18. East

EIGHTEEN

east

THE ENTIRE CREW had gathered in Daire and Gavin's condo Wednesday night, and it wasn't until I saw the way every available surface was taken up by one of them or their significant others that I realized how big our group had gotten.

West commandeered one of the loveseats with JT pulled onto his lap the way he liked it. Donovan sat on the corner of the kitchen island with Kelly standing between his thighs, the both of them picking through the spread of snacks laid out and chatting with Preston, who was Archer-less for the night. Daire grumbled in his armchair that the massive bruise on his shin from MMA practice didn't need attention, while Gavin swatted his hands away and told him he was "putting ice on it whether you like it or not, so stop bitching."

And then there was Travis and Caleb, taking up opposite ends of the couch, Travis's feet in Caleb's lap, tossing grapes at each other to catch with their mouths like morons. Utter freakin' morons.

I'd never felt like such an outsider in my entire life.

This is bullshit.

I let out a loud sigh. "Is there a reason I'm forced to be here for this suck-face party, or can I get on with more interesting plans?"

A grape hit the side of my face, and I turned and narrowed my eyes on the thrower. Caleb.

He smiled. "No one's forcing you to be here, so maybe you should leave. I'm sure there's a group of wannabes just dying for someone to boss them around."

"I've already met my quota on dealing with idiots for today, but I'll make an exception for you. Why don't you fetch me a martini?"

"Only if you promise to drown in it," he retorted.

"And give you the satisfaction? Not likely."

"Guys, guys," Gavin said, moving to block our views of each other. "Knock it off. I'm the one who invited you, all of you, because I knew Van wouldn't do it."

Donovan's head shot up. "Do what?"

Gavin grinned, his smile as bright as his platinum hair, and then turned on the TV. "Something not even you've seen yet, big brother. Everyone, direct your eyes to the screen."

"Oh shit, are we getting another Van and Kelly porn flick?" Travis scooted to the edge of the couch, forgetting all about the flying grapes—and his boyfriend's big mouth.

"That would be a fuck no ," Donovan said as he slid down from the counter. "You shouldn't have gotten to see any in the first place."

"It's not my fault you and the monster cock over there couldn't keep it in your pants." Travis shrugged and scooted closer to Caleb. "Besides, Caleb wasn't here for the viewing?—"

Caleb slapped a hand over his mouth. "And I'm totally fine with that. I'd rather not see my friends getting it on."

" Now they're your friends?" I scoffed. "After you dismissed all of us for years like some do-gooder ass?—"

" Shut up! " Gavin shouted, a sound I'd never actually heard come out of him before, and it was so surprising that everyone went dead silent. Except Daire. He chuckled to himself like he was proud of the effect he'd had on his boyfriend.

"And you all call me the bad influence," I said.

Gavin pointed at me. "East, I swear if you don't keep your trap closed, I'll have Travis bust out his design kit and sew your mouth shut with a dull needle."

"Kinky." I took a seat on the arm of the couch, mimicked zipping my lips, and waited not so patiently for Gavin to pull up whatever this little presentation was. If it was another Van and Kelly sex special, I couldn't say I'd be disappointed. Those two were a special breed of hot.

An image popped up on the screen that warned anyone off from sharing, and Gavin paused the video. "Check this out. See if you notice any familiar faces." He hit play, and the video transitioned into an image of the five joined Olympic rings.

"No way. Gav, how'd you get this?" Donovan said as he and Kelly both made their way into the living room. Clips of athletes from prior summer games flashed up on the screen, one after the other, each displaying different designs for their uniforms.

Gavin snorted. "Are you kidding? Dad has to approve everything for the network, remember, and that includes uniforms."

"And he just gave it to you?"

"Well, no… I might've accidentally seen it when I used his computer the other day."

"Damn, you really are turning delinquent, young Truitt," I said, slow-clapping in approval. Stealing content from his head of cable TV father? Maybe it was my influence on him, not Daire's.

