"Dude, what the fuck are you doing hiding in here?" Alex crashes through my bedroom door a few hours later. "Pity party for one, really?" he asks, taking in the bottle of vodka in my hand.
"I'm not in the mood."
"Nuh-uh. I'm not having that. The party is fucking hopping."
I stare at him as he comes closer, taking in his blown pupils. "What the hell have they given you?"
"Nah, it's not like that. Sasha gave me some pills. Everything is fucking epic, man. I feel so good. You gotta come down. The girls are fucking insane."
"I don't want girls, Alex. I'm not fucking interested."
"Wellll then," he says, falling down onto my bed and grinning up at me, "you should come down and see Mia. She's wearing this little dre—"
"Enough," I bark, not needing any more visuals than I already have floating around in my head about what could be happening downstairs.
"Come on, Easton. Don't be so fucking boring."
I narrow my eyes at him. "What's going on with you?" He’s even starting to sound like one of them.
"What?" he slurs. "I'm just enjoying this shitshow we landed ourselves in. What's the alternative? Be a miserable fuck like you?"
I stare at him, my jaw popping with frustration.
"Brook's looking for you."
I can't help but laugh. If he thinks that's going to get me down there, then he really has popped too many pills.
"Apparently," he says, leaning in as if he's got a secret, "she's looking for someone to distract Mia so she can get to Cade. He must be better than you, man. She doesn't seem to be begging for your cock." He bursts out laughing.
"You need to get a grip of yourself, Alex. Haven't they already pulled enough shit on us?"
"Why do you think I'm letting go, bro?” He shrugs. “I'm just enjoying myself."
"Yeah," I mutter, dumping my bottle on the nightstand and pushing from the bed. "A little too much, by the looks of it."
Dragging my shirt over my head, I dump it into the laundry basket before pulling on a clean one and shoving my feet into my sneakers. "What the fuck are you waiting for then?" I bark at Alex when I'm at the door with my fingers wrapped around the handle and he's still pissing around on my bed.
"Knew I'd get you to come and join the fun." He leaps up, swaying a little.
Fuck. He’s as high as a kite.
"Whatever,” I murmur, storming from my room.
As we get closer to the stairs, the music begins to get louder and the scent of weed and whatever else is being smoked down there gets stronger. I almost change my mind, but Alex stumbles on the top step and I end up damn near carrying him down to stop him from breaking his fucking neck.
"You need to lay off whatever it is you've had."
"Chill, Bexy," he slurs, slapping my chest. "S'all good, man."
My hackles rise immediately at his little nickname for me. "You been hanging out with Moore?"
"Yeah, so? It's not like you want to hang out anymore. You just sulk in your room."
Guilt washes through me. I've been so consumed with my own bullshit life this week that I've forgotten about him. I assumed that while I was hiding in my room, he was doing the same, not that he was making fast friends with those assholes.
"Rexford, my man," Brandon shouts, stumbling into the room. "I've got these two chicks in the study. One of them really wants to meet you." He nods at me, but he looks less than excited to discover that I've finally decided to join them.
Alex disappears a few seconds later, the promise of pussy apparently enough to make him forget me.
Standing in the middle of the chaos, I wonder what the hell happened to my life. Wondering at what point my best friend decided that if you can't beat them, join them, because he's turning into one of them faster than I can cope with.
I scan the crowd of people loitering in the hallway. Most are just chatting, but there are a few dancing and there's a couple bumping up against the old grandfather clock who are about five seconds from fucking