3. Chapter One

Chapter One

Devon

Eighteen years old…

I slap Summer’s arm playfully.

“More!” I shout, though my voice hardly carries over the loud music and laughing people.

She grins and adds more tequila to my cup, then to hers.

Pretty sure if bartenders were caught making tequila sunrises this way, they’d be fired. Good thing we aren’t bartenders.

“Hey, does the amount of tequila to OJ and this red stuff make the drink, or is it just the ingredients?” Summer asks thoughtfully as she puts the cap on the bottle of Jose.

I shrug and take a sip. Don’t have a clue about mixing drinks officially.

The liquid burns going down. Yeah, that’s a lot of tequila.

“I don’t care what this is called, it’s wonderful,” I say with a smile and take a mouthful.

“Hey, isn’t that Tatum?” Summer says, leaning close to me. “I thought they weren’t coming tonight. ”

I pause, looking at where my best friend is pointing across the room. The last person I want to see is Tatum—now, and for the rest of my life.

With the cup to my lips, I freeze when I see Tatum Winters—staring directly at me. Even through the hundreds of people crowding this house, he finds me . It’s funny; for someone who ignores me so well, he sure always knows what I’m up to.

“Damnit,” I mutter against my cup before grabbing Summer’s arm and pulling her in the opposite direction of him. We stop in the other room, which is even more packed than the kitchen was, as I try to decide where we can hide. “He didn’t see me, did he?”

I don’t know why I ask. Of course he saw me. We made eye contact! He isn’t blind. Those stupid chocolate eyes of his see everything. Especially when it has to do with me. Which makes no sense. He breaks up with me but won’t leave me the hell alone. Except, he won’t talk to me. Not unless he’s telling me what to do.

“He was staring right at you,” Summer says with a roll of her eyes.

“He can’t see me, Summer!” I complain, taking another sip. If he catches me with a drink in my hand, he’ll not only get pissed, he’ll take it. Meaning, I need to finish it quickly. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You should have done better digging before coming then, Dev,” she complains, dragging her coffin nails through her blond hair.

She scans the room, settling on something in the far back and her eyes widen, a grin forming on her lips. She grabs my arm and tugs me through the crowd. You’d think it would be easy to get lost in all the people that are here, but I swear Tatum would find me if I were a needle in a haystack. He has laser eyes just for me—he likes to make my life hell because he’s the devil.

Summer and I stop by a group of big guys. I recognize them from school. Though they all look a little blurry tonight, thanks to the tequila.

“Football players?” I say, nudging Summer with my elbow. She winks at me.

Summer and I have been best friends since the first day of high school. She moved to Michigan from California and hated the idea of it until I showed her it wasn’t too bad. California suits her better, but she’s happy here now. I’m not sure she’ll ever leave—unless she gets swooped away by Austin Butler, who is her ultimate crush.

It’ll never happen, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

I’m not much of an Austin fan myself, but at least she and I can agree that sports players are sexy. Especially the football players who are all big, muscled, and look like they’d tackle us into a good time. Oh, and don’t get me started on those rugby players and their juicy asses! I love a juicy ass.

“Hi, boys,” Summer says in her sweetest voice.

The five of them smile down at us. They don’t look like eighteen-year-olds who just graduated high school—they’re huge.

“We need a favor.” Summer bats her lashes at them, as if they wouldn’t grovel at her feet for just a smile. Summer is breathtakingly gorgeous. Men of all ages stop and stare, which is creepy considering she only turned eighteen a few months ago. Problem is, she doesn’t look it. She could easily pass for being in her early twenties, and guys don’t care to ask before they hit on her. Which is disgusting in itself.

“It’s going to cost you,” Thomas says with a smirk.

Summer grins. “Anything you want, Tommy.”

I roll my eyes at their annoying need to flirt. They’ve been fuck buddies for as long as I can remember. Him, and three other guys on the team that don’t seem to care they’re all fucking the same girl. Summer likes to have fun in the form of sex and isn’t afraid to admit it.

“Devon is trying to hide from someone,” Summer adds, sidling up to Tommy’s side. He puts his arm around her.

“Yeah, I think we can help with that,” Marcus says with a smile. He steps closer to me and puts his arm around my waist. I giggle and take another sip, knowing I’m hidden behind his giant wall of a body. The rest of the guys shift into more of a circle, so Summer and I are in the middle. I work on my drink, swaying to the music that’s bumping all around us. I love a good party. The drinking, the music, the energy. Everything about it is—

“Hands off,” someone growls.

My spine goes stiff at the sound of that voice. Even through all the noise in here, that voice cuts me like a thousand knives.

Marcus, who is still touching me, slowly turns to face Tate.

“Excuse me?” Marcus says cockily.

Damnit. Summer raises a brow at me, but instead of telling her what’s going on, I turn to face Tate too.

