“Easton, please.”
“You beg like that when you’re with Reed?” I wink at her. Or try to, at least. “That must be why you carry his balls in your purse.”
Her worried face turns ice cold. “You’re drunk,” she repeats. “Go home.”
Another set of hands joins Ella’s. These are big and strong and almost manage to get Zeke out of my grip.
Bran’s face swims into view. “Hey, dude. We’re going to play Frisbee football and could use another body.”
“It’s too dark,” I grumble.
“Nah, Bran stuck some LED lights on it,” Pash says at my side. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, I let go of Zeke. Lindsey collapses on his back, which doesn’t look comfortable at all. I start to say something, but Bran and Pash drag me away. Last thing I see is Ella’s stormy face.
I guess I hurt her feelings again. I’ll have to apologize in the morning. She’s so sensitive.
Someone tosses a lighted disc in the air.
“Got a joint?” I ask.
“Let’s just play,” Bran says with a sigh. “We don’t need anyone smoking pot tonight.”
I turn on Bran. “Are you monitoring my recreational habits now?”
“Just trying to keep the captain of our defense healthy and suspension free.”
The disc comes hurtling in our direction. Bran leaps up and catches it before it hits me between the eyes. “Maybe Frisbee is the wrong plan tonight,” he says wryly.
Pash nods. “Maybe we should chill at my house? We could watch a movie.”
“Movie? The last thing I want to do is a movie.” I slap one fist against my palm. “How about we fight?”
“There will be no fighting at my party!” Felicity’s shrill voice says.
I pivot to see her standing a few feet away. Her eyes are spitting fire. I wonder why she’s so mad. Then I remember. She wanted to break up with me here where everyone could see.
Well, I’m happy to oblige.
“Felicity. There you are.” I walk over and wrap an arm around her shoulder. “My pretend girlfriend. Hey everyone,” I call out. “We’ve got something to share with you. Felicity has an announcement. She’s going to break off our fake relationship.”
There’s a hushed silence, broken by a few female titters.
I back off and spread my arms wide. “I’m here. Have at it. Whatever you want to say to break it off, say it. Make it look good.”
“Easton, let’s go home.” Ella shoves her way to the front of the crowd.
“No can do, baby sis. I promised my pretend girlfriend she can humiliate me in front of all our friends.” I wave at Felicity again. “Stage is all yours.”
Her mouth’s screwed up into a tiny circle of disapproval, as if someone stitched around the edges and then pulled the threads tight.
“You’re an evil, cruel bastard, Easton Royal,” she hisses.
“That’s all you got? This from one of the bitchiest girls at Astor Park Prep? Come on. Don’t let me down,” I gesture with both hands to bring it, but it’s not her that delivers the blow.
“Sorry about this, but I think you’ll thank me in the morning.” Bran leans back and then lets his fist fly. It’s the last thing I see.
* * *
I wake up to blinding light and a marching band traipsing around in my head. An agonized groan slides out, which only causes the marching band to play louder. The pounding drumbeat throbs in my temples and pulsates in my gut, until the waves of nausea it produces has me lurching out of bed and racing to my private bath.
I puke until there’s nothing left to puke, and I kneel there dry-heaving for a few minutes. Eventually I find the strength to stand up. I brush my teeth and chug two glasses of water. I shower. I shave. By the time I step back into the bedroom and put on a pair of sweatpants, I feel halfway normal.
Hangovers blow. Mine aren’t usually this bad, though. I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling so shitty after a night of boozing. Granted, I did drink quite a lot last night. Enough to act like a total ass, piss off Felicity, and take a fist in the face courtesy of Bran Mathis.
“How much did you have to drink last night?” My frowning father appears in the open doorway of my bedroom. “You’re never getting back in that cockpit if you don’t straighten up.”
“Who says I had anything to drink?” I challenge.
“It’s eight in the morning and you just spent the past ten minutes retching loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. So I repeat—how much did you have to drink?”
He’s using that commanding boardroom voice that scares the pants off of his business associates. But I’m not one of his associates—I’m his kid, which means I know firsthand that Callum Royal is a total pussy outside the office. He’s let me and my brothers run wild for years, even before Mom died.
“Maybe I’m sick with the stomach flu—did you ever think of that, Dad?” I shoot him a defiant look. “I love how you immediately think the worst of me.” Muttering under my breath, I stalk over to my walk-in closet and yank open the double doors.
Across the room, Dad’s face takes on a stricken expression. “I’m sorry, son. Are you ill?”
“Nah.” I glance over with a grin. “Hungover.”
“Easton.” He runs a frazzled hand through his hair. It’s the same dark brown as mine and my older brothers’. The twins’ hair is a few shades lighter. “Of all my kids, you’re the one who’s going to give me gray hair, you know that, right?”
“Obvs. Gid’s too much of a prude. So’s Reed.” I cock my head thoughtfully. “Actually, the twins might be worse than I am. You know they’re dating the same girl—”
“I can’t hear you!” Dad grumbles, covering his ears as he quickly backs out of my bedroom.
I snort to myself, because, damn, my dad’s gotten kinda cool ever since Ella moved in with us. Before that, he never made time to check in on us or lecture us about our crazy behavior.
Speaking of Ella, she strides into my room less than a minute after Dad departs it. Her blonde hair is up in a high ponytail and she’s wearing yoga pants and a State football jersey with Reed’s number on the front.
Oh crap. I forgot we’re flying out to Reed’s away game today. His team’s playing Louisiana State.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Ella’s ponytail swings rapidly as she advances on me.
“That question’s too vague, baby sis. There’s tons of shit wrong with me.”
“You acted like a jackass last night,” she accuses.
“So you mean I acted the way I always do?”
Dismay fills her blue eyes. “No, that’s not how you act, at least not toward me.”
I scan my brain trying to remember what I’d done or said to Ella yesterday. When I got to Felicity’s, Ella and Val had been dancing. I’d gotten into it with that jackass Zeke, and Ella had interfered. And I…oh right. I made some juvenile comment about how she has Reed whipped, and mocked her about whether she begged my brother when they were in bed together.
I swallow a sigh. Damn. I really am an asshole.
“Why do you do this stuff?” she asks.