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“Have you seen Chris Merrick?” she said quickly. “Or his brothers?”
“I forgot you were into that.” Drew smiled wolfishly, then glanced at Hunter. “Well, send her back here when you all are done.”
High fives all around.
“Hey.” Hunter took a step forward. “Lay off.”
“Hunter.” A gust of wind caught her hair and kissed her neck, making her shiver. “Forget him. He’s not worth it.”
She turned on her heel and started toward the house, not even waiting to see if he’d follow. She didn’t want to see them fight; she didn’t want to hear any more comments. She’d rather face Tyler than Drew.
But she felt Hunter behind her, and her shoulders tightened. It was one thing to shrug off some girl’s bitchy comments—entirely another to hear a guy’s trash talk.
Especially when Drew called after them, “Wear a rubber, dude.”
She was practically running when she made it to the side door.
“Becca,” said Hunter. “Becca. Wait.”
She stopped in front of the door and didn’t turn. Something cold thrust under her hand.
Casper’s nose. He was licking her fingers.
She couldn’t resist a dog. She half turned and rubbed him behind the ears. Hunter’s gaze felt like a lead weight on her back, but she couldn’t look at him yet.
“Fuck ’em, right?” she said flatly. She buried her fingers in Casper’s fur.
“The hell with that,” Hunter said, heat in his voice. “I wanted to punch him in the face.”
She glanced up, then. His jaw was set, and a bit of color heated his cheeks.
“Thanks,” she said. He was still staring at the court, as if considering going back to lay into Drew.
She held out her wrist. “Here. You want the calming one back?”
He faltered for a second. Then his eyes warmed as he smiled back at her. “You hold on to it.”
Behind him, one of the basketball guys stepped to the edge of the court, staring out at the patio. She recognized him after a moment—Drew’s older brother. “Tyler! Hey, man. Come play.”
Becca felt the blood drain from her face.
Hunter reached around her and turned the knob. “Come on. We’ll find Quinn and go catch a movie or something.”
She sucked in a breath to protest. “But we have to—”
He rolled his eyes and cut her off. “All right, all right, you get Quinn. I’ll take a walk through and ‘warn’ Chris if I see him.” He sounded as though he were volunteering to change the litter box. “Meet me at the car.”
Quinn was making out with the Latino guy in the corner of the living room. They weren’t being subtle about it, either—his hand was up her shirt.
Becca jerked her eyes away. What the hell was she supposed to do with that?
Then again, they were in the middle of the living room. Not like she couldn’t walk right up to them. Becca edged closer. Hopefully, Quinn would feel the heat radiating from her cheeks and look up.
No such luck.
Once she was close enough to yell over the music, Becca said, “Hey. Quinn. I think we need to leave.”
Quinn didn’t even break the liplock. She just reached into her pocket, pulled out Becca’s keys, and held them out.
