AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The Zetas are in charge of the Valentine’s gala this year. Since we’re partnered with them, we’re required to help. Which means someone from the house has to work one-on-one with Cleo, and unless I can find a volunteer, I’ll have to do it. Which will make the next two months of my life a living hell. She’s already—”
“Oh, I’ve heard how much she likes you, Max. I’m pretty sure everyone has.” Not that I would wish Cleo’s wrath on anyone. She’s a little crazy with a hot temper and a vindictive streak a mile long. Crossing her is not a good idea. Max should have known that. Maybe he did. Still, he pissed her off years ago, and he’s paying for it. “Just tell me what you want me to do, Max.”
“I’m supposed to meet with her tomorrow morning, ten o’clock, at the rec hall. If you take on this project, I swear I won’t ask you to do anything else the rest of the year.”
Tempting.
Not that we have much going on between now and when we graduate, but there’s always random shit that pops up. It would be nice to not have to worry about Max springing bullshit tasks on me. Especially when it comes to rush next semester. I’d love to be able to skip a few of those events.
“Isn’t Julian responsible for shit like this?”
“Getting him to commit to anything right now is impossible. Between the restaurant, training for baseball season, and spending every free moment he has with Piper, I barely see the guy. And now that he’s been accepted to culinary school, I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot less of him.”
Fucking Julian.
Of course the bastard found himself a girlfriend. Women have been falling at his feet for years. Begging for a chance with him. But he’s been stuck on Piper for as long as I can remember. And she was the only one who didn’t see it. The rest of us have been poking fun at what we thought was a crush.
For some reason, I was still a little shocked the day I got the text message when he finally confessed what we all knew.
I’m truly happy for him.
But the fact that his happiness is now screwing me over is less than appealing. Not that I hold a grudge against him, or any of my friends, who are currently living in their own little love bubbles right now.
There was a time in my life I thought I’d found the girl for me. Didn’t work out. Still trying to forget about her. It’s damn hard when I run into her all the time, though.
“Kane?” I suggest.
“Shot me down before I could even explain what I wanted.”
“What about one of the newbies? Leo?”
“Still can’t be in the same room with him without wanting to punch him.”
That was an eventful day. My favorite part was when Evie punched Max, though. The girl has moxy. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially her older brother.
Listing off the remaining responsible brothers, I watch as Max shakes his head every time. They’ve all shot him down. Either they refuse to be alone with Cleo, or they’ve already left town for the holidays.
And I can’t use that as an excuse. He knows it. I don’t celebrate the holidays with my family. I barely visit. And I’ve already volunteered to stay at the house and keep an eye on it while everyone else is gone.
Instead of answering Max right away, I signal the bartender over and order us two beers. I don’t say a word as I down mine. He twists his glass on the bar top while staring at me the entire time, his aggravation radiating off him in waves.
His eyes never leave me as I make my way on stage for sound check. Smirking at him, I tap my finger on the microphone to make sure it’s on.
“Check, check.” My voice can barely be heard over the muffles of the growing crowd, so I repeat myself after adjusting the volume. “Check, check.”
Once I’m satisfied, I nod to Nash and Ace who both go through their routines. I notice a few small groups watching us, so before I jump off the stage, I put on a little show for the onlookers.
“Hey, everyone. I’m Colt, and we’re Fade Into Nothing. We’ll be starting our set in a little less than an hour. We hope you all stick around.”
The two girls who were flirting with Ace and Nash earlier are cheering from the far side of the room, bouncing up and down.
Guaranteed they’re going to flash us their boobs later. The chestier one isn’t wearing a bra.
Groupies.
That’s what I call them. They’re not here for the music. They couldn’t give a shit less what we’re singing about. All their looking for is someone to latch onto that will pay them attention.
I hate groupies.
