Page 32 of Under Pressure

“Kind of sober? That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Sober enough to know what I’m talking about. That good enough?”

I arch a brow. “Drunk enough to be all up in arms. Come out with it already.”

Looking to the other end of the pool, he lifts a hand and curls a finger at the blonde sipping from the rim of a martini glass. My gut tightens when she turns a soft shade of pink and whispers something to the woman closest to her and grins, accepting an invitation that I didn’t want sent. Something in the back of my brain is tingling, a kernel of a memory, maybe. Whatever it is has me curling the fingers hidden beside my thigh.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask Kellan, muscles coiling beneath my clothes.

He doesn’t answer me. His lips part around the easy smile he’s flashing at the blonde, the same one that I’ve seen him wear on many occasions. I know exactly what he’s doing, and whether it’s the alcohol talking or something else, it’s pissing me off.

The closer the woman gets to us, the more tense I get. That tingle in my brain turns into a full-on spasm as I recognize her. It’s not rare that the same group of girls will attend these parties. Wes loves hosting these things in this ridiculous house, and I can’t say I’ve ever cared much about the guest list. We don’t invite random people into our space, which means everyone here is a friend of a friend or a member of someone’s family.

With the recent headlines I’ve been dealing with the last year, I trust that I’m not going to run into any shit when I’m with my teammates in an environment like this. It was when I’d venture out of their grasp that I’d get in trouble.

Or that was my reality up until the last four months.

There hasn’t been an article in forever now. No bad photos or rumours that the Havoc have had to clean up for me. I’ve been on my best behaviour, and I know exactly why.

The question I have now is why Kellan is trying to get me tofuck some random girl that I haven’t seen in over a year,at least. She’s not his type. He’s a picky bastard and prefers dark hair and curves, whereas I’ve always been more open. I hate that I’m even aware of what type of women he likes, but that’s what happens when you have a handful of threesomes, I guess.

The point is, I know he’s about to push her onto me, and I’m not in the mood for this shit.

If he’s trying to prove something or just straight up rile me, he’s going to find himself choking on pool water.

“Beck, you remember Flora, right?”

I wrap a fist around my anger and bury it deep as I force myself to smile at her, nodding once. “Yeah, of course. Hey.”

“Hi. It’s good to see you again. Both of you,” she murmurs, quickly reaching up to tuck a non-existent chunk of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered me or not. We figured we’d stay back just in case.”

Again, my smile remains, though it’s beginning to sag at the edges. “I try my best not to forget anyone I meet.”

“I was just telling Beck here that I’m debating setting the net up so we could play a quick game of water volleyball,” Kellan explains, smacking my shoulder. “Would you be in?”

She tips her chin in instant agreement and starts wading through the water toward me. My vision’s a bit slow to react as I force it to follow her, refusing to look below her shoulders. The memory of our singular night together is far too hazy to make out specifics, but I’m positive it would be the complete wrong move to look any further down.

My phone is still in my pocket. If I pulled it out, would Kellan throw it into the pool? Because if Quinn has finally replied to my text and I lost the chance to see it, that would send me over the edge.

“We’d be interested! I could ask Lily to be your partner, Kellan?” Flora asks, the heady excitement in her tone making my skin stretch too tightly over my bones.

It’s nothing like the raspy, sassy tone I wish I were hearing instead.

“I’m not interested in volleyball. I didn’t bring a bathing suit, unfortunately.” With a pathetic excuse of a frown, I reach behind me and start pulling myself up off the cement pad.

When I waver on my feet, a set of many fingers circles my ankle. I glance down, finding Kellan looking up at me, his eyes far too curious. With one rough shake of my head, I release my grip on my anger and let him see the full extent of it.

He releases me, and I walk away as quickly as I can without falling over. Voices mix behind me, but I let it go, deciding that I don’t care what he does now. Betrayed isn’t the right word. He didn’t do that, but he did push too far. And for what? To prove a point? Because what point is there that would need all of that?

“Wait up, Beck. Jesus, you’re going to take off in a jog pretty quick, and we both know I’m faster than you.”

I tighten my jaw. The scent of marijuana is pretty damn strong right here, making me woozy. Tipping my head back, I fix my gaze on the balcony attached to Wes’ bedroom and the puffs of grey smoke floating from it. The guy himself isn’t visible, but I know he’s there, hiding from the party he was so insistent everyone attend.

It was a shock in itself that he stayed downstairs long enough to play a game of beer pong with me earlier.

The weight of Kellan’s arm dropping onto my shoulders puts me off balance. I lurch forward, then to the side, before I catch myself and reach up to shove him off.

“Don’t do that. I’m pissed at you.”