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What time is it?
I looked around for my phone, but then I realized I’d left it in my bag. I pulled my legs off the couch only to hear a thud hit from inside the house. It sounded like something literally hit a wall.
“Dorian, bro, calm down.”
What the fuck?
Wide awake now, I got feet to the floor. That sounded like Ares’s voice.
“This was your plan the whole fucking time?” Another thud, something physical colliding with something else. “Alcohol and shit? You fucking sleep with her?”
“Nah, man. It’s not like that.”
This time, there was no thud. There was no crash.
This time, it was a smack like flesh hit flesh, and I got up, stumbling a little. I was disoriented. I’d fallen asleep on the damn couch, and I’d also had shots last night. I didn’t feel hungover or anything, but I definitely had a strong headache.
I padded my way through the house, pausing when I made it to the foyer.
My lips parted where I stood.
Down the hall, Dorian Prinze had Ares against the front door. He had his fist raised, his hair tousled. His shoulders roved under a thin T-shirt, and a crush of red tint crept from the neckline of his shirt all the way up to his chiseled cheekbones. He looked pissed, and his fist raised in his friend’s direction only made the fact more obvious.
Dorian’s nostrils flared. “What the fuck, Ares?”
“Come on, D.” Ares’s voice was even, calm. He was clearly trying to talk down whatever this was. He placed a hand on Dorian’s fist. “It’s not like that with her. Believe me. It’s not like that at all.”
“What’s it like, then, Ares?” Dorian’s jaw worked, and between the two boys, they filled the small hallway. Ares had height, but Dorian was huge too. The football player crushed dudes well beyond his height, and I’d seen it on the field.
Really, the two of them barely fit in my entryway, and what the fuck was all this? I started to move in that direction, but Dorian slammed Ares against the wall.
“You let me in here, and all I see is fucking shot glasses and her sleeping on the goddamn couch.” Dorian leaned in, his Adam’s apple flicking. “So tell me what it’s like?”
“Not what you’re thinking.”
“Fuck you, Ares,” Dorian growled. “The guys told me you were hanging with her, but I passed that shit off until your phone showed me where you were. We can track each other’s phones, and you know that.”
Ares’s blink was slow. “I had to. She needed help and texted me. Her brother—”
Dorian’s fist collided with Ares’s jaw so sharply I screamed, both boys whipping in my direction.
“What the fuck!” I charged over, stepping over an actual plant. It lay shattered on the floor like something had been tossed into it.
Or someone.
Both boys watched my strides with wide eyes, but it was Dorian to pin me still. His body heaved with charged heat, and I hadn’t seen him in so long.
I hadn’t been in his presence.
He absolutely filled the entire space he was in, and I was only ninety percent sure that had to do with his actual size. Lips parted, that flush blazed all over his face, his hair silky and curled over his eyes. It appeared longer, blond spools cutting over his dark irises. He was still ridiculously beautiful.
And I hated him for that.
I hated him for what I still felt, and forcing myself to ignore it, I shoved him off of Ares.
Dorian’s eyes twitched. Like actually twitched as if I’d slapped him. He watched in what appeared to be shocked fascination as I got between him and his friend. I put a hand out. “What the fuck is your problem, Prinze?”
Another eye twitch, a tic this time in his right eye. He said nothing, his full lips closing, and when I spotted Ares, he stood the same way.
