Chapter 4
Landon
I shouldn’t have had a party.
It didn’t take long for regret to settle into my gut as people started swarming into the place, and I didn’t even recognize a lot of the faces coming through the door.
A bunch of random people decided to crash because they heard there were drugs and booze and, if lucky, some boob and dick touching.
Plus, half the people here had probably never even set foot in a mansion in their lives.
I’d thought having people around would make it easier to keep my mind off Lance, but the night was proving me wrong. Even though people surrounded me, my memories of the best man who’d ever been in my life continued to consume me.
Forty-five.
He would’ve been forty-five today.
“Are you sure you don’t want to call the cops on your own party, get all these people kicked out, and then play video games?” Greyson asked me as we leaned against the fireplace in the living room while dozens of people pushed through the space, making messes I didn’t give a damn about.
“Nah, it’s fine.” I shrugged, brushing my hand across the back of my neck. He gave me a smile, but it was that fake Greyson smile, the one where he was overthinking shit. I nudged him. “Loosen up, will you? Just get a drink in your system and chill.”
“Yeah, all right. I just know that today is—”
“All right, I’ll catch you later,” I cut him off because I knew what he was going to say, and I had no desire to discuss said topic.
I patted my best friend on the back and hurried away, mainly because I didn’t want to deal with him questioning if I was OK every few seconds. I was fine, good as ever.
* * *
Later that night, like every night I had a party, I ended up in my bedroom.
I sat in my room with Greyson and Hank and my pit bull named Ham.
No one else was allowed in my bedroom, and if they stepped foot inside, I made sure to cuss them out and put the fear of Satan into their souls so they’d never come back.
Greyson always called me Scrooge after I snapped, and he wasn’t wrong.
I wasn’t polite about kicking them out of my room, but the last thing I needed in my life was some drunk couple screwing on my Italian sheets.
Plus, my bedroom was Ham’s safe place, and I didn’t need anyone screwing with my dog while they were drunk and high.
Hank smoked a joint and talked about mindless crap that kept my head from going to any really dark places.
“You guys getting the new SimCity game?” Greyson asked, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Hell yeah, it looks dope,” Hank said, taking a hit from the joint.
Hank sounded more excited than he needed to be about the game.
“I told my parents I’ve got the theater room for a whole month after it comes out.
I’m going to blow through it.” He went on and on about the game, as if SimCity was the second coming of Jesus.
“Hey, can I hit that?” a voice said from behind me.
I glanced up to see the Southern charmer standing there with his eyes glued to the joint in Hank’s hand. He walked into the room like he owned the place, plucked the joint from Hank’s hand, and took a big drag from it.
Before I could mention my room was off-limits to everyone but my closest friends, Reggie entered our conversation, turned it completely into his own—and it was a nonstop, one-sided talk about how great damn Kentucky was.
The food, the weed, the goddamn sports. I’d never seen a guy get such a hard-on from talking about a state in my life.
I wished I could get it up just by thinking about bluegrass music, bourbon, and Kentucky Fried Chicken.
“What’s up with the girls here?” he asked, glancing back and forth between us.
“What do you mean what’s up with them?” Hank asked.
“I’m looking for some random hookups. Do you know who would be down for that?”
I looked down at the ground to roll my eyes so hard. This guy was like the poster child of a douchebag. I could hardly handle it. He couldn’t be real, could he? He couldn’t be that damn transparent. I couldn’t believe all the girls at school were throwing themselves at him.
Hank shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been with Raine for years now, so I don’t really think about who to bang.”
When Hank made a commitment, he stuck to it. He and Raine would probably end up being one of those couples at a wedding, still on the dance floor after being married for sixty years or some shit.
Reggie kept talking, and I only allowed it because my friends were engaging with him.
Every time he smoked the joint and talked shit, I wanted to snatch it from his hands and tell him to piss off.
Sure, I wasn’t smoking anymore, but the supply was from KJ—my former dealer.
I knew it was the good stuff. Reggie didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
He went over to pet Ham, and Ham growled at him.
Good boy.
“If you want to know about the best girls in the sack, though, Landon here is the one to go to. He’s had more girls than Hugh Hefner,” Hank commented.
I groaned, not wanting to be dragged into this conversation with Reggie.
“What’s the deal with that Monica bitch?” Reggie asked.
