I certainly didn’t regret teaching Marvin a lesson.
My eyes lift from my knuckles when Jorgie comes frolicking across the room to sit on Hawke’s lap. When her lips seal over his mouth, I return my eyes to Ava. For the past two hours, Ava has been downing liquor like it’s soda, batting her eyelashes, and openly flirting with every one of my single ex-frat brothers. As if that isn’t bad enough, for the past thirty minutes, she’s been dancing with Rhys Motherfucking Tagget. Yes, that is his real middle name. Well, it’s what I’ve christened him anyway.
“You don’t think you should go and say something to Ava?” I suggest, nudging Jorgie with my elbow.
Jorgie stops sucking face with Hawke and turns her furious eyes to me. “And what exactly should I say? Hey Ava, you’re nearly twenty-five years old, you don’t have to work in the morning, and you look smoking hot in that sexy little number, but can you please go home because my brother is about to burst a vein in his temple over you dancing with another guy?!”
The tick hammering my jaw the past two hours gains a new spasm. “If that will stop her from making a fool of herself, yeah, say that.”
Jorgie scoffs. “I'm not going to kick her in the shins when she is finally having a little bit of fun. Besides, she could do far worse than snag a man like Rhys Tagget.”
“Snag a man? She needs you to save her from his clutches not throw her towards him. She deserves better than him!”
Jorgie’s brow cocks and a puff of air whizzes out of her amused lips. “Keep lying to yourself, Hugo. Cause you know as well as I do, Rhys is one of the rare good guys in this town: a gifted surgeon with an extremely large heart.”
“Good guy or not, he is looking at Ava like she is a dessert menu,” I yell as the heaviness plaguing my chest the past week amplifies.
“She is safe with Rhys. He won’t do anything to her that Ava doesn’t want him to do.”
Her reassuring words don’t offer me any comfort. If anything, they agitate me more. “Maybe Ava doesn’t want him to touch her,” I interject, my jealousy building even more quickly than my temper.
Jorgie scoffs. “Get your head out of the clouds, Hugo. Every girl in this town wants a slice of the Rhys Tagget pie. Ava included.”
Our heated argument ends when a deep growl rumbles from Hawke’s stern, shut mouth. Jorgie’s cheeks go a shade of pink as her eyes drift back to Hawke. She looks like a kid who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Hawke’s jaw muscle is tense, and he glares at Rhys with the same “I want to rip your head off and stick it up your ass” look I’ve been giving him the past thirty minutes.
“Every girl but me, baby,” Jorgie says, her tone super high and girly as she tries to pacify Hawke’s furious wrath. “I’ll never want anyone but you.” She cups his cheeks in her hands. “I’m all yours.”
Hawke’s gaze softens when he turns his eyes back to Jorgie’s. I supress a gag when he says, “You better come and show me then,” not attempting to hide the sexual undertone in his voice.
My wish for alcohol has never been more paramount than when I see a spark of lust ignite in my baby sister’s eyes. With a smile, Jorgie stands from Hawke’s lap and saunters to the stairwell.
Hawke gestures to Jorgie that he will be there in a minute before he lowers his eyes to me. “If you don’t like what Ava is doing, stop her from doing it.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I reply, my words coming out in quick succession as anger takes control of my vocal cords. “Drag her out of here kicking and screaming?”
Hawke smiles. “It might be the first, but it certainly won’t be the last,” he says before stalking to the stairwell.
When Jorgie notices him prowling towards her like a panther on the hunt, she squeals before darting up the stairs. Hawke is on her heels before she hits the second step. My gaze turns down to the plastic cup of Coca-Cola in my hand as my mind works to unjumble the riddle issued in Hawke’s statement. I know I’ve heard it before, but I can’t recall where.
Before my brain has the chance to contemplate what Hawke meant, Ava’s husky laugh sounds through my ears. Lifting my eyes, I am met with her being dipped by Rhys. Her ponytail is loose and hanging halfway down her head, her skin is flushed and covered with the slickness of sweat, and her eyes are bloodshot and glassy from the copious amount of liquor she has drank. But she can still stop traffic. And from the gleam in Rhys’ eyes, he fucking knows it.
The instant Rhys flips Ava up and her exquisite eyes lock with mine, the meaning behind Hawke’s statement crashes into me hard and fast. It wasn’t something I heard before. It was something I said. To him. It was the very first time he dragged Jorgie out of a sorority party kicking and wailing over his shoulder.
They weren’t even a couple at that stage, but seeing him have enough gall to go up against a girl as stubborn as Jorgie, I realized in an instant Jorgie had met her match. They’ve been inseparable since that night. I don’t know if Hawke is saying he thinks the same about Ava and me, but I’m no longer willing to stand by and watch Ava make a headless mistake all because I pissed her off.
The vein in Ava’s neck thrums when I push off my chair and stride towards her. Her pupils dilate more with every stride I take. Without a word seeping from my lips, I clasp her wrist, yank her away from Rhys, and throw her over my shoulder.
The pounding of her fists on my back match the whacking of my heart as I make my way to my truck. Her wailing halts at the exact moment the noise of a garbage compactor and a washing machine going to battle sounds from her stomach. One of her hands shoots up to cover her mouth while the other secures a rigid grip on my jeans.
“I’m going to be sick,” she squeaks out.
Her warning comes too late.
My teeth crunch together when the first splash of vomit spills through her fingers and is absorbed by my shirt. My shoulders stiffen and a low, dangerous growl ripples from my lips. I move to the rose bushes at the front of Mrs. Mable’s house and place Ava onto her feet.
As she expels the bottle of tequila she drunk into the bushes, I comb my fingers through her sweat-drenched hair, securing it into a braid. I swear, I’ve never seen someone spew so much in my life. The bottle of tequila was a fifth in size, but she’s puked more than double that.
Once her stomach is void of any type of liquid, I scoop her into his arms and continue walking to my truck parked half a block down. Carefully, I place Ava into the passenger seat and secure her belt before bolting around to the driver’s side.
