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Sloane throws her head back, scrubbing her hands over her face and heaving an exasperated sigh. “Can’t we just move past this? I’m here now, so we have to coexist.” She takes a little step closer, her expression softening. “We were friends once, Madd. Can’t we just… start over?”
“What, you wanna act like the past eight years never happened?” I growl, narrowing my eyes on her. “Fine by me, Sloane. Better yet, how about we pretend none of it did? Just go ahead and forget it all, because I sure as shit have.”
I turn around and storm away, so damn agitated that my skin is itchy with the urge to shift. Anger always brings my inner wolf to the surface, and the restrictions on shifting don’t help matters. The angrier I get, the more he pushes forward, and the harder he pushes, the more irritated I become. It’s like a vicious cycle, trapping me in an endless loop of my own rage because I can’t just let him out to run it off.
I head for the cluster of furniture in the corner where my friends always post up, whiskey sloshing in the bottle dangling from my fist with every step. Over the years of throwing parties here, we’ve dragged barstools and chairs from the lodge restaurant and couches from the lobby into this ballroom, forming a crude semi-circle of mismatched seating. Iver, Tristan, and Ares are lounging there with drinks in hand when I throw myself down onto one of the couches with an annoyed groan.
The three of them look my way as I raise the bottle to my lips, taking a healthy pull of whiskey.
Iver glances toward Sloane across the room, then arches a brow at me. “So I take it that went well?”
8
After Madd storms away, I just stand there reeling from our confrontation, feeling completely out of place amongst the crowd of strangers until Avery returns from the bathroom.
“What’s wrong?” she asks as soon as she sees the look on my face, but I don’t tell her. We never talk about Madd. It’s been an unspoken rule between us since I started dating her brother all those years ago; she’s basically best friends with both of us, so it wouldn’t be fair to put her in the middle of our squabbling, no matter how badly I wanted to after I moved away and he was radio silent.
I didn’t pull her into our drama then, and I don’t do it now. Once again, I just suffer in silence, a sea of my own thoughts and insecurities trying their damndest to pull me under.
It takes Avery all of two seconds to put it together, though, her head swiveling between Madd, downing a bottle of whiskey like it’s his job, and me, fidgeting and frowning.
She sighs when I don’t respond, giving me a pitying look and linking her arm through mine. “C’mon,” she urges, tugging me to move with her.
I take a few steps before I realize that she’s leading me in the direction of the makeshift lounge area in the corner, and I dig in my heels, refusing to budge another step.
“I should go.”
Because this isn’t my world anymore, and I feel it now more than ever. I used to party at the lodge all the time- I helped Madd drag the very couch he’s currently sitting on from the lobby to this room. But that was nearly a decade ago, and even though it’s a familiar scene, nothing feels the same as it once was. I used to be part of it all. Now I’m an outsider looking in, struggling to find my footing in a life that I left behind.
I’ve put on a good front since I’ve been back, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have raging insecurities about how I’ll fit in after being away for so long.IfI still fit in.
“Oh, stop,” Avery admonishes, rolling her eyes. “Don’t let Madd scare you off. He isn’t the fucking king around here.”
Except he kindais. As the oldest male heir, Madd has been leading our rag tag gang since we were in diapers. He may not be in charge of our group in any official capacity, but from what I saw at the complex yesterday, it’s clear that everyone still looks to him for guidance.
Which is another reason why I’m feeling so damn uncomfortable around my old friends. If they had to choose sides, they’d choose Madd’s. I know that. They may all be putting on a good show at welcoming me back, but I doubt they truly want me here, upending the status quo.
Avery gives me a hard look. “Don’t make me pick you up and carry you over there.”
I snort a laugh, curly hair swishing in front of my face as I shake my head. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wanna bet?” She arches a brow, and for a second I think she really means it. Avery’s strong- every inch of her lean frame is toned to perfection, the result of years of disciplined, rigorous training. Her mom was known as the ‘barbie beast’, and the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I have no doubt she’d be able to overpower me effortlessly.
“Oh my gosh, I’m kidding!” she laughs, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Lighten up, babe. It isn’t like you to be this sullen. You’re usually a little ray of sunshine.”
“I know,” I sigh, raking a hand through my hair and glancing around. “I’m just kinda… out of my element here.”
Avery’s brows pinch together in confusion. “Since when? The Sloane I knew loved a good party. Now buck up,” she says, slapping me on the back, “and let’s go hang out with our friends. You’re back now, babe, and it’s time that everyone got used to it.”
I blow out a slow breath, shoring up my confidence. “You’re right,” I concede. “Okay. Let’s go.”
She grins in triumph, linking her arm with mine again and leading me over to the cluster of seating where the guys are hanging out. I hold my breath as we approach, but Madd doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even look up at me.
I make a beeline for the seat furthest from him- a barstool against the wall- and slide onto it, crossing my legs and leaning back with a sigh.
“Where’s your drink, Sloane?” Iver asks, eyeing me up. If he wasn’t like a brother to me, I’d probably be struck by how attractive he’s grown up to be. He’s classically handsome, with blonde hair and gorgeous baby blues, and he’s got this whole clean-cut, preppy vibe going on. Not my type, but definitely not hard on the eyes either.
No, apparently my type is the moody bad boy covered in ink and drowning in whiskey.
