AS SOON AS I leave my last class of the day, I'm in a miserable ass mood. Not only because I have a family dinner that I seriously don't want to attend, but also due to fucking Sam and his constant need to get Emery into trouble. The entirety of the class, he begged and pleaded with her to attend her other friend's boyfriend's stupid fucking party, and a part of me wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up and take no for an answer, but Emery isn't mine to protect no matter how much I may want her to be.

My fingers grip the leather steering wheel as I near my parent's house, letting out a frustrated sigh and turning up some screamo music to drown out my thoughts. It doesn't work.

Emery agreed to go to the party she had no business being at. She's a grown woman, I know that, but the boys at those parties aren't up to any good. They'll do anything to get a piece of ass for the night, and all it would take is one pill to slip into her drink when she isn't looking. And if I brought this to her attention, it'd just result in another screaming match. She'd say I'm ridiculous and that things like that don't happen at parties, and I'd tell her she's ridiculous for thinking that it couldn't happen.

Around and around, we'd fight until one of us would give up, stomp upstairs to our room, and slam the door—a common occurrence since she's been staying with me. My family still doesn't know, and they aren't going to. The minute Izzy hears Emery moved in, she'll make my life a living hell like she did in high school. My sister sniffed out my crush on her before I even knew I had a crush on her. And she never let me forget it.

The driveway to my parent's house is insanely long. Hedges upon hedges pass by me as I climb the hill to the enormous fucking mansion of theirs. It's not that I hate coming here because I don't, but being around family makes me...feel things I'm not used to. Ever since my father started to make up for all the time he lost during my childhood, I've pushed back as much as I could to keep all of my family at arm's length. I'm content being alone. I always have been. I want to keep it that way.

Shutting the door to my car behind me, I walk up the stone pathway and open the front door without knocking. An aroma of tomato sauce and garlic floods through my nostrils, and then I spot Mason with my sister straddling his waist, making out against the staircase's railing.

I almost throw up, but I keep it together and scoff as I slip my shoes off. "It's nice to know your constant desire to fuck my sister hasn't vanished yet," I say with distaste.

Izzy pulls away from Mason to come up for air, wriggling out of his grasp until her feet are firmly planted on the floor again. "It's nice to see you too, Everett. How's college?"

I shrug. "It's fine. Probably not as fun as your life, though." Izzy graduated from Santa Monica College with a degree in fashion design. She graduated with the same degree Emery is pursuing, and after Izzy finished school, she started up her clothing line with a loan from my father, and her business is flourishing. Her store is downtown on Rodeo Drive, and Fashion Week is showcasing her designs this year. I'm proud of her as much as it would kill me to say it verbally. Extremely proud.

"Busy as always," she admits, "but now that we have a wedding to plan, life has become a lot more fun."

"I can see that," I say with an arched brow.

Mason releases my sister and pulls me in for a hug, slapping me on the back. "How've you been, man? We need to hit the slopes again sometime soon. We only left a few weeks ago, and I'm already missing it."

"I am, too," I reply.

"Maybe you can bring your girlfriend this time," he says as my Dad rounds the corner. My body is frozen as stiff as a board as he wraps me in an embrace, my eyes narrowed on Mason's.

"What are you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend."

Izzy seems confused, too, very intent on listening with her manicured nails wrapped around the end of the railing.

"Liam called me yesterday and informed me of your situation with Emery."

Fucking Liam.

I am going to kill him. Why did I ever introduce the two of them in the first place? They just had to hit it off by liking the same baseball team, didn't they?

"It's not—" I sigh when Izzy starts to bounce back and forth on the balls of her feet. "We aren't dating."

"Right. Just living together," Mason muses.

"Living together?" Izzy practically screams and launches herself at me, gripping me by the shoulders. "Everett Ethan Holden, I knew she was the one for you! I freaking knew it! The way you both looked at each other was so obvious."

I shrug out of her grasp and roll my eyes. "We aren't together. She's just going through a rough time. I'm helping her out right now. For Liam."

"Riiight," Mason and Izzy say simultaneously, clearly not believing me.

Thankfully, my Dad steps in and places a hand on my shoulder. "Let's stop interrogating Everett and go eat, alright? Your Mom made an incredible batch of spaghetti, and it'd be a shame if you all start a brawl before we even get the chance to eat it."

My sixteen-year-old brother Connor rounds the corner with a bag of chips, shoving his mouth with another handful. "It's about time he gets laid," he says with a smile. "Maybe then he'll stop being Oscar the grouch."

"Shut the fuck up, Connor," I seethe. "Where do you put all of that food, anyway? I'm surprised you're not popping out of your jeans now."

He pats his toned stomach and lets out a burp. "Hockey keeps me active. Along with other endeavors."