"Holy shit," Preston said, and I looked up to see Donovan and Kelly in the skimpiest red, white, and blue briefs I'd ever seen. Actually, Kelly was spilling out of his and had to turn away from the room full of people they were trying them on for.

"Which fucking sport is that one for?" Travis asked, wide-eyed.

"Diving," Kelly said, his huge arms crossed over his chest as he watched the flurry of designers trying to find a way to support him.

"Let's just say they weren't considering the size of his dick when they chose us to model the uniforms," Donovan said. "I think he, uh, took them by surprise."

"What the hell did they think they were getting?" West nodded at Kelly. "He's six-three and built like a brick shithouse."

"These are for athletes, dumbass," Daire finally spoke up. "You think they're gonna pick a skinny cokehead to model this shit?"

West shrugged, acknowledging his point, but the second he took a sip of his drink, Donovan and Kelly were back on the screen and he choked on a swallow. "Fuckin' hell," he said, continuing to cough, his eyes wide on the track-and-field uniforms our friends sported.

Donovan fit his outfit perfectly, his long, leanly muscled body looking every bit like that of a track star, but Kelly… Those spandex onesies were losing the battle against his bulge.

"Good God, man." Caleb cursed under his breath before adding, "Are you trying to make everyone else look bad?"

"You should've seen it without anything restraining him," Travis said.

Someone trumpeted like an elephant, sending the room into howls of laughter that only got louder when they modeled the next ensemble—the men's gymnastic onesie.

JT peeked through spread fingers like he couldn't bear to watch. "How is it possible it's just getting worse?"

"Beg to differ," Travis said. "The outfits are heinous, sure, but that fit…" He kissed his fingertips and winked at Kelly. "Nicely done, man.

"And you look great too, Van," added Caleb, the suck-up.

Donovan only grinned at Kelly as he squeezed his boyfriend's ass. The moony-eyed look he was giving him forced my eyes back on the screen.

"Hate to say it, but I don't think they'll be airing you in prime time, Kelly. Actually…" I cocked my head to the side. "Maybe they'll work you in from the back."

"Hey, I looked damn good in the jackets," he protested.

Gavin skipped through the rest of the video, stopping on each new uniform and skipping through the designer's commentary. When it came to an end, he turned it off and said, "So? What do you think? Amazing they got chosen for that, right?"

"I don't know." Preston scratched his jaw as he moved in beside Donovan and Kelly. "No disrespect to the clothes, but I think I prefer you both naked."

My jaw became practically unhinged as it fell to the floor at our not-so-straight-anymore friend's words. Never in a million years did I ever think Preston had it in him, not until he proved us all wrong by dating a much older man we'd all drooled over one time or another. I was about to express my surprise until he elbowed Donovan, and they both laughed at what he said like it was a joke.

"Actually, we're flying to L.A. early next week so Van can do reshoots with a different guy," Kelly said to a chorus of boos.

I shot to my feet. "Hold on, next week?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Uh, have you all forgotten we're coming up on spring break?"

Kelly frowned. "Well, yeah, that's why we can go. So Van doesn't have to miss any school days."

"What about our trip?"

"What trip?"

Oh hell no. I fixed my gaze on Donovan. "Forget to tell your boyfriend about our yearly getaway?"

"No, but I don't have control over when the freakin' Olympic committee schedules their dates, East," Donovan said. "But don't worry, we'll still do something huge for graduation."

Even though I was annoyed, the thought of a massive blowout during the summer appeased me a little, and I nodded. "Fine. But since the rest of us are all here, we should finalize plans to leave this weekend. Now does anyone have a bright idea where to go, or should we just close our eyes and point to somewhere on a map?"

When the room went dead silent—suspiciously silent—I arched a brow.

"What, you need help finding a map? Just pull one up on the screen." I gestured toward the TV, which was still paired to Gavin's phone. "Gav, you do it."

