It doesn't take long before the only thing separating Sabrina and me are our clothes. The alcohol went to her head pretty fast. A small part of me thinks I should have started her out with something lighter, but when her hips grind against my groin, all my gentleman-like qualities abandon me.

My hands move from her waist to her hips as I press her tighter against me. A hot need courses through my veins and my whole body heats up.

One of my hands trails up Sabrina's side, not stopping until I take her chin and turn her head just enough to trail kisses along her jawline. My hand moves to her inner thigh to pull at her dress when my tongue darts into her mouth. I barely hear her whimper above the music, but I feel it against my lips as I trail my fingers over the lining of her panties.

I press her body firmly against the wall with my own. A sudden gasp escapes her soft lips when I grip her leg and wrap it around my waist to close the remaining distance between us.

My brain goes into overdrive, exploding with dopamine as I become a slave to it. Sabrina's fingers dig into my back before moving up to become entangled in my hair. The light tugging of my brown locks makes me groan as I release my unresolved sexual frustration on her neck. I trail my teeth over her fair skin and she immediately shivers underneath me.

The more I tease her with my tongue, the more I feel her melt in my arms. For once, she is letting everything go and is allowing me to do what I want. My kisses follow an invisible path along her jaw, my fingers trailing along the zipper of her dress.

"Austin, wait." Sabrina pushes against me lightly.

"What?" I pant, still running my hands along her back.

Sabrina looks a little out of it when I gaze down at her. "I don't feel too good."

Before I can ask to take her home, loud shouting bursts through the room. Not even the heavy party music is able to drown out the heated argument.

It's hard to get a good look through the large crowd, but I can see Bradley shoving someone away from his younger sister, Stephanie. She's only a freshman so he's obviously very protective of her.

Grabbing Sabrina's hand, I guide her through the bystanders to see what's going on. I stop when I'm able to get a clear view. Whittney Rhodes, an old friend of mine, is the one who got pushed and shoves Bradley back in retaliation.

Usually, Bradley is a peacekeeper, but Whittney must have really crossed a line to piss him off so much.

"Stephanie can dance with whoever she wants." Whittney pushes Bradley again, making him stumble back.

He recovers fast. "Not if that person is you."

There's heavy tension in the air. Like there is more going on than just Whittney's choice in dance partners.

"Just stay away from her," Bradley huffs.

He turns to walk away, but Whittney does what he does best, and runs his mouth. "Will she stay away from me, though?"

Whittney winks, but I can't see who it's directed at. But Bradley does, because he turns to look behind him and then loses it. He decks Whittney and tackles him before he can fight back. Things escalate quickly as they roll around on the floor, getting a few hits in before Cole and Jameson, our kicker, pull them away from each other.

Harry Whittemore, who's more Whittney's friend than mine, goes to grab him. When Harry can barely hold him back, I step in to help. I secure him easily, while Harry still struggles a bit.

"Get your friend out of here, Austin!" Rodney's bark breaks through the commotion.

My friend. As if I can even still call him that.

The smell of liquor on Whittney's breath is overpowering, and I scrunch my nose. Whittney tears his arm away from Harry and mumbles under his breath. Harry looks deflated as he looks at his friend.

"Come on, Whittney." My jaw clenches. He embarrassed me in front of everyone. Again. "You need to go."

Dumping Whittney into Harry's arms, I look over the dispersing crowd for my girlfriend. No doubt, she bolted when she saw what was going down.

"She's gone, jerkwad."

A groan escapes me when I turn to see Amber. Her snarky look glares back at me the same way it always does through those long lashes of hers.

I look at Harry. "Go wait by my car. I'll take you both home."

Amber scoffs when Harry nods, half-carrying Whittney in the direction of the door.

"You've just got him wrapped around your douche-y little finger, don't you?"

I frown, not sure of what she's implying. "I don't have time for your lame sarcasm right now. Where's Sabrina?"

