Breaking Even (8 page)

Poor Wren. He’s in for a night of hell.

“Your date’s here,” I grumble while moving over and slapping Wren on the arm, my eyes still on the girl I’d like to throw in the pool.

That’s not good enough. I need something epic after what she did to me earlier.

He turns around and looks at her, smiling as he says, “She looks like the only one here that came to relax.”

I frown as I try to understand his meaning. Is he complimenting her or putting her down?

“What do you—”

“Wren,” Ash interrupts, smiling as she guides Brin over. “This is the girl I’ve been telling you about.”

Brin looks down, acting as though she’s a little shy or awkward. That’s sure as hell not the girl I know.

“Hey,” she says bashfully when she finally peers back up.

“Hey,” Wren says back, giving her a smile he barely uses.

I still don’t know what’s going on with him, but I can tell he’s not really at this party. Well, physically he is, but his mind is a million miles away. He’s going to hurt her feelings if he doesn’t act right.

“Hey,” I mock, rolling my eyes before glaring at her.

Her smile morphs into a real one and grows as she looks at me, and then she bites back the taunting grin. “You smell... odd,” she says coyly, and I narrow my eyes at her.

“Wonder why?” I growl, and her laughter breaks free.

I don’t care how cute her damn laugh is, she’s still going to have one hell of a reckoning the second I find the perfect revenge.

“You two are still warring, I see,” Tria says, chuckling as she walks up.

Kode comes to rest a possessive hand on her hip, staking his claim as though I’m interested.

“She broke into my house and baby-oiled my floor, and then bombed me with air freshener,” I gripe, and everyone starts laughing, including Wren.

Her smile is aimed at me as she says, “We’re even. Truce for the night?”

Even? Ha! “We’re not even close to even, but yes—truce for the night. We need some boundaries.”

She nods, agreeing with me. I’ll regret that if I see something I could get back at her with. But for now, I’ll give her a damn temporary truce.

“Hey,” Ingrid says, sidling up beside me as she tries to interfere with our conversation.

Apparently
hey
is all anyone else wants to say tonight. At least this girl is completely normal, unlike some of the others Ash has introduced me to.

Brin’s eyes scan the long legs of the blonde attached to my arm, and she appraises the skin-tight dress that is glued to the body of the bomb-shell. I almost release a smug smile when she tugs at the ends of her shorts, obviously feeling uncomfortable. At least her shorts fit for a change.

That ass better not looks as good as it did the other night.

“Sorry,” Brin says, looking at Wren and away from me. “Ash said a barbeque, and, well, I didn’t realize it was a dress-to-kill barbeque.”

Everyone snickers as Wren moves closer, shrugging. “You look good to me. We can take a walk later, and you can tell me all about your future plans to torment Rye.”

I glare at the traitor who only sniggers at my expense. Brin forces a smile that doesn’t come close to reaching her eyes. Now I feel like an ass because I realize she feels really uncomfortable.

In all actuality, shorts and a tank top do make sense for a barbeque.

“Care to help me find a drink?” Ingrid asks, tugging at my arm.

“They’re at the bar,” I say, motioning toward Tag’s big ass setup he has on his pool patio.

I should hang out at my beach home more often, but I love my suburb house during the off season. Even though it never really gets cold here, the wind at night this time of year is pretty chilly. All of these girls will be regretting their clothing soon.

Ingrid frowns as Wren offers Brin his arm. What is he? Eighty?

“Need a drink?” he asks her.

“A beer would be nice.”

She grins up at him, fooling him with that sweet smile that masks the devil’s wicked grin underneath. She could fool the CIA, but she can’t fool me.

“You know her?” Ingrid asks as she returns with a glass of some fruity concoction.

“Yeah,” I mutter vaguely, not enjoying the way Wren is resting his arm around her waist. He doesn’t know her well enough for that. He might pull back a nub if he accidentally crosses some arbitrary line the way I did.

I’m not sure he can handle her.

“You going to stare at the girl wearing shorts all night?” Ingrid asks, sounding a little annoyed.

I suppose I’d be offended if she was staring at a guy while on a date with me, but she’s taking this out of context.

“Would you rather I gave you all my attention?” I ask, giving her my most charming smile, which she quickly dissolves under.

Predictable.