He blinked at me then looked over his shoulder at Daire and bit his lip. "Uh, actually, we'll be in Florida all week. D's got a big match on Wednesday, so we leave Friday. But all of you can come if you want?—"

"To Florida ? Where every other spring breaker goes to get shitfaced and stupid?" I wrinkled my nose. "How pedestrian. No thanks. Next."

"We didn't know you had a match coming up, or we wouldn't have made plans," West told Daire.

I whirled in his direction. "And just where do you think you're going?"

West trailed his fingers up and down JT's thigh and smiled down at him. "JT's family asked if I'd join them in the Hamptons during the break, and we thought it'd be a good idea."

I sputtered out a laugh, and he shot me a glare.

He was joking. Right? Because the West I knew would rather run naked through Times Square than spend spring break—especially his senior spring break—with the dean of Astor's family on a beach a couple hours away.

"That's hilarious," I said. "Where are you really going?"

"I just told you."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to suss him out. "Bullshit."

"It's true. Dean Hawthorne asked me herself."

What the actual fuck .

"Oh my God." Something that sounded a lot like a growl escaped my throat, and I scrubbed a hand over my face roughly. "You're killin' me. You do know you can go to the Hamptons anytime? Literally. Any. Time."

"Sorry, man," West said, not looking as apologetic as he should. "Compromise, you know."

No other word had ever sounded worse in my entire life.

While I tried not to gag on it, Travis let out a low whistle. "Wow, look at West learning the meaning of the word ‘compromise.' Is it freaking anyone else out?"

West flipped him off, but Travis only grinned before turning his attention my way. "And before you ask, Caleb and I are going to an undisclosed location that's none of your damn business, so you'll have to manage without us too."

Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.

Slowly, I turned toward Preston, the last man standing. "And you? It's not like Archer gets spring break, so you're good to go, right?"

Preston at least had the sense to look sheepish, unlike the other fuckers. "Sorry, East, he's taking me to Saint-Tropez for the week, since pilot season's winding down. I would've told you, but he just surprised me with it."

My temper flared as I looked at each one of my so-called friends. All those couples, all that lovey-dovey bullshit. I just assumed all the last-minute indecisiveness on their part came down to wanting me to make an executive decision, but they'd all gone and made plans on their own.

"Wow. I see how it is."

"What's the big deal?" West, of all people, asked. "You can just hop on the family jet and go anywhere you want. Hell, you'll probably prefer it."

Ordinarily, he'd be right. But right now, no, actually, I couldn't just take the jet to a destination unknown. My father had decided to refurbish the damn thing and said it would be out of commission for weeks.

But the guys didn't need to know that. It wasn't like I didn't have a million connections once I decided where I wanted to go, so if they wanted to have pathetic spring breaks, then that was their own damn fault. Fuck being annoyed over their little romantic getaways. Whatever I did would be a million times more entertaining, and it wouldn't include being tied down to one person and one cock.

"Fine," I said, brushing a piece of lint off my sweater. "Be lame-asses. What do I care?"

"Come on, don't be like that," West said, starting in my direction. "Why don't you come with us?" Behind him, JT's eyes bugged out of his head.

Ha. Now if I really wanted to drive Golden Boy crazy, I'd tag along and make his trip miserable. Not to mention Dean Hawthorne hated me. It was tempting to take him up on it, just to be petty and because I could.

But then out of nowhere, Zac's face popped into my mind through all the chaos and disappointment, and suddenly I had a better option.

I gave West a tight smile and patted him on the cheek. "I don't need your pity invite, Weston. You two have a lovely time. Enjoy getting crabs."

He started to protest behind me, but I was over hearing all the excuses he or any of the guys had.

A few strong martinis somewhere with loud music and eye candy was all I needed to cleanse myself of the soul-sucking love vibes I'd been suffocating around for the last hour, and I wasn't wasting another godforsaken minute getting the hell out.