Page 39 of Love at Second Down

“Forget what I said,” I growl, shoving my cup into his chest. “That was all bullshit. Now are you going to help a brother out, or what?”

Brandon takes a step back, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Now I don’t know if I should.”

As if I’m telepathic, West comes out of nowhere, looking bored as hell. “What’s up?”

“You wanna know what’s up?” I turn on him, eyes flashing angrily. “Avery’s here, and this fucker,” I growl, pointing at Brandon, “is holding out on me.”

West arches a brow at Brandon, who explains, “Minutes ago, Mr. Responsible was lecturing me on the flask I brought, saying we need to be disciplined and blah, blah, blah. But now he wants to get trashed.”

“Not trashed,” I say, risking a glance toward Avery, who’s laughing at something the girls said. “Just enough to take the edge off.”

So that I don’t explode in a fit of rage or make a fool out of myself.

I inhale, nostrils flaring as I recall my conversation with Avery in Chris’s apartment and add, “The last thing I want is for Avery to think I can’t handle being around her.”

Brandon and West exchange a knowing look. “But isn’t that exactly why you want a drink now?”

“Just shut the fuck up and give me the flask, will you? As your captain, I demand it,” I snap.

“Okay, okay.” With a sigh, Brandon pulls the metal flask from inside his pocket and says, “No need to get bossy.”

Chapter 12

AVERY

As soon as I walk in the door of the old town hall, I make a beeline for Charlotte and Brynn. One by one, they pull me into a hug, and once again, I’m struck by how open and kind they are.

“We’re so glad you could make it!” Brynn says, giving me one last squeeze before releasing me. “So far, we’ve avoided a near disaster with a DJ no-show, thanks to Samantha’s boyfriend, James, getting us the hookup, a couple furiously making out in the corner that bordered on X-rated, and an attempted punch spiking.”

I tip my head back and laugh. “Oh, to be in high school again.”

“Right?” Charlotte hip checks me. “I say, let ’em have a little fun.”

Brynn arches a brow at her, then turns to me and asks, “So, do you want to guard the punch?”

“There’s already?” Charlotte starts, then abruptly stops when her gaze settles on a table in the back of the hall. “Oh,right.”

Frowning, I follow her gaze and freeze at the sight of Damon, standing beneath the shadows in the corner, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

Spinning around, I give him my back while my heart bangs inside my chest. “Do you really think I should go over there already? I mean, I just got here.” Although they told me he’d be here, I’m suddenly wondering how smart it is to corner him.

A smile spreads Charlotte’s lips as she says, “Of course. It’s perfect.”

“Right, yes, perfect,” I reply, barely refraining from wringing my hands in front of my chest, almost certain Damon is going to lose his shit and cause a scene when he sees me.

But of course, these girls don’t know about our history, and when they find out the truth?that he’s not just a crush but a boy whose heart I once broke?they’ll probably want nothing more to do with me.

Regret washes over me as I shift my weight, wondering if I should stall. “Um, maybe I should wait a few minutes. See if he approaches me.”

“No way. You know how oblivious boys can be,” Brynn says, “Now is the perfect opportunity for the two of you to chat.” She has her arm on my back, guiding me closer. “He’s here. You’re here. There’s music. Dancing. Bad punch and cookies. And you’re all dressed up, showing an indecent amount of leg.”

“Nice dress, by the way.” Charlotte winks, then adds, “What my friend is trying to say is love is in the air. So, let’s go.”

Wasting no more time, Charlotte grabs my arm and drags me toward the refreshment table while I dig in my heels, frantic to stop her. So far, Damon hasn’t noticed me, but it’s only a matterof time until he does, and there’s no stopping what might come out of his mouth.

I plant my feet and Charlotte grunts at the resistance. “Come on,” she says, giving my arm one more tug.

My stomach sinks, the contents churning inside it like a vat of butter at the prospect of what Damon might say when I face him.

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