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The beefcake on the right belches loudly and skims one of my straps. “You got a bikini on under there?”
I shake my head and shift away from his unwelcome contact. His nails have dirt under them, which is nasty. I glance around, hoping one of my brothers will appear and tell this guy to back off. I usually keep to myself and my room when they have a lot of people over.
Instead of Maverick or River coming to my rescue, Kodiak pushes his way between the two beefcakes and slings an arm over each of their shoulders. A beer bottle dangles from his fingers and his eyes slide over me, expression full of disdain. “Who let you out of your ivory tower?”
I roll my eyes and flip him the bird.
The football players laugh, and the one on the right smirks at his friend. “I like this one.”
Kodiak’s lip twitches. “There’s a do-not-touch policy on this one, so find another set of tits to eye-fuck.” He tips his beer back, draining half of it in one long gulp, his gaze still trained on me. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth as he steps forward, into my personal space. My heart rate kicks up, and my breath gets trapped in my lungs—like I’m stuck underwater.
Kodiak’s hard glare stays locked with mine as he bends down, our noses almost brushing. His breath smells like beer and more faintly of something sweet. His fingertips glide up my arm and wrap around the back of my neck, his thumb sweeping up the side, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. He tips his head, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Still such an attention seeker, aren’t you? You should leave before you embarrass yourself.” He drops his hand and steps back.
“I hate you.” I spin around and head for the front door.
“Keep telling yourself that until it’s true,” he calls after me.
In the driveway, I run into River, who’s arriving home from practice. He nods to the backpack slung over my shoulder. “I thought you didn’t have class today.”
“I don’t. I’m meeting a friend from my costume and set design class, and then I’m probably going to meet up with Lovey and Lacey.”
He rubs the scar under his bottom lip, which almost matches mine. Except his teeth went through his bottom lip when he was playing football. Mine is from a childhood panic attack during which I bit my lip hard enough that I should have had stitches. But I’d already been so traumatized, my parents didn’t want to risk taking me to the hospital.
“You’re gonna stay there tonight?” he asks.
“Maybe.” I hadn’t planned on it, although I also hadn’t planned on dealing with Kodiak, either, so I’m leaving my options open.
“Okay, might be a good idea. Based on the noise level already, it’s gonna get rowdy here, and Lovey and Lacey’s place is chill.”
In other words, he won’t have to worry about making sure I’m okay or comfortable.
River takes my bag and unlocks the car door. Sometimes he can be ridiculously kind and thoughtful. He pulls me into a hug so tight, it’s nearly suffocating. “I’m sorry about the party. Message later so I know you’re safe, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He waits until I pull out of the driveway before he goes inside.
What the hell have I signed up for this semester? And how much of Kodiak can I tolerate before I break?
I meet Josiah at the quad. He greets me with a hug and huge smile. “How was your first week?”
“Goodish. Good. I made it through, so that’s what counts.”
His right eyebrow lifts above his black-rimmed glasses. “Uh-oh, goodish sounds more like not good.”
“It was okay.” Cue internal eye roll. No one likes a Negative Nancy. “Living with my brothers is an adjustment.”
“Ah, right. Maverick seemed all right, though?” It’s posed as a question.
I fall into step beside him. “He’s the easier of the two for sure, but he plays hockey for the school team, and my twin plays football, so it’s jock central there right now.”
Josiah makes a face. “Oh man, that sounds like the opposite of your jam.”
“Uh, yup, pretty much. The dudebros are bad enough, but the girls are the worst. It’s desperation nation over there. When I left, there had to have been about twenty girls in thong bikinis wandering around the backyard.”
“What about the shirtless jocks?” He waggles his brows.
“They’re nice to look at, as long as they don’t open their mouths and speak to me.” My cheeks flush at the memory of River’s football friends chatting up my chest before I left.
“There has to be at least a few of them who aren’t total dirtbags, though, right?”
“Probably—not that it matters. There’s zero chance I’d ever date one of those guys.”
“Who says you have to date?” He gives me a knowing smirk.
