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“And you all stink and need showers as well,” he tells us. “Come in, collect your women, and tell all the others to fuck off while I take mine.”
“It’s your house,” I remind him.
“Yeah, that’s why it’s your job to kick them out.” Keir looks at me, and Lucas just smirks.
“Lucas can do it.”
“No, Lucas can’t speak to women to save his life. You’ll do it.”
The car comes to a stop, and we all get out. When the front door opens, we hear loud music. They’ve been drinking and doing God knows what for hours. Keir said our mother took all the kids back to her place to give the girls a break, which explains why the music is so loud.
Keir is the first to enter the house and goes straight to the girls. They are laughing, holding drinks in their hands. Meanwhile, Adora sits on the couch, watching them, her phone glued to her hand. Keir stalks right over, reaches out, and picks up his wife.
“Eww… you have blood on you!” she screams.
“Which you will help wash off.” We hear him say this as they leave.
Piper takes us in, a sour look plastered on her face. “I missed out on the action. You could have called.”
“We had it handled.”
“Yeah, yeah, assholes.” She picks up her bag and stomps out the door. Chanel and Merci are drunk and giggling. Lucas walks over and both of them put an arm over his shoulder.
“I’m a one-woman man now, Merci.” Merci giggles harder, and Chanel blushes as they walk out. They say goodbye to Adora but are too drunk to see her. To notice that something is wrong.
I’m sober as fuck, and I know. She stands, grabs her purse, and forces a smile when she sees me. “Time to go home.”
“Did you drive?” I ask.
“No, I’ll call a cab.” She moves to walk past me, but I grab her arm, stopping her. Her eyes lock on mine, and sadness is etched in them that I wish I could wipe away.
“Did you have fun?” I ask.
“I did, thanks for asking.”
“So what’s wrong then?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“All the other girls are drunk, and here you are, clutching your phone with a death grip, watching them instead of joining in.”
“Piper wasn’t drunk.”
“Piper was hoping to get a call from us,” I point out. “What’s your excuse?”
“I got a call,” she says quietly. “And a message.”
“Come back with me. I need to shower, then you can tell me about it.”
“That’s not a good idea,” she says, pulling her arm free.
“It is.”
“It’s not. I will only end up fucking you. And right now, that’s the last thing I want to do.”
Well, wasn’t that a slap in the face?
“Why don’t you want to fuck me?” I growl, leaning in.
