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“Let’s do this!” Kendall shouts over the music as the doors slide open directly into Max and Finn’s loft.
There are people everywhere, shoulder to shoulder. It looks like he’s invited everyone he knows from campus, which makes me roll my eyes because Kendall was clearly missing her invitation. Not that he doesn’t like my roommate, he just thinks she’s loud and her lack of a filter pisses him off. More so when he’s drinking.
All things I love about her.
Leading the way through the crowd, in search of my brother or alcohol, whichever we find first, I keep Kendall’s hand clasped in mine. Neither of us are tall enough to see over the crowd, my five-foot-three and her five-foot-four stature swallowed up by the large bodies around us.
I recognize almost all of them, tossing a head nod here and there when my eyes connect. Most are part of Max’s fraternity, a few I recognize from the baseball team.
As we finally step out of the throng of people and into the kitchen, I let out a sigh. The open concept of Max’s loft is great for entertaining but that doesn’t stop people from crowding together.
Case and point … the kitchen is empty. Which happens to be where the alcohol is.
“Beer or punch?” I ask Kendall, sliding around the island.
She thinks it over, rubbing the heart tattoo on the inside of her wrist as I fill my red, plastic cup with punch. She stares at my cup for a second, and I immediately know what she wants. Handing it to her, she takes a sip, her eyes widening in surprise. It’s probably stronger than either of us are used to knowing my brother.
If the drink calls for an ounce of booze, he’ll give it two. Multiply that by a hundred to make a large batch and suddenly the punch packs a punch.
“Punch,” Kendall hollers at me over the music, attempting to hand my cup back. Shaking my head, I fill a second cup and clink mine against hers. “To our last night at sophomores. May next year be even better than this year.”
And here I thought this year would be better than last year.
Nope. I was wrong.
Next year can’t get any worse, I think to myself as I spot Brady walking by.
“Hey! Where’s Max?” I ask, placing my hand on his forearm. When he turns toward me, I notice his face pales.
“Willow. I’m so sorry,” he replies, pulling me in for a hug.
“What? Where’s Max?” I ask again, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge. Something’s not right. I can feel it. “Brady! What’s going on? Where’s my brother?”
This time he releases me when I attempt to step away. Looking up into his gray eyes, I see his unshed tears. When he points down the hall toward Max’s room, I take off in a sprint. The door is closed, something that would normally make me pause, worried I might walk in on something I don’t want to see, but not tonight. I burst through the door, and everyone’s eyes whip in my direction.
Max is sitting on the edge of his bed, head bent, phone in his hand. I can’t see his face, his golden-brown locks hanging down and blocking my view. What I do notice is the slump of his shoulders and how they shake slightly every few seconds.
My brother is crying. I can’t remember the last time I saw him shed a tear.
“Willow,” Finn says, drawing my attention to him. Our eyes meet before I can avoid it, his flaring to life for a brief moment then calming. What I see in his deep brown globes causes my knees to buckle.
Devastation. Sorrow. Pain.
My knees give out, but Finn catches me before I hit the ground, scooping me up in his arms and holding me close. I rest my head against his chest, my body going numb.
I vaguely hear Colton, Kane, and Julian mumble their condolences to first Max and then Finn, clapping Finn on the shoulder before exiting the room. It’s just the three of us now and my body is on high alert. Not only am I still in Finn’s arms but something is wrong with my brother, and I seem to be the only person who isn’t aware of what’s going on.
I wiggle out of Finn’s arms, and he sets me on my feet but doesn’t release me. His hands fall to my hips, and he pulls me back against him chest. I try to step away, his touch too much to bear, but he only tightens his grip.
“Max.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
When he lifts his eyes to mine, I intuitively know my world is about to fall apart. They’re bloodshot and tears are still streaming down his face. He flicks his eyes to Finn’s, and I feel Finn nod. Instantly, Max is standing in front of me.
“Lo, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Fuck! He’s never this serious with me. He sounds like Dad right now when I’m in trouble or when he’s lecturing all three of us—me, Max, and our little sister, Evie—about the importance of keeping good grades and being responsible.
I stare at his mouth as he says the words that shatter my world. I don’t hear anything after that, the room spinning around me as I try to comprehend what’s happening. My body feels weak, my legs heavy as I take a step toward his open arms, but I don’t remember the feel of his embrace, blacking out before I reached him.
