Five was four too many shots of tequila. Especially when it was Beau's 100-proof expensive tequila.

Beau had sat back and watched with an amused expression as Nessa and I threw back his booze. And then, when we'd reached for our sixth shot, his eyes grew wide—like he realized what he'd done.

He whisked the glasses and bottle away.

Nessa had pouted for about half a second before throwing her hands in the air, shouting, "Your turn, B!"

With a laugh, Beau had shaken his head. "I don't think so. If we're going out with the two of you lookin' like that and drunk as shit, I gotta keep my wits about me."

"Just take one shot, Beau," I'd whined back at him, trying to tip the bottle toward his mouth even though the cap was on.

Beau wasn't having it. "Bren would kill me if something happened to you. Bro has a gun now, ya know. I ain't messing with that."

"Bren ruins everything," I'd pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"Speaking of Bren, I'm gonna send him a picture!" Nessa exclaimed, jumping up from the floor where we'd all been sitting. Then she'd made a face like she said something she wasn't supposed to...before shrugging and taking her phone out anyway.

I'd brightened at her suggestion because despite what I'd said, I didn't really know how to stay mad at Bren. Popping up to pose for Nessa, I threw a hand on one hip. A hell of a lot of effort went into this outfit, and he deserved to see it. That was how my drunk brain had worked, anyway.

Beau responded by rolling his eyes and laughing again. He'd also muttered something too soft to hear—or I was simply too tipsy to comprehend. But it was a good guess that he was still concerned Bren would come after his ass.

Now, we were at the party, and Beau's eyes were still rolling as he scanned the scene.

The shitty college house was dark, illuminated only by the neon strip lights that ran along the ceiling's perimeter. They kept flashing between firetruck red and kelly green, giving me a headache that was only made worse by the Bose speakers pumping Rockstar—a song I only knew from a TikTok trend that, in my opinion, should just be canceled already.

We took a few steps inside, and I stumbled on something—kicked-off shoes probably. Beau caught me around the waist before I could go crashing to the ground. At the same moment, Nessa collapsed onto the staircase near the front door, looking like she'd just walked miles instead of a few blocks.

"Fuck, I knew we shouldn't have come," Beau muttered beneath his breath, looking between the two of us. "I'm gonna get you a water, Nes. Don't move."

Nessa nodded, even though she looked a little unsure. She forced herself back up, but not without a great deal of effort. Her expression all pinched, she grabbed my hand and tugged me out of the entryway, pressing us against the wall in some makeshift shady-ass living room so we'd be out of the way. It was crowded and hot. Some girls were standing on couches, yelling over the sea of drunk college kids. Bear bongs were thrust in the air like flags, hailing down more idiots.

Not that I could judge anyone at the moment, five tequila shots in.

I glanced over at Nessa, and she gave me a wan smile. But then that smile twisted, her face paling. "M, I'm gonna be sick."

She split, darting back outside.

I started after her, but the room abruptly spun. And Beau's voice trickled into my brain. Don't move.

He'd be back in a sec, and then I'd go check on little miss Addams. Poor girl.

I fell back against the wall, clutching my head and trying to make sense of what was going on around me. But everything was chaotic, a little blurry around the edges. Everything was—

"Well, if it isn't Madie Lenertz," a voice drawled. "Where's your feisty little friend?"

A square face swam in front of mine. And then my vision focused, and recognition was instantaneous. It was all that blue and gold. Why were they always wearing their football shit? The season was over, and they'd ended it in a losing slump. God, find something new to wear.

I dragged my gaze up to his. Icy, blue eyes stared back at me—like Quinton's.

They were all the same. Clinging to the one thing they were good at and thinking it made them better than the rest of us. Who the fuck decided that some talents were better than others?

"Get a fucking personality, Chad," I mumbled. My eyes flicked down and back up. "And a new wardrobe."

"My name's Brodie," he said flatly, his expression hardening. That stare of his narrowed until it became impossible to see the sparkling blue circle around his pupil.

"Cool." I didn't fucking care about this asshole. I needed to go find Nessa. I'd thought Beau would be back by now.