She crosses her arms, raising her brows at me.

"Just tell me where she is," I growl.

Amber huffs, giving in. "She left with Grace. Said she wasn't feeling well."

It's probably better that she left. Driving a severe asthmatic and a delusional Whittney is already enough. I don't want to add an opinionated girlfriend to the mix. That is just too much for one night.

"That wasn't that hard, was it?" I smirk triumphantly.

She scoffs. "You're such an asshole."

With that, she walks away, and I say goodbye to the guys before heading to my car. Whittney's sitting on the trunk, which I would have yelled at him for if I didn't have another bone to pick with him. Harry stands off to the side, ignoring whatever dumb shit his friend is ranting about now.

"You want to explain what happened back there?" I growl at both of them, fists clenched.

Harry looks at his feet, chewing his bottom lip as he stays silent.

Whittney shrugs. "Wanted to piss Bradley off."

"Why the hell would you wanna do that?" Bradley has always been nothing but nice to everyone at school, including Whittney. It doesn't make any sense why he would target him.

He glances at Harry, who avoids eye contact.

"Why are you always starting shit?" I can feel my nails dig into my palms as I take a step forward.

"I don't always start shit," he grumbles.

"Right." I scoff. "You practically thrive off of other people's problems."

"Oh, is that what you think?" He pushes himself off the car and stands to meet me, eye to eye. "Maybe you should go back to the party and hang out with your real friends, then. You always seem so eager to ditch us for them."

"Guys, stop!" Harry's sudden interjection causes both our heads to turn. "I'm so sick of the two of you fighting all the time. Let's just go home, alright?"

Whittney and I are both still seething, glaring into each other's eyes again. I'm the first one to break the staring contest. The asshole isn't worth it, he never has been. I slam the car door behind me after I get in the driver's seat and wait for them to get in. They both sit in the back and I tighten my hands on the steering wheel.

It's like I'm their fucking Uber driver or something.

~ ~ ~

After I drop them off, I dread going home. I'm not completely sober, and the fact that I'm driving will be enough to piss off my father. Since the paint fiasco, I've been walking a fine line with him. Even little screw-ups force his hand these days.

When I get home, I quietly close the front door and sneak past my father's study. To my dismay, he clears his throat as I walk by. I take a couple of steps back before turning to face him. There's a half-empty bottle of bourbon on his desk and he's surrounded by paperwork. Tired eyes bore into me as he takes another sip from his glass.

"You're home late." Andrew raises his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair.

My weight shifts to my other foot and I chew on my inner cheek. "Uh, yeah. I was at a party. We won our homecoming game."

"Ah." There's a menacing look in his eyes as they narrow. He straightens his back before leaning over his desk. "So you thought you'd miss curfew and drive home intoxicated?"

"I didn't drive drunk."

Glass shatters against the door next to my head and I cover my eyes with my arm. I slowly lower it, my body shaking from the close encounter. A couple of shards fall from my sleeve as my arm drops to my side. One of those could have gotten in my eyes if I hadn't reacted fast enough.

"Don't lie, Austin," He huffs, now on his feet. "Not to me."

"Okay." I hold up my arms defensively once he's a few feet away. "So I had a couple of drinks, but I'm not drunk, I swear."

Andrew exhales before his hand strikes my cheek. The stinging of my lip is followed by the taste of iron teasing my taste buds. When I touch it, blood coats my fingers. The split lip throbs as I glare at my father.

"Dammit," Andrew curses as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's late. We'll discuss this further in the morning."

I don't argue and head straight to my room in the basement. When I get to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I see the damage. The spot where he hit me is already swelling and will be more than noticeable. Tomorrow, I'll be meeting Sabrina's parents for the first time when I pick her up for the Homecoming Dance, so it's not the best way to make a first impression. Lucky for me, I've gotten pretty good at cover stories.

It's just the price I pay for being Andrew Griffin's son.