I miss the sweet, innocent Connor. Connor, who was too shy to speak half the time. Before he got into high school, discovered girls, and got a big fucking head by being good at hockey. We all thought he'd be a baseball player, but he fell in love with the puck more. At least my Dad got what he wanted from one of his sons. At least Connor followed in his footsteps.

My Dad smacks Connor on the back of the head. "One day, you're going to meet someone who's going to butcher through that ego of yours," he says with a laugh.

"Agreed," Izzy adds, grinning up at Mason. He smiles back at her and wraps a finger into her belt loop, tugging her closer until she's against his chest. I swear, nothing could tear them apart from each other. They're stuck together like superglue.

"When did this become a counseling session for me?" Connor asks, wrinkling his nose up. "We were talking about Everett and Emery the last time I checked."

Izzy strides forward to ruffle the hair on Connor's head, glancing over her shoulder to give me a wicked grin. "We don't need to discuss Everett anymore. Emery's already wiggled her way into his heart. He knows it, too."

They all walk together down the hall into the dining room, and I'm so frustrated that my blood is practically boiling. "You guys barely even know her!" I shout with exasperation.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Exhausted after a night with my family, I'm entering the code to unlock my front door when Emery swings it open, purse and keys already in hand. I'm fighting for my life not to look at her tits that are showcased by the low-cut dress she's wearing. The dress barely covers her ass, and when she crosses her arms underneath her breasts to enhance them further, she has a troublesome smile plastered on her lips.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going in that?" I ask, waving my hands up and down her body. Her hair falls in perfect waves down her back, and her lips are redder than usual from the lipstick. Her eyes are darker. Her lashes are longer. She looks downright incredible.

"Oh, am I supposed to ask you for approval? I didn't realize that was one of the rules of living here."

I grit my teeth together, fists clenched at my sides.

"You're the one who decided to fill the closet with designer clothes, correct? That's the only explanation for all the bags when I opened it, so why not? If a man thinks I'm too poor to shop for my own clothes, I'll choose the sluttiest option out of the lot. Might as well look good if I'm going to return them all tomorrow."

I let out a laugh, running my hands over my face. Between my family's comments about us and how she always seems to defy me... I'm going to go fucking insane. "I did something nice for you!" I shout. "How is this coming back to bite me in the ass? You had two duffel bags at your feet when you arrived, Emery. Why must you be so prideful? Just accept the goddamn clothes!"

"I don't need the clothes!" She screams, shoving me back with her hands. "I'm not like all those other girls you fuck, Everett. I'm not Chelsey. I'm perfectly content owning four pairs of jeans and a couple of tops. I don't want to wear designer clothing that costs more than a car when I don't even have one!"

"So you'd rather have your own car instead of the clothes? Will you at least use the money after you return the clothing to buy one?"

"Oh my god, I—" She laughs in disbelief, throwing her arms up. "You're ridiculous! I know Liam didn't make you loan me your car. I know it was your idea, Everett, and I can't for the life of me figure out why the fuck you're doing all of this when you hate me. I don't want the clothes, and I don't want your fucking car. I'm not a goddamn charity case!" She shoves the keys against my chest and storms off down the hallway for the elevator.

"You think you're walking down the street in that?" I pick up my pace after her, and since her legs are so short, I reach her in only a few seconds. "You are not walking downtown in that scrap of fabric without carrying some form of protection. Over my dead body. Do you even own pepper spray? You can't walk through life thinking nothing bad will happen to you, Emery!"

"Watch me," she seethes, jabbing the button for the elevator.

Tapping my foot impatiently on the marble floor, I breathe in and out, trying to rein in my temper, but it's almost impossible. I'm caught between shaking some sense into her and shoving her against that wall, running my hands up her dress and fingering that attitude right out of her.

"Looks like I'm going to a party then," I say.

She laughs louder than I'm used to, probably because she's angry. "You don't party, Everett."

"Neither do you. There's a first time for everything."

When the elevator doors open, she stomps inside, stumbling slightly in her heels, and it's an effort not to laugh. Despite her temper, she's sexy when she's pissed. Those pouted lips, perky breasts...

"Fine," she says, distracting me from my thoughts. "I don't care whether you go, but I'm not riding with you. I'm walking to the party just like this."

I nod with a sarcastic smile on my face. "Alright. And I'll be trailing behind you the entire way."

"And I'll walk impossibly slow."

"And I'll drive even slower."

Somewhere between all the comebacks, we're chest-to-chest now in this elevator, both of us panting heavily. I watch her pulse quicken as I eye her throat and then move my gaze to her eyes once more. "Keep playing this game with me, Emery," I mutter lowly, dipping my mouth next to her ear. The goosebumps that rise on her skin please me. It's good to know I get to her. "But I can play it so much better."

"I hate you," she releases in a rushed whisper.

"Feeling's fucking mutual. Now what'll it be? Walk in those death traps for two miles or hitch a ride with me?"

Author's Note:

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