I blow out a puff of air and cross my arms. Then uncross them. I look up at the ceiling. Chew on my thumb.
I’d hate to mess up their friendship. Oliver and Ezra have known each other for almost fifteen years. I had been planning to tell Oliver about me and Ezra, but I wasn’t honestly sure how to tell him yet. Our relationship is still new. Shaky. Fragile. I mean, I know we’re really into each other, but what if I can convince him to go back to school for second semester? What if he decides we can’t date because of that distance, or if he continues to spout nonsense about feeling inferior?
Then I remember what he said a few minutes ago: “I like that you take what you want.”
I can do that.
I charge up the stairs to the kitchen, where I find Oliver pouring tequila into shot glasses and Ezra shuffling a deck of cards.
“I don’t care what you say,” I snap at my brother. “I want Ezra, and nobody’s going to stop me from dating him. Not you. Not Dad. Not Svetlana, the Russian gymnast.”
“Rawr,” Oliver says.
My little speech lights up Ezra’s eyes.
“Bottoms up, man,” Oliver says, pushing one of the shots in front of Ezra. They sprinkle salt onto their wrists, toast their glasses, throw back their liquor, grimace, then lick their wrists. Next, Ezra deals Oliver a card. Are they playing blackjack?
“Seriously?” I say. “Were you just going to leave me down there all night while you get trashed and gamble?”
They both have the decency to look sheepish. Ezra sweeps the cards back into a neat pile.
Oliver holds an arm out to me. I slide up against him and accept his hug. “I wish you’d given me a heads-up that you’re with Ez now. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was trying to figure out how. I didn’t want to mess up your friendship, but I’m not giving up Ezra either.”
“It sucks to know you didn’t feel comfortable telling me.”
I nod. “I’m sorry. I love you.”
My brother gives me a small smile. “Love you too.”
“So you’re okay with us dating?”
Oliver looks from me to Ezra. “I trust him with my life. Why wouldn’t I trust him with my sister’s?”
Aww. Ezra nods once at my brother, and Oliver nods back. Then they glance away, because they are guys, and guys seemingly can’t be seen showing affection toward one another.
“What are you doing home?” I ask my brother.
“Fall break.”
“I thought you were going to Alana’s house in Miami,” I say, and Ezra nods. He must’ve been under the same impression.
“Eh, Alana and I broke things off yesterday. I got cold feet about spending five days alone with her and her parents, and that got us talking about how we’d both rather be single for now. So I decided to come home. I needed to see how you’re doing…but I guess I know, since I caught you and Ez practically bumping uglies.”
“Ugh!” I shout.
Ezra makes a face. “Dude, never say ‘bumping uglies’ again.”
“If you don’t want me to say it, you shouldn’t have been trying to do that with my sister.” Oliver pours himself another tequila shot. He tosses it back, then grimaces.
“Hey, where’s mine?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” Oliver says.
I snake an arm around Ezra’s waist. “Where’s mine?”
With a smile, he surrenders his shot glass to me, and I reward him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Gross. Just because I’ve given Ez permission to date you doesn’t mean I want to see any PDA.”
I shoot my brother a withering look. “Permission?”
Oliver ignores me and turns to Ezra. “Do you want to head up to Nashville? There’s a new nightclub I want to check out. It’s called Tunnel Vision.”
My brother absolutely loves clubbing. I’m surprised he didn’t head to Miami on his own so he could hit up the night scene. Honestly, I’m shocked he hasn’t tried to get a role in one of those Step Up movies.
Ezra has always been more of the listening-to-live-music type, but the boy can dance. Like, seriously dance. I’ve never actually fast-danced with him, but I remember watching him at St. Andrew’s dances, and of course, I’ve seen my brother’s videos from their trips to Mexico and Europe. I nearly groan at the thought of Ezra behind me, swaying his hips against mine. God, I’m a complete perv. But at least I own it.
“I’m up for dancing if you are,” I say to Ezra. “I can use Jenna’s old license to try to get in, but it might be risky.”
He takes my hand, caressing my fingers. “Not tonight. I’d rather just hang out here.”
With a roll of his eyes, Oliver pours Ezra another shot. I steal it and drink before either can protest. It tastes horrible. I can barely swallow it. I cough hard and let out a burst of laughter once I’ve recovered. Then I burp accidentally.
“She’s all yours, bud,” Oliver says to Ezra.
“Hey!” I slap my brother’s hand.
My phone buzzes with a new text from Chloe.
What r u doing?
Hanging out w Ezra and my brother. Want to come over?
Can Alyson come too?
By the time they arrive, Ezra and Oliver are tipsy, and we’re having our own dance party in the formal living room. When Marina shows Chloe and Alyson in, Oliver has unplugged a decorative lamp and is singing into it, pretending it’s a microphone.
I say, “If Mom saw this, she’d have a coronary.”
“I’m going to have a coronary,” Marina says, and Oliver placates her by setting down the lamp and making her dance with him.
“Um, is this typical at your house?” Alyson shouts over the music, watching my brother dance with our housekeeper.
“The Oliver Dance Party happens every night,” Ezra says.
Once my brother has stopped doing the tango with Marina, I turn the music down and introduce everyone. Oliver checks out Chloe and vice versa.
We turn the music back up, and I dance with Ezra, which makes Oliver cover his eyes and whine. You’d never know my brother is about to turn twenty, given how childish he’s acting. The good news is that he and my new soccer friends seem to hit it off, and they distract him from our dancing. Ezra draws me up against his chest and grips my waist, moving his hips in time with mine. I get lost in his green eyes. We dance for so long, I lose track of how many songs have played.
“Do you have work in the morning?” I whisper in his ear.
“Day off. You?”
“Soccer game at noon.”
“Nice, you can sleep in a little.”
Mom and Dad are in Washington and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, so I take a deep breath and do something I’ve never done before. Something my parents would never allow.
“Want to stay over?”
He raises his eyebrows and glances at my brother, who’s now passed out on the floor. He smacks his lips, then snores. Classy.
“Yeah,” Ezra says with a thick voice. “But we probably shouldn’t fool around, since Oll is here.”