“Go away, Tatum,” I say, giving him a shove while stepping out of Marcus’s grip. Staying there will only piss off Tatum more. Because even though he dumped me, he still thinks he owns me. He just likes to blame it on being my brother’s best friend now.

He gives me one of his devilishly gorgeous smiles that has my knees weak. I’d fall for it if I didn’t know his tricks. He uses that smile to get what he wants, and I so badly want to fall into his arms again but fuck him. Tate is an asshole.

We’d been best friends since kindergarten, and we started dating after years of tension between us. Then after only a few months together, he breaks up with me for no reason at all. I never even got an explanation. He likes to tell me I know what I did wrong, but I didn’t do a damn thing to him.

“Does your brother know you’re here?” Tate asks.

“Yes,” I say way too quickly.

No, Dane does not know I’m here.

I told him I wasn’t coming to the party so he wouldn’t have to worry about hunting me down to kick me out, to which he responded he wasn’t coming either. That’s why I’m here. I figured I could get away with it since he would not be here. But if Tate’s here, Dane is here. They don’t do anything without the other.

Used to be that way with me too. We were the perfect little triangle, doing everything together, all the time.

But—shit!

If Tate is here, Dane is here.

Why haven’t I been looking around for Dane?

Damn alcohol.

I take another sip of my drink and point at Tatum; the tequila giving me balls. Maybe it helps that I have five of our school’s best football players backing me up. Something that won’t hold weight much longer, considering we’ve just graduated.

“Go away!”

He raises a brow at me, seeming shocked. He shouldn’t be. Telling him off is something I do multiple times a day. Just not usually in front of so many people. At this point, when I’m caught at parties, I run away with my tail between my legs. Okay, maybe it’s more like lying down belly up and letting them drag me away.

It’s been going on for years and I’ve learned they go easier on me when I listen. Well, I’m done listening. This is the first party I’ve gone to since Tate broke up with me, and I want to enjoy myself.

“She said go away, Winters,” Marcus says, putting his arm around me again.

Well, that’s only going to piss Tate off more, but I don’t push Marcus away. I want to see Tate mad.

The rest of the guys take up space behind us, as if they’re all willing to fight for me. They’d kick Tate’s ass no doubt, but he’d get revenge another way. They’re much bigger than him, plus there are five of them and only one of him. It’s not that Tate is small—he isn’t. He’s tall and toned, but they’re football players and Tate has never touched a ball that isn’t his own. Maybe my brother’s. Who the hell knows?

Tate steps toward us, getting eye to eye with Marcus. Without saying a word, he grips my arm and yanks me away.

“I’d mind your own fucking business if I were you, Samuelson,” Tate seethes.

He storms away, tugging me after him .

“Devon!” Summer calls. I look at her over my shoulder and wave her off, letting her know I’m fine. There’s no point in fighting this. I won’t win. I don’t want a brawl to break out over me being a brat. Yeah, I like the idea of the football players sticking up for me, but I don’t really want them to hurt Tatum. What I want is for Tatum to leave me alone.

There’s always a risk of getting caught at parties. Summer and I have been doing this dance with my brother and Tate for years. There’s only been a handful of parties we haven’t been caught at. That’s what happens when you have an overprotective twin brother who is up our overprotective father’s ass.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother to death. I just wish he would back off a little. I’m not a child and I hate that he treats me like one. I’m not as fragile as he thinks, and I’m certainly not as stupid.

When Tate gets me into the kitchen, I get a wonderful idea.

Could be the alcohol. Could be my creative juices flowing. Either way, it’s the best idea I’ve ever had.

Tate is going to get a taste of his own medicine… sort of.

I look at the drink in my hand, biting on my lip to hide the smile. There isn’t much left, maybe a mouthful or two, but it’s enough.

“Hey, Tate,” I shout, yanking my arm from him. I don’t get free fully, but his hand slides from my upper arm to my wrist. When he whirls to glare at me, I toss my drink right in his face.

He lets me go, hissing and jerking away, causing him to bump into a group of guys behind him. A bunch of people look our way. Some gasp, watching with scared looks. Others raise their brows. A few laugh. Everyone from school knows Tatum isn’t someone you fuck with. He won’t corner you and beat you up like some bullies do. No, he’d make sure you fail classes or get kicked off whatever sports team you’re on. Tatum doesn’t like to use his fists to get even; he uses everything else he has in his arsenal. Like his money and his name. The Winters are a big deal around here. His father is the first man from Willowdale under thirty-five to become a millionaire on his own.

Most people who live here come from money from businesses that are passed down from generation to generation. But not the Winters. Tate’s father worked his butt off to make a name for himself… and he ruined it in half the time. Many people don’t know that part of it, but that’s because they don’t know the Winters like I do.

Tatum’s nostrils flare as he glares at me, liquid dripping down his face. If looks could kill, I’d be dead.

