Page 20 of The Triple Play

Xavi was out and the door slammed before Cole could finish his sentence. He dragged a hand down his face in exasperation before pushing his own door open, Colton following suit in front of me.

Colton was the closest — he got to my door before the rest of them could even try, and try they did. By the time my door was swinging open, Cole was rounding the front of the car and Xavi was coming up the rear, all three of them somehow surrounding me again like flies to cake. But I didn’tfeellike cake.

“Uh, thank you,” I said confusedly, taking his outstretched hand and practically jumping down from the car, catching myself with his grip on me before I could tumble over.

The four of us walked toward the house in relative silence, the sea of bodies evident through the windows. Jerseys wereeverywhere, a sea of gold and blue.

A drink was thrust into each of our hands the moment we stepped over the threshold.I stared down at mine, not trusting it in the slightest. I didn’t know how secure these kinds of parties were, but even on the off chance they were considered safe, I didn’t want to drink it.

Colton must have noticed.

“I’ll get you something better,” he said over the music, plucking the red solo cup out of my hand and immediately setting it on the nearest surface available. “Follow me. I’ll find the kitchen.”

I blinked up at him as he started to split from the group, my gaze lingering on Xavi and Cole, but they were already engaged in conversation with someone I didn’t recognize.They’ll be fine.

I followed Colton through the sea of bodies, the music so loud I could barely make out words being said around me. There weresomany girls here, some younger than me and some older, but most of them had one thing in common — they repped the team, either with a fitted jersey or team colors. I almost felt out of place in Xavi’s plain black hoodie and my casual get-up.

Gripping onto the back of Colton’s jacket, I watched scenes play out around me as if I were walking through a goddamn movie. Men so drunk they were pouring beer over their heads, almost every corner a dedicated heavy-petting zone, the sounds of something breaking somewhere behind us and no one batting an eye. It was chaos, but it was fun, and I hadn’t been to a party this crazy in years — not since college.

We rounded a corner into what was definitely meant to be a kitchen but had been converted into a do-it-yourself-style bar. Bottles upon bottles of alcohol lined the island, some expensive and some cheap, with multiple kegs stacked around the walkways ripe for the picking.

“What do you want to drink?” Colton asked, spinning on a dime and walking backward to keep his eyes locked on me. Stray strands of straight, black hair hung around his cheeks as he grinned at me, that stupid little ponytail catching on his shoulder. “Or should I let you make it since you’re so much better at it?”

I shook my head, laughing at his jab. “Nah, you can make it. Rum and coke would be great.”

Colton chuckled and picked out a bottle of Captain Morgan’s and poured more than the usual careful two fingers worth. He reached for the coke next, cracking open a new one and waiting for it to hiss. “You’re not one of those people who just like a splash of soda in their alcohol, are you?”

“I’m more of a splash-of-alcohol-in-my-soda type of girl.”

His grin turned wicked as he glanced at me, pouring the coke into the cup with careful precision to keep it from foaming over. “So you’re a lightweight. Good to know. Maybe drink thisreallyslowly.”

Heat rose in my cheeks as I pushed my lips together, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break across my cheeks. “That’s not what I?—”

“Should I just go ahead and find a sippy cup for you instead?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, reaching for the cup just as he finished pouring, but he lifted it out of reach with far too much ease. I reached up fully on my tiptoes, the cup still almost a full foot away, huffing my slight annoyance at his echoing laughter.

“Jesus,” I groaned, dropping my arms and putting my heels back on the ground. “Why are you sotall? It’s not fair.”

“Genes, and protein shakes,” he said, shrugging as he kept the cup high in the air, his grin infectious. “Not my fault you turned out so short, sweetheart.”

I crossed my arms, trying to dull the smile that was barely hidden at this point. “Are you done bullying me?”

He laughed again, the sound cutting through the music as he finally lowered his arm, handing me the drink. His fingers brushed against mine as I took it, and I swallowed, not exactly hating the way his calloused digits felt against my skin. “For now,” he said, winking at me.

“You ass,” I muttered.

I barely got the cup to my lips before the scent of rum hit me — rich, heavy, anddefinitelynot proportioned correctly. I swallowed it down fast, fighting my own throat to do so and pressing my tongue against the roof of my mouth to keep from grimacing. I looked up at Colton’s waiting expression, his brows raised as if I were about to praise him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

His dimple deepened, his blue eyes twinkling with far too much amusement for my liking. “What, too strong for little ol’ Annie?”

I laughed then, truly and fully, for what might have been the first time this evening.

He snorted, and behind us, a familiar set of voices filtered in. I looked over my shoulder, watching as Cole and Xavi walked into the kitchen with someone I hadn’t met before, but he looked vaguely familiar. All short-cropped dark brown hair with a sprayed-on blue streak and an easy, lopsided grin on his face, two lines of blue on each of his cheeks.

Cole looked every bit of unenthusiastic about the party as he had since we’d gotten in the car, and he motioned lazily in my direction and back at the kid. “Annie, this is Samson. Samson, Annie.”

“Ah, soyou’rewho these two were talking about,” he said, a hint of a french-canadian accent like Xavi’s slipping through.

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