Her grin splits her face as she takes a sexy-strutted step toward me and puts her hands on my chest, running her fingers down to the tops of my abs.

“Yes. I would,” she says, trying to sound as provocative as one can.

“Rye,” Tag calls, looking over his shoulder as he mans the bar in the absence of his bartender.

“Yeah,” I say, walking away from my ready-to-please date.

“Grab the salt, and come do shots with us. It’s in the kitchen. Top right cabinet.”

What am I? The fetch-it bitch?

“Sure,” I mumble, feeling a little distracted when a small, reserved giggle comes out of Brin.

That’s not her laugh. Her laugh is either maniacal or carefree. That’s the most forced laugh I’ve ever heard.

Why the fuck do I care?

Wren’s a good guy. She’ll be fine. It’s not my damn place to worry about whether or not she’s fine.

I make my way inside the house and roll my eyes. Tag’s directions suck. There are at least ten
top right cabinets.
Dick. It’s not like I’ve never been in his kitchen before, but I’ve never had any reason to dig through his damn cabinets.

After opening and closing several, I finally find the one that hosts the salt, but something else catches my eye. Red food coloring.

Reflexively, my eyes dart to the French doors and land on Brin. I could so get her with that dark beer and this red food coloring.

Ah, hell. I can’t. We called a truce for the day.

Sulking, I start to close the cabinet, but then I swipe both bottles of red food coloring instead. I’ll just play with Ingrid. One person is just as good as another and this opportunity is too good to pass up.

As soon as I make it outside, Ingrid is waiting and I’m handing Tag the salt.

“Can I do shots with you?” she purrs, back to being all over me.

I grin as I take her red, fruity drink. Perfect. “Sure. You do the first one.”

She giggles like a fool hands me her drink. When she looks away, I pour a whole tube of the stuff in what little bit of drink she has left. The red blends in with the differently shaded red drink—enough to pass a drunk girl’s inspection.

She chugs the shot, and I happily hand her back her drink to chase the tequila with. She takes large sips, finishing it off, and I grin in anticipation.

“Was the shot good?” I ask, reaching for one of my own.

When she smiles, I can’t help but burst out laughing. Her teeth, tongue, lips... her whole damn mouth is blood red. Girl could pass for a freshly fed vampire right now.

“What?” she asks, but I can’t speak because I’m laughing too hard.

I look around for Brin, hoping she sees it too, but she’s down on the beach with Wren. Really? She’s missing the fun stuff.

When my laughter continues to be belted out, Ingrid turns and looks at Tag who leans back, cringing.

“Damn, girl,” Tag says, just as Dane sees her and chokes on his shot, laughing as soon as he coughs his drink down.

She jerks her head toward the windows of the house, and a shrill scream of horror escapes her before she starts spitting the red out—well, trying to spit it out. Damn, this shit is awesome.

She’s almost crying, so to relieve her panic, I manage to form words. “Relax,” I say through my laughter. “It’s just food dye.”

Her eyes widen as she looks up, a long, red spit string still clinging to her lips. That’s gross.

“You did this?” she almost yells.

Yes. A little fun is about to begin.

I just nod, proud of my little prank. Her face turns a furious red that rivals the stains in her mouth, and she twirls around angrily to stomp out.

That’s no fun.

“Way to lose a date,” Dane chuckles, acknowledging me without any hint of distaste.

At least he’s warming up.

Hmmm. Ingrid’s reaction was not the result I expected. In fact, that’s the opposite of what I wanted. I think I’ve laughed more in the past few days than I ever have in my life. I really should have started doing this sooner.

“I wish Brin hadn’t made me call a temporary truce,” I grumble, now feeling bored as Wren and she slowly make their way back toward us.

“You can hold off on torturing her for one more day,” Tag snickers.

It’s Saturday. I had a lot of shit planned for our war.

“They won’t work,” I say mildly, tossing back a shot of my own before gesturing toward the beach.

“Why?” Tag asks, sipping his beer now.

“Wren and Brin? How dorky is it to have rhyming names?” I ask incredulously.

I thought that would be obvious.

Dane growls for some weird reason, and Tag turns his head to snicker. Oh. Shit. Rain and Dane. Oops.

“My bad,” I mutter as Dane walks off.

And we were just starting to make progress. Oh well.