I smile sweetly, then turn on my heel and run through the crowd back to Summer and the football players.

I grab my best friend’s arm and tug her after me.

“Time to go,” I say with a laugh.

“But I don’t want to!” she whines, looking back at the guys who are watching us with frowns.

Still, I pull her after me until we’re outside in the front yard. The sun is down, but the warm summer air lingers. There are a few groups of people out here, but mostly everyone is inside.

“What did you do?” she says, looking back at the door. “How did you get away? Why are we running? You know I hate running.”

Summer hates any form of physical activity that doesn’t include a dick .

“Threw a drink in his face,” I say as we move to the sidewalk.

She gasps. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, I did.”

“What a waste of tequila.” She finishes what’s in her cup and tosses it over her shoulder onto the lawn with the others.

We link our arms together and walk down the street, away from the party.

“So, what now?” she asks with a sigh. “Since you ruined my chance of sleeping with Tommy.”

“Oh, please. As if that could happen.” She frowns and I add, “Tell him to come pick us up.”

Her eyes flood with excitement. “Really?”

“Why not? We can find somewhere else to go. Somewhere my brother and his keeper aren’t.”

“I can’t believe you threw a drink at Tatum Winters,” she says as she pulls her phone from her pocket. “Whatever, though. He deserves it. He’s an asshole.”

“I’m tired of him thinking he can control me, especially after he broke up with me.”

My phone rings and when I pull it from my pocket, I see it’s my brother. Great. Tatum already ratted me out. I silence it. He calls again, so I shut the ringer off.

“I hate having a brother,” I mutter as Summer stares at her phone.

“They’ll pick us up two blocks down.” She points ahead and we walk faster.

Tommy, Marcus, and Troy are waiting for us in a white Honda that’s parked by a fire hydrant. Summer hops in the front with Tommy, who is driving, and I squish in the back between the other guys. Troy nudges me with his elbow and smiles. Marcus throws his arm around my shoulder.

I don’t like him like that, but I’m an affectionate person. I’m fine with touch, and this isn’t bothering me.

“You good?” he asks.

“I’m great,” I say with a smile.

Tommy pulls off. I have no idea where we’re going, but I don’t care. I want to celebrate graduating just like everyone else. Why shouldn’t I be able to do that?

“So, where—”

My words are cut off when the car screeches to a stop. I lurch forward, causing the seatbelt to engage and tighten around me.

“You alright?” Marcus asks.

“Fine. What hap—”

There is a car stopped in the middle of the intersection in front of us. A car I’d recognize from anywhere—black Camaro with pink rims. The car Tate takes to parties.

“Oh, hell no!” I shout, slamming my hands on the seats in front of me.

Summer turns to me with a frown, knowing exactly what I do.

They’ve come for me.

“Well, it was nice knowing you all,” I say with a sigh, climbing over Marcus to reach for the door.

“You don’t have to go with them,” Marcus says, holding his arm up to stop me from leaving.

“Oh, but I do.”

“You’re eighteen.”

“Means nothing in the Kensington household. ”

He scoffs, clearly annoyed for me. Or maybe at me because he thought he would get laid. I have no idea. But he puts his arm down and I hop out of the car.

My brother storms toward me and shouts, “What the fuck, Devon? Tate said you were about to do coke with these guys?”

He did what?!

Tate is standing right beside my brother, and I scowl at him.

“Are you kidding me?” I growl. “You’re an asshole!” I shove him hard, though he barely moves. I look at Dane. “I was not going to do drugs, Dane. Not even close.”

“You said you weren’t coming to this party,” he argues. “So, you already lied about something.”

“You’re joking!”

His look tells me he’s completely serious.

My brother and I, though we’re twins, look nothing alike. At least, I don’t think so. Nothing outside of our honey brown hair and bright green eyes.

“Devon…”

I only notice the car is still here when I hear Summer’s voice.

“I’m good, Summer. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say harshly. She’s only trying to help, but I’m too mad to be nice.

She nods and a moment later, they back up until they pull into a driveway to turn around.

“Had I known you were coming, I would have watched out for you,” Dane says, his tone softening.

“I don’t need you babysitting me!” I shout.

I don’t call out the fact he’s lying, because that’s pointless. There is no way Dane would willingly let me go to a party. He hasn’t done that since Tate and I were dating. Even then, I could tell he didn’t want me there. But of course, he let it slide for precious Tate.

“Clearly, I do. You were taking off with a bunch of dumb jocks.” He gestures down the road.

“You don’t even know them,” I argue.

Dane shakes his head, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Just get in the car so we can go home,” he says, this time sounding disappointed.

Knowing I have no other option, I stomp my foot as I let out a frustrated growl. And as I walk by, I glare at Tatum, who is smirking ever so slightly.

“You’re going to regret this,” I hiss at him.

His grin only grows.