But when I tried to step past Brodie, he blocked me. "You're one to talk."

The room tilted a bit as I tried—and failed—to move past him again. "What?" The word came out as an exasperated sigh because I didn't have any more shits to give.

That only pissed Brodie off more.

"About a wardrobe. Look at you." His eyes snaked down my front, making me want to cover myself. Protect myself. Making me want to run. But then he said, "I don't know what you expect when you wear shit like that."

I stopped trying to go around him. Fire licked at my throat. "And what does that mean?"

"Fuck, there you are. You moved. I told you not to move."

Beau. Thank god, Beau. He sounded irritated. I wasn't sure if I've ever heard Beau sound irritated before. I thought happiness was just his personality.

"This guy bugging you?" He gave Brody a once over before wrinkling his nose. And then he gave him the cold-shoulder and turned back to me. "And where's Nessa?"

Fuck, Nessa.

My heart jumped into my throat before instantly falling back into my chest as Nessa's long, dark hair swayed into sight.

"I'm here," she said, stumbling back into the scene.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, but her fingers were rubbing at her temple. One shoulder slumped against the wall, her head leaning against some white trimming. "I'm fine."

"No, she's not." A guy appeared behind her, and I immediately noticed the way his arms slid in, hovering around her waist—not touching her. Just there.

Bren used to do that at parties. When I was still with Quinton. He never touched me. But I always knew he was there.

Nessa scowled at the guy behind her. "I'm fine, Grayson," she repeated.

Oh. Grayson, the guy from Western Civ. I blinked a few times, trying to focus on his face. As far as faces went, it was a nice one.

Grayson rolled his eyes at Nessa's dismissal, but he didn't actually seem annoyed. He pressed closer to her, and his lips tilted upward. "I just held your hair as you threw up in the bushes. You should go home."

Nessa mumbled something beneath her breath at that, protesting probably. But she looked like she wanted to go back to our room with how she kept swaying and closing her eyes. Beau shoved some water in her hands, and she eagerly drank it.

Grayson seemed like he'd heard Nessa's mutterings, but he didn't say anything. He looked to the group instead, and a frown pulled on his face.

"What's going on here?" he asked the question like it was directed at all of us, but his green-ish eyes had turned steely. They trained on Brodie.

Shit, I forgot that this ass was still here.

Brodie stiffened. "Fuck off, Gray." And then he surprised me, storming away.

I watched him go, his hulking frame cutting through the crowd. The idea that there might be a Quinton duplicate in this world made my lungs spasm. 

"Okay." Beau's voice cut into my thoughts. "We need to leave, I think. This was a colossal fail."

I nodded. Couldn't argue with that.

Stepping outside, I shivered. There was a thick fog spreading low across the ground tonight, and it crawled over my skin, much like Brodie's gaze had. I ambled behind Beau and Nessa, watching as he tried to keep her upright as we strolled down the sidewalk.

"Did that dude fuck with you, Nes?" I heard Beau lean down and ask her.

She glanced at him. "Who, Grayson?"

Beau nodded, his hair flopping, and I realized we'd walked away from that guy without saying goodbye. Or at least, I hadn't said anything. I wasn't sure about Beau and Nessa, to be honest. I'd been too eager to leave.

"No," Nessa said quietly, looking down at her feet. "He's harmless."

We made it back to our room, and I ditched my heels before following Nessa to the bathroom down the hall, where she proceeded to have a few rounds of head-in-toilet sessions that left me gagging. I wasn't usually so squeamish, but I was just drunk enough that I'd be joining her in a second if I wasn't careful.

When I escaped the bathroom for a bit of air, Beau insisted on switching with me; he gave me his water bottle and told me to go back to the room. He even watched me walk all the way down the hall—as if he didn't trust that I could make it ten doors away without passing out.

Sighing, I fumbled with my phone, taking it out for the first time in hours. I smiled, seeing that Bren had tried to call me earlier. I clicked on his name.

It rang so many times that I didn't think he would pick up, which I guess made sense considering it was two in the morning, but then I heard his sleepy voice.

"Madie?"

And I saw his sleepy face.