Brin and Wren walk up the steps together, and I notice her beer is low. It’s just low enough for this little bottle of red to do some damage.

I glance down, weighing my options, and shrug. Fuck it.

***

BRIN

Wren is sweet, but he seems so distracted. I feel like I’m boring him to death, and every time I think he’s telling a joke, I try to laugh. But I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. I haven’t tried dating since high school.

This was so stupid.

“You need a shot,” Rye says from behind me, grinning while giving me a wink.

He’s embarrassing the hell out of me right now. Knowing he’s told everyone here about our war—mostly Wren—is mortifying. Wren probably thinks I’m a two-year-old.

Though liquor is the enemy, a shot would be perfect right now.

“Thanks,” I murmur with a tight smile, growing more nervous by the second.

Wren is texting someone. Again. That’s what he’s done for most of the time we’ve been out here. The walk on the beach consisted of him texting, or cursing under his breath, or apologizing for ignoring me.

I’ve never felt so uncomfortable.

Rye takes my beer as I absently grab a lime wedge and stare at the shot, trying to gather courage. Then I chug it down, suck on the lime, and reach for my beer. He hands it to me promptly while grinning. I’m sure my face is screwed up in disgust. That was nowhere nearly as good as the shots at Silk.

“Thanks,” I say, sucking in a breath as I finish drinking the rest of my beer, and Rye covers his mouth with his hand as he shakes with suppressed laughter.

Surely my face wasn’t that distorted.

When I turn back to Wren, he’s putting his phone away and apologizing for the hundredth time tonight.

“It’s fine,” I say with my same, fake smile, but his eyes widen in horror as he stares at my mouth.

“What the hell?” he asks through a strangled cough.

I frown, and then wipe my mouth. When red appears on my fingertips, I gasp, worried about where the hell I might be bleeding from. But when I hear the roaring laughter coming from my asshole neighbor, I realize that dick is behind this.

“We called a truce!” I screech, which only clues Wren in, and he joins in on the laughter.

Rye stumbles backwards when I dive for him, and he narrowly dodges my foot that is aimed at his crotch. Bastard!

“So much better,” he says through his snickering, even though that makes no sense to me.

I chase him around the pool, fighting back my grin when he grabs Ash and uses her as a barrier between us.

“Oh hell no!” she says, even though her smile is growing. “I so don’t want in the middle of you two.”

I glare at him, trying to grab at him, but he keeps the brunette beauty between us, even as she tries uselessly to escape.

“Tag,” she calls playfully, “help! I’m going to end up with food or alcohol all over me.”

He just laughs while shaking his head, and Rye continues to chuckle as he keeps himself shielded.

“Sorry to break up the fun,” Wren says with a sad smile, drawing my attention, “but I need to be going. There’s something I have to deal with right now.”

Crap. I’m busy chasing Rye and acting like a kid. I’ve probably just ruined all my chances with Wren. Not that it matters. I wasn’t all that into him anyhow.

“It was nice to meet you, Brin,” he says so cordially, making all of this seem suddenly... boring.

We’re supposed to have another date tomorrow. An actual date where we go out to eat. Now... I feel like he’s changing his mind. I wish he’d just tell me now and get it over with.

“You have my number,” I say while tucking my hands into the tops of my pockets, a nervous reaction.

“I’ll call you. Have fun. Don’t let Rye drive you crazy.” He winks at Rye and then he hugs Ash before walking out.

Rye walks out from behind Ash and heads over to me, dropping his long arm across my shoulders as though he didn’t just... Ah, hell. I’ve been standing here talking to everyone with a damn vampire’s mouth.

I hate him.

I glare at his hand as it comes to rest just off my body, hanging casually as he guides me over to a table.

“Guess it’s just us now,” he says as we make our way to some seats.

“What happened to your date? Too charming for her?” I muse, trying to sound annoyed instead of nosy.

“No,” he says, laughing. “She didn’t deal too well with the bloody mouth bit.”

I can’t help but laugh. I bet the beauty queen flipped the hell out if he did that to her. I just want massive payback. And I will have it. When he least suspects it.

We sit at the far back and just watch all the happy couples, and the Sterling men who have brought equally designer women. Why the hell did I think shorts and a tank top would be okay? Oh yeah, because it’s a barbeque!