18. Mac
MAC
The noise level in the house escalates as more and more people arrive. I invited everyone on my Nolan U contact list and told them to bring a friend… and they did. Some of them brought three, but I’m all about that shit.
Bring on the chaos.
Bring on the hotties.
My eyes travel over each one as they walk through my front door.
I lean against the wall with my arms crossed, eyeing up what’s on the menu for tonight and deciding who to start with.
There’s the redhead with the freckles. I do love that bright splash of color.
She walks into the place, her eyes big and full of awe as she drinks in her lavish surroundings.
I’m sure she’d be easy to persuade. She’s so enamored by everything, hooking up with me wouldn’t be a hard sell, but…
I don’t know. There’s a sweetness to her I don’t want to touch.
She’s with her girlfriends and… yeah, she’s not it.
So my eyes move on.
Sawyer appears beside me, his lips rising at the edges while he thinks the same thing I am: Who’s my hookup gonna be for the night?
Personally, I never think it’s worth restricting yourself to just one girl.
The night is young, and there’s plenty of time. You know what I’m saying?
“I call dibs on the brunette,” Sawyer says out the side of his mouth, lifting his chin at the busty girl with long brown hair who just walked in the door. She’s in a dress that hides absolutely nothing… and she knows it.
The second her eyes hit mine, the tip of her tongue peeks out the side of her mouth. She’s practically screaming for it.
Where’s the challenge in that?
“Go for it, man.” I tip my head at Sawyer, who gives her a winning smile.
She shrugs, moving toward him like a cat about to pounce.
Sawyer steps forward with a laugh. “Oh, honey, you obviously got the memo. You look tasty tonight, sweetness.”
She giggles. “Can’t pass up a chance to party with a Cougar, now can I?”
Her clawlike nails skim lightly down his chest, and he grabs her fingers, kissing her knuckles before pulling her farther into the house.
That whole Cougar thing is bullshit. We’re not the hockey hotties or the football team.
People don’t respect us the same way, but shit…
maybe she doesn’t know that. Some of these girls are clueless about sports.
They just hear “Cougar” and come running.
One athlete’s the same as the next, right?
Who gives a fuck if they’re on a winning team or not.
I guess that works out well for us.
I watch them go, surprised Darian’s not beside his best friend. Those two are always competing for the ladies. It’s usually a friendly thing, hassling each other and betting over who has more game.
But Darian’s not even trying tonight.
He’s too busy helping Charli and Nix with—
Oh, I get it.
He’s got a hard-on for the pixie girl. Nice.
I silently wish him the best of luck before turning back to my assignment.
And that’s when I spot a pair of blue eyes. They’re calling to me, and I’m almost surprised when my gaze trails down her body and I don’t see a mermaid tail. This woman with the stunning smile is a siren, and I push off the wall, drawn to her enigmatic mouth.
I like going after the confident ones.
The girls who think they’re all that.
The ones who only want to fuck me because of my car or my money.
This girl knows exactly who I am, I can tell. So why not have a little fun with her? She doesn’t really give a shit about me, so I don’t have to give a shit about her either.
We can spend the night together, have some good times, and then be on our way.
Fucking perfect.
“Hey.” I quirk my eyebrow at the girl when she stops in front of me.
“Hey.” She brushes her teeth over her glossy bottom lip before smiling again. “Finn MacAlister, right?”
“People call me Mac.”
“I like it.” Her voice is kind of husky, super sultry, and it sends tendrils of anticipation curling through me. “I’m Chelsea.”
Oh yeah. My body is going to fucking love me for this.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Yes, please.”
I tip my head, and she follows me. I want to make sure I have a proper read on this girl before I take things further. A drink or two will loosen her up, and then I’ll know for sure if she’s worth it.
I’m not out to break hearts, and I don’t want anyone too pure or sweet.
We go into this thing knowing what it is and I can avoid the drama.
“Here you go.” I hand her a cup of beer, then move her aside so we don’t block the kitchen area.
Pulling her into a quieter corner, I lean my shoulder against the wall and start with a little small talk. “You’re from Nolan U, right?”
“Yeah, I’m about to start my third year.”
“Me too.” I nod.
“I know.” She grins. “I’ve been watching you.”
“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” My fingers start to tingle.
Shit, I want a joint. I’ve been trying to quit, I really have, but summer with my family has put me on edge all over again, and pot eases the tension like nothing else can.
But I want to be sharp for this party. I don’t want to miss out on anything because I’m too wasted to appreciate a good fuck.
But now she’s looking at me like she knows something more about me than I want her to… and it makes me want to get fucking high.
I gulp my beer instead, wondering why she’s looking at me like this. Shit.
“Well, you caught my eye because, well… you’re hot and…” She bites her bottom lip, her cheeks tinging pink.
My insides harden. “And?”
“Well, I might have googled you and found out that you’re related to Reena O’Shea.” Her eyes light up while my stomach takes a nosedive out my ass. “Holy shit. Your mom’s like super famous.”
“Yep.” I pop the p and look away from her, gulping down half my glass.
“That must be so cool. Do you get to go to premieres and stuff?” She gasps and snatches my arm. “Have you ever been to the Oscars?”
I clench my jaw and want to tell her that no amount of money on Earth would make me go to some red-carpet event with that heartless bitch!
Shit, I need to ditch this girl ASAP.
“I’m actually taking some drama classes,” she goes on, oblivious to the icy change in temperature that’s happening right now. “I tried for performing arts schools, but they’re so impossibly hard to get into, so now I’m just doing an arts degree and studying acting in my spare time.”
Great, so she wants to use me to get to my mom. Not happening, Blue Eyes.
I should tell her she’s fresh out of luck, but she’s going on about how she wants to be the Meryl Streep of her generation, and it’s taking maximum effort not to laugh in her face. She couldn’t even get into a performing arts school, and she thinks she can follow in Meryl’s wake?
Please.
I had the chance to meet her once, you know.
Mom invited me to some party in Los Angeles, but by then I was so over her bullshit that I stopped responding to her texts and voicemails. She’d let me down one too many times, and I was done.
That’s what happens when you break a kid’s heart on repeat. It stops beating.
“So, yeah. I just think you’re so amazingly lucky to have such a talented mother.”
Oh, you mean a woman who cared so little about me that she abandoned me to pursue her career? Only showing up when she needed to drag a kid along for her image?
Yeah, I’m the luckiest guy on the fucking planet.
I give her a stiff smile, taking in those dreamy blue eyes and knowing that this girl doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me. She wants an in with Mother Dearest, and she thinks I can get her one.
This isn’t just a “have some fun with a guy at a party” night for her. She came here with very clear intentions, and I am going to have so much fun not meeting them.
You know what?
It will be my fucking pleasure not to ditch this girl.
Instead, I’m gonna have me a good time—see how far she’s really willing to go for her own gain.
And then I can flick her off, because girls like this deserve to go down.
Women tend to be unreliable. They’ve proven that to me time and time again. It’s always a refreshing change to turn the tables on them.