“She’s not a bitch,” I snapped. What the heck? Was I now standing up for the likes of Monica? This night needed to end.
“Landon and Monica have a . . . history. I’d stay clear of that one,” Hank commented.
“You can do whatever you want. Monica is a free agent,” I muttered. I doubted she’d be interested in someone like Reggie, though. He was too young and inexperienced for her. Monica preferred men with children, or at least guys with damage that somewhat matched her own.
Reggie rubbed his hands together like a fool needing his next fix. “Come on, man. Give me some tips.”
“I really don’t know,” I said.
“Landon is being humble. If you’re looking for a guy who can get any girl, it’s him,” Hank said, and it sounded so cocky even though the words didn’t come from my own mouth.
“Except for Shay,” Reggie spat out, making me raise an eyebrow.
Wait, what?
“Excuse me?”
Reggie shrugged. “Tracey was telling me how the two of you hate each other’s guts. Which is crazy, because Shay is fucking hot. Too bad you can’t get that.”
Who was he to tell me who I could and couldn’t have?
“If I wanted Shay, I’d have her,” I stated nonchalantly. The douchebag was making my alpha douchebag side come out.
Greyson snickered under his breath but didn’t add to the conversation. He had a way of staying out of drama of any kind. He had enough shit going on at home, and I understood him not wanting to be involved in anything that wasn’t basketball.
“That’s wild that you think that, because the way Tracey made it sound, Shay would never give you the time of day,” Reggie pushed. I swore he was really trying to get under my skin.
“I could without question. I could even get her to fall in love with me if I wanted to,” I declared, and it sounded a lot more asshole-like than I wanted it to, but there I was, sounding like a jerk because I couldn’t stand Reggie challenging me.
“Uh, hey, you guys . . .” Greyson tried to cut in, but I wasn’t interested in being interrupted. This guy really thought he could come into my town, into my house, into my bedroom, and sit on my Italian sheets, and tell me what I was and wasn’t capable of doing.
“OK, so let’s get a nice, friendly bet going,” Reggie said, standing taller. “I bet you can’t get Shay to fall in love with you.”
“You guys,” Greyson said, clearing his throat. We ignored him some more.
“Bet,” I said, holding my hand out to him.
We shook hands.
“Really, boys, if you want to bet on me falling in love with someone, maybe you should include me in the bet,” Shay said, snapping my stare away from Reggie and to the doorway.
Her arms were crossed, and she was sporting her normal level of sass.
Her left hip was popped out, and she had an annoyed smirk on her lips.
“Geez, guys, a little warning wouldn’t have hurt,” I barked at my friends.
Greyson tossed his hands up in the air. “Whatever, I quit.”
“It was nothing,” I argued to Shay, shrugging it all off. “Just stupid guy talk.”
“Oh, please, don’t go limp so quickly because you got caught, Satan. If you think you could make me fall in love with you, then by all means, do it—but do understand that I want to play now, too.”
“Play? What do you mean?” Reggie asked.
“I mean exactly that. I bet I can make Landon fall in love with me first.”
Everyone cracked up laughing because they knew how ridiculous the concept of me falling in love was. I didn’t love. I hardly liked.
The idea that I’d fall in love with my biggest annoyance was beyond absurd.
“Listen, again, it was just stupid guy talk. Drop it, Chick,” I said.
“What’s the matter, Satan?” she asked, walking up to me, standing nose to nose. “You afraid you might catch feelings for someone you hate?”
That was one thing about Shay that I couldn’t argue with—she had bark to her. I would have bet behind the bark was a nice bite, too.
“Never, but I’m not going to waste my time focusing my energy on you.”
“Well, who’s the chicken now? Cluck, cluck, cluck.” She smirked as the guys all snickered under their breaths.
Traitors.
“You really want to play with this fire, Shay?”
“I’d love to see you try to burn me,” she replied, still smiling. I’d be lying if I said her alpha side wasn’t a tad bit attractive.
Hank rubbed his hands together. “Now that’s a challenge I can get behind. Two sworn enemies in a battle of love, and the winner—”
“Has bragging rights for the rest of our lives.” Shay kept her brown eyes locked with mine, not backing down. I wasn’t going to back down either.
“What if no one falls in love?” Hank asked.
“Then at the end of this year, the bet is off. We have until Christmas to make it happen,” Shay explained.