“She said no,” Griffin says. “Get the fuck out.”
The man looks at Griffin, does the math, and realizes he’s about to lose. Then he’s gone.
Griffin turns to me, looks at the cup in my hand, then at my face.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks.
And just like that, the fear transforms into a white-hot burst of fury. Because it’s him. Because it’s always him, appearing exactly when I don’t want to be seen.
“What the hell areyoudoing?” I snap back.
Griffin has been in my life for thirteen years. He came home with Noah when he was eleven, a kid with dead parents and a grandmother who loved him with more pragmatism than hugs. He stayed for a sleepover and just never left. He’s the second son. He’s the brother Noah chose.
But he has thisself-appointed protectorsetting that he only uses on me. He’ll be perfectly normal with Madison or Rowan, then he’ll look at me, catch a micro-expression, and say“Piper”in that tone. The “I know what you’re thinking” tone. I hate that tone.
He plucks the drink from my hand. “You’re drunk.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Noah’s worried.”
“Then why isn’t he here?”
Griffin sighs. “Because he’s home taking care of your mother.”
The guilt hits harder than the vodka. I hate that he’s right. I hate that I ran away from a suffocating house only to end up here, still unable to breathe, with Griffin acting as my conscience.
“So you’ve got me,” he says. “Congratulations.”
“Go home, Griffin.” I stand up and find my legs are surprisingly cooperative. I take two steps before his hand is on my arm.
“Piper.”
Ugh, there’s that tone.
“I’m eighteen. I’m allowed to be at a party. I’m not a child.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
My eyes sting.
“I’m not being cruel,” he says, his voice softening. “But you’re going home.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “No.”
“So help me God, Piper, if you don’t start walking, I am carrying you out of here in front of everyone.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He looks exactly like a man who has already decided how this ends. “Try me.”
“Griffin, I swear to—”
He doesn’t wait. He crouches, hooks an arm behind my knees, and flings me over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” I yell at his lower back.
“No.”
