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“Seth—” I pull my arm away. “What the hell?”
“There,” he says, smiling. “Enjoy the party, little sister. Have fun.”
I bow my head, unable to even look at Drew as I bolt through the doorway to catch up with Jenna.
What’s the worst that can happen?
Basically, that.
CHAPTER 6
DREW
Little sister?
Heidi is Seth’s little sister?
She doesn’t even look at me as she rushes inside. For the second time in two nights, a little secondhand embarrassment stabs my gut. First, that almost kiss, and now getting shouted at in front of a bunch of people?
Shit.
I almost kissed my best friend’s little sister.
It repeats in my head for the last few minutes of our shift.
I almost kissed my best friend’s little sister.
A sister I didn’t know he had, so it’s not my fault, right? It’s no one’s fault. I did nothing wrong.
When Corey and Devin arrive to relieve us of ID duty, Seth immediately bolts into the house. It’s more crowded now with dozens of people cramped into each room with red cups and smiling faces. A typical Delta Xi bash in full swing, but there’s tension in the air tonight.
I fill two red cups from the keg and head upstairs to catch up with Seth on the second floor. He stands on the balcony looking out over the main living area, his eyes scanning face after face searching for her, but she’s nowhere to be seen. It wouldn’t surprise me if she ran right out the back door and left after what Seth did.
“Hey,” I say, offering him a cup. “You all right?”
Seth glances at me and takes it, but he’s still seething a little. “Not cool, man,” he says before taking a drink.
I raise my hands, selling the lie. “The ID looked legit, Seth. I didn’t know.”
“No, I mean...” He shifts on his heels. “What the hell is she doing here?”
I look over the balcony. “It’s a party,” I say.
“I thought she was staying in Iowa,” he says.
“Iowa?” I ask. “You didn’t know she was going here?”
“We’re not close.”
“Why not? She seems cool enough. Not that I know her or have spent any length of time with her, but… just at a casual glance. First impressions and all that.”
He pauses for a moment. “Our parents got divorced when I was fourteen,” he says. “It was pretty messy. The judge made us choose who we wanted to live with. I chose Dad, she chose Mom, and it became an us versus them kind of thing.”
I nod. “That’s rough.”
“Every birthday and holiday was one big pissing contest between them and that toxicity just bled into us, you know?”
“You should talk to her about it.”