FaceTime was a genius invention.

"Is everything okay?" he mumbled. His eyes were slits, squinting at the screen. His hair was messy, just how I liked it.

Bren pulled the phone back. He must have rested it against some pillows or something because he threw one arm behind his head and the other rested over his bare chest.

A hard, bare chest that I wanted to run my hands over.

Bren chuckled, his lips pulling into a smirk.

Shit, had I said that aloud?

"Did I say that aloud?" I whined, taking my eyes off of him to find my bed in the dark room.

Wait.

Lights. I should turn them on.

I spun back around before glancing down at my phone again.

"You did," Bren said. His smile grew, his eyes widening as he woke up. "But it's okay. I mean, I wanna run my hands over your chest, too."

Groaning, I clutched my spinning head and said, "I just miss you, okay?"

I more than missed him. Drunk was a feeling I hadn't experienced for months, and it was releasing all my thoughts, allowing my brain to wander, to linger on the words he'd just said. Another groan fell out of my mouth.

As I found the light switch, I heard Bren's quiet voice say, "I miss you, too. Fuck, it's good to see you. I was worried."

My heart hurt.

And then... "Madie?"

The room lit up, and I grimaced. That was far too bright.

"Hm?"

"You're all over the place, baby. Are you back in your room now? Did you drink some water?"

Oh, right. The water.

I held it up so he could see, proudly displaying the bottle. "Beau gave me some. He's in the bathroom with Nessa. She's...not feeling the best."

He nodded, and his hair got all pushed up against the pillow. "Okay. Drink up for me, then."

I screwed the cap off and took a few gulps.

"Good girl. Now hop into bed before you trip on something." Bren chuckled lowly, and it made my skin tingle in the best of ways.

I got settled in bed, and Nessa came stumbling into the room, followed by Beau. Thankfully they were laughing, and I took that to mean Nessa must be feeling better. When they saw I was on the phone, their voices lowered.

Turning on my side, I propped the phone up on the wall so I could see Bren before snuggling into my pillow.

He smiled. "There you are."

"Did you get the picture Nessa sent?" I blurted. A sudden craving for validation filled me, needing Bren to extinguish the way Brodie had made me feel tonight with his slimy, judgmental stare.

His sleepy grin grew. "Yes, and you looked amazing."

I didn't need him to elaborate. I didn't need him to say more than that. The husky tone of his voice, the slightly flustered expression on his face, the flickering of his eyes—it all said more than words alone could.

God, I wished he was here so I could kiss him. Why couldn't he be here so I could kiss him? A low moan vibrated in my throat.

"And what are you wearing tonight, Bren Hadaway?" I asked, the words falling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Something inside me clenched as he chuckled again and said, "Just sweatpants."

I bit my lip. "Color?"

"Grey."

My voice dropped. "Well, can I see?"

A throaty laugh. And then the phone flipped around, flashing me a view of abs and sweatpants and—

The view flipped back to his face. There was a sheepish—but also sinful—expression there, stirring desire within me. "You were groaning and biting your lip," Bren said by way of explanation, shrugging at the tent in his pants. "I can't help it."

"We can hear you!"

I was pretty sure that was Beau. Or... maybe Nessa. Shit, I was drunker than I thought.

Whoever it was, I ignored them.

"Bren?"

"Madie, baby?" His voice was velvety. I just wanted to drown in it.

"Will you sleep with me tonight?" The words released on a sigh.

"Of course. Are you tired?"

"I'm so tired."

"Close your eyes, Madeline. I'm here with you."

I tested it out, hoping the room wouldn't spin as my eyelids fluttered shut. A blanket of black greeted me, tiny specks of gray, too. Nothing spun. "I wish you were actually here," I muttered. All I could think about was how good his arms would feel right now, assuring me I was okay. That I was safe. "I need you here, Bren."

I didn't know what else he said after that.

Sleep took me.

And I dreamed he was with me again.

🤍

I've added Grayson's character aesthetic to the chapter at the beginning of the book. I also added Caroline because I hadn't made one for her yet! Check it out if you want!
xoxo amelie