Page 87 of The Golden Boys
“Get off me.”
A confused glare meets mine through the dark. “What?”
“You deaf? I said get the fuck off me.”
Sydney scoffs when she slides onto the mattress and grabs her clothes, then slams the bathroom door behind her to make sure I know she’s pissed. Not realizing I couldn’t care less what she’s feeling. She’ll be forgotten by morning. Already is.
Which begs the question why one, in particular, is stuck in my head like a bad song.
Or … a good one.
Damn.
I’ve rationalized it a million times, a million different ways. Reminding myself why she’s off limits. Reminding myself why I should be disgusted by the merethoughtof touching her, but it doesn’t work. Every time I close my eyes, I see that face.
That one face.
Now, with what she claimed tonight, she’s gotten even deeper inside my head. She could’ve said anything. Could’ve lied and said she was a virgin. Could’ve lied and said she’d been with a few. But instead, she told me about Ricky—that he’d been the first and only. A very specific response.
One that would blow my entire theory out the water if it were true.
However, because of that seed of doubt being planted, I can’t even think straight.
She said something else that stuck with me. The joke she made about my “hit list” being too long to share in a night. While I make no apologies for how many chicks I’ve been with, I’m not proud of everything I’ve done. The reminder prompted one ghost, in particular, to resurface. One that haunts me despite her being alive and well, despite there not actually being bad blood between us.
And that ghost’s name is Casey.
That One slip up in judgment would make me a shit candidate for holdinganyone’ssins against. Only, where my mission with Southside is concerned, it’s never been about me. It’s been about the only one who’s truly innocent in all this—my mother.
“Just so you know, I’m gonna tell everyone you couldn’t even get it up, asshole,” Sharon shouts at the back of my head on her way out of the room.
Say whatever you want. My reputation in bed precedes me, bitch.
She isn’t worth the breath it would take to say these words aloud, but they’re true.
I stand, get rid of the wasted condom, then find my pants on the floor. After zipping them, I grab the half empty beer I set on the nightstand, then walk to the end of the hallway where laughter flows in from an open set of French doors.
“Did I miss anything good?” I ask, leaning over the balcony rail to stare down at the pool. We’ll pay for having yet another party here at the Bellvue house, but it’ll be worth it.
“Nope,” Sterling says with a sigh, slouching lower in his seat, a total of three girls surrounding him. Two perched on the arms of his chair, another in his lap.
If somethingdidhappen, he would’ve missed it.
Turning away, I smile.
“What about you?” Dane asks with a grin.
I face him slowly, still pissed with the stunt he pulled a few hours ago at the dance. Not to mention, my wallet is now $500 lighter.
When my only response to his question is to look away, he laughs.
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Joss hiccups.
I turn again, just as she drops down into Dane’s lap. If I didn’t already know she was drunk, I would now. She never lets her guard down with him, never blurs the lines for fear of where it might lead.
He’s tipsy, too. So, when he bites his lip with lust heavy in his eyes, then begins to slide a hand between Joss’s thighs, I save him from himself.
“Joss, we’re calling you an Uber,” I offer. “Your dad’ll be pissed you’re drunk, but more than that, he’ll be happy when you make it home alive.”