. At my place. There’s no way in hell I’m stepping foot in the Heathens' mansion again.
Not after the last time I was there.
Don’t think about it.
Stop thinking about it.
It’s easy to focus on the people around me, but it’s still a struggle to be completely present. So I throw down my third drink, mirroring Glyn, who’s sitting opposite me and who’s also hell-bent on drinking herself into a coma.
She just suggested playing never have I ever in a very slurry voice. Maybe I should call it a night and take her back to the flat she shares with the girls.
Only, I really need to drink as well. A few more and then we’ll leave.
Remi holds an imaginary mic. “I’ll go first.”
Cecily flips her silver hair back and points an accusatory finger at him. “You always go first.”
“That’s right.” Ava puffs out her chest. “Glyn wanted this, so let her play first.”
“Play what?”
I nearly spit out my mouthful of alcohol. It’s not because of Killian, my sister’s boyfriend, who just said that last sentence.
Not even close.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and while I can’t see the entirety of him, I can make out Nikolai’s frame standing close to Killian. His hair is loose, falling thick and smooth to his shoulders.
This time, he’s wearing a black tee and jeans that hang low on his hips. Although it’s not exactly summer, he has no jacket. Full sleeves of tattoos extend from beneath his shirt to the backs of his hands.
I can’t stop looking at him.
And the more I do, the faster my throat fills with that different nausea. The one that’s overwhelming but doesn’t make me want to hit my head against the wall.
It’s pushing me to nefarious ends.
Down unknown roads.
Stop looking.
Stop looking.
I force myself to take a sip of my drink and focus on my sister, who glances up at Killian. “What are you doing here?”
He pushes his cousin in front of him. “Nikolai was bored, so I took him out for a stroll.”
“Eat shit, motherfucker. I’m not a dog. Also, he was the one who was so bored that he started vandalizing shit,” Nikolai says, then speaks to Glyn, “I was dragged out against my will because he refuses to admit he misses you.”
“Semantics,” Killian says. “Can we join you?”
All the rowdiness from earlier comes to a halt, and I can’t help hearing the doomsday sound in my brain.
Tick.
He looks murderous.
Tick.
He’s not looking at me.
Tick.
He is not looking at me.
The upgraded nausea dies down and I’m hit with the familiar feeling of fucked-up Brandon in epic proportions.
Black ink swells beneath my feet and I feel my stomach churning.
“Yeah, sure!” Ava replies. “The more the merrier.”
Killian brings a chair over and sits beside my sister, and Nikolai flops down beside him.
Across from me.
Only a table separates us, but he still hasn’t looked at me since he got here. Not even once.
Killian and Glyn whisper to each other, and I know I should be looking out for my sister, but I learned that it doesn’t matter what we think. She probably loves Killian.
Lan obviously doesn’t agree, and it’s because he kidnapped Killian and tortured him that I ended up in the Heathens’ mansion.
It’s all because of him.
Class act. Blame Lan. It’s working bloody wonders like he said.
Killian finally stops trying to eye-fuck my sister and asks, “So what are we playing?”
“Never have I ever,” I say, not recognizing my voice. “And Glyn will start.”
She raises a shot. “Never have I ever done something illegal.”
Nikolai shrugs and knocks down a shot. My fingers tighten around my glass. Of course he’s done something illegal. His existence itself should be illegal.
He’s so fucking infuriating.
Why did he have to show up in my space again?
Creighton downs a shot, seeming to have finished his obsession with his phone.
“What did you do…” Annika asks, then swallows and stares at Nikolai. “Nikolai?”
He looks at her and winks. “You know the drill.”
I narrow my eyes as I stare between them. Are they a thing? Or were they?
Good grief. Isn’t she supposed to be his best friend’s sister and barely legal?
But then again, if all the posts he gets tagged in are of any indication, then he’s often caught with both men and women hanging off his arm. And it’s been going on for years.
Not that I went there on purpose…
My thoughts trail off when Ava takes a shot, drawing everyone’s attention.
“What illegal things have you done?” Cecy asks.
“Sorry, bitches, there’s no rule that says I have to explain. Should’ve set that beforehand.”
Remi brings his shot up, then takes it in one go with an “Ahh. Drugs, those nasty little shits.”
“Why aren’t you drinking?” Glyn asks Killian.
“Because I’m not admitting to doing anything illegal. My father and grandfather are lawyers, thank you very much.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Do you have proof that I committed illegal actions?”
“Ugh, whatever.”
He whispers something in her ear and she goes a bright shade of red. This is a bit uncomfortable to watch, but not as uncomfortable as the presence of the guy I’m trying to pretend isn’t sitting next to Killian.
Who’s still not looking at me.
“Your turn,” she tells her boyfriend.
He pauses, but only for a beat. “Never have I ever been in love.”
Ava takes a shot and I watch her with pity, my fingers trailing over my glass. My poor friend has had the worst love story to ever exist. Not that I believe in that emotion.
After all, love is just an illusion made up by empty people who crave companionship.
In reality, it doesn’t exist.
My skin prickles and the feeling of being watched stabs me in the chest.
I lift my head, and for the first time in weeks, my eyes lock with the violent twat who has no business looking at me with…a challenge.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
The way I saw it, you got hard when you had your eyes on me. Not her.