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taken advantage of her at a weak moment, and, of course, he believed her. This was where his current chip with me remained in place on his shoulder. If you asked me, that chip should be with Genevieve, because I swore the girl still undressed me with her eyes every time she saw me.
    Drew’s face changed to beet red. The veins in his neck bulged and his jaw grew tense. I wanted to laugh. He hated it when I brought up the fact that I’d slept with Genevieve and he was playing house with my sloppy seconds. I wasn’t an asshole woman-hater; I simply enjoyed fucking with Drew. Make that people in general. Some would describe me as a trust fund baby addict with asshole tendencies. I liked to describe myself as someone who knew how to live life to the fullest and had a shit-ton of personality.
    “I highly doubt that,” Drew seethed. “She’s grown up. We all have…except for you. Some people never change, do they? Are you planning on living like you’re sixteen for the rest of your life?”
    I stalked across the main room and into the open kitchen, purposely making him and everyone else wait for my response. Nothing in this house had changed since I’d been gone. Well, nothing besides the paint color. Candace, Craig’s mom, painted the walls in the kitchen at least twice a year. She was an interior decorator and constantly changed things around in her house—wall colors being one of them.
    I opened the fridge and grabbed one of the Heinekens I saw in everyone’s hands. Pulling my lighter from my pocket, I popped the top off and took a long swig.
    “You only live once,” I said. I opened the fridge again, and grabbed two more beers. Clasping them tightly in one hand, I headed through the kitchen and into the dining room.
    The French doors leading to the backyard and the pergola porch were my destination. I had a few phone calls to make, and I needed peace and quiet to do so. The last thing I wanted was for any of the assholes inside to figure out what I was doing and tip Craig off. No, I wanted him to come back from dropping off gorgeous at her place to find his house chock-full of the rowdiest people I could round up.
    Picturing his expression in my head, I sat down in one of the wooden lounge chairs that overlooked the backyard, set my extra beers beside me, and dug my phone out of my pocket. Tipping my beer back, I scrolled through my contacts, wondering who I could call that would come liven up this party on such short notice, and smiled. Craig’s party was about to get crashed.
     

 

CHAPTER THREE
    PAIGE
     
    “What did he say to you that had you laughing so hard when I came out?” Craig asked. His voice was clipped, as if he was pissed at me for something.
    I thought for a moment, realizing if he was pissed because of that, then he definitely didn’t want to know what had been said to make me laugh. I hated how I always seemed to be walking on eggshells with him lately. “Nothing really, just introductions. I was trying to be friendly.”
    “Well, future reference, don’t. Don’t be friendly with him. He’s a player of the worst kind and an addict. He’s no good.” Craig’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, and I noticed him gritting his teeth together. I’d never seen him this serious about something.
    “Okay. So what’s he doing at your house, then? You obviously know him. Is he your brother or something?” An image of Cameron flitted through my mind, and I doubted he was Craig’s brother. Half-brother, maybe?
    “Fuck no, he’s not my brother.” Craig cut a sharp right onto Clearcove Avenue. “He’s just someone’s son my parents used to be close friends with. His parents died when he was sixteen, and my parents sort of became his legal guardians. He’s not my brother.”
    I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and glanced at my chipped nail polish. My heart sank to my stomach at the knowledge of his parents dying when he was a teenager. Granted, I didn’t always get along