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Fucker isn’t fooling anyone.
Finn’s been such a wreck over Dia this past week everyone and their grandma know the only pussy he could ever want to “recruit” is hers. He thinks he’s so smooth, pretending like he doesn’t want her here, but I’d be willing to bet he was actually hoping Theo would invite her tonight.
He’s the one who asked Theo to host the party in the first place. Dia will definitely have him begging for a second chance before the party’s over. The guy’s completely whipped, but he’d rather slam his meat in a car door than admit it. I’ve never, in the many years I’ve known him, seen Finn want to chase a girl like this. Key word: want to, because he’s not letting himself do it.
Of course not.
Too much pride up in this bitch.
He showed up at Dia’s house last weekend, and she turned him down. Any normal guy would keep trying after that but not Finley Richards. Nope. Finn thought it’d be a better idea to start avoiding her like the plague.
Call it a bruised ego or complete incapacity to deal with basic emotions. Whatever it is, it’s got Finn trying to convince himself that he never cared about her anyway.
He won’t even tell Dia that he didn’t cheat on her. He swore it on his life, and normally I’d call BS, but the look on his face after she left with Vee that night? I believe him.
Although I can’t blame Dia for thinking otherwise.
The evidence is pretty damning.
Every time I ask him why he won’t just get over himself and tell her the truth, he spins me a bunch of crap about how he had his fun with Dia, but he’s bored of her now. It’s like he thinks needing her, or anyone, is above him or some shit.
But I know my dickhead of a best friend, and while I’m sure in Finn’s trauma-plagued little world there’s a good explanation for this, he’s going to have to grow up and start acting like a normal person soon.
Before he loses the only girl who can put up with him.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Finn fumes at something in the distance.
My head jerks back.
I spot Dia, Lacey, and Aveena stumbling through the front door clutching vodka bottles. They already look wasted, well, except for Vee. Girl looks painfully sober.
As always.
“Yep, I’m out.” Finn collects his liquor bottle off the couch, throws back a long sip, and dissolves into the crowd of party animals. Doubt we’ll be seeing him much tonight.
As soon as hurricane Finn’s cleared, Axel ditches the girl he was hitting on by the spiked punch and makes his way over to snatch Finn’s seat. Theo mirrors his actions, plopping down on the leather couch. He feels shitty about the Dia thing, I can tell.
“He’ll get over it,” I tell him.
Theo gives a small nod, not convinced.
“Quick question. When did Aveena Harper get this fucking hot?” Axel erupts, hungry eyes shadowing someone around the party. I track his stare to Vee and her friends chatting by the stereo. The answer pops in my head, flickering to life like a broken neon sign.
She was always this hot.
She’s just a professional at hiding it.
The girl walks around with hunched shoulders in her loose sweaters and torn jeans, terrified to let someone see her. It’s like she feels bad for taking up space or something.
But not tonight.
Tonight, she’s different.
She went all out—makeup, hair, the whole shebang. This has to be the first time I’ve ever seen Aveena wear something remotely tight. Thank God for leggings.
“Turn around, baby. Come on.” Axel cranes his neck for a peek of Vee’s ass, which is facing away from us. “Show me what I’m working with.”
As if they heard him, the girls spin on their heels, heading for the kitchen where a few guys from the team are playing Flip Cup. I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t check out Aveena’s ass as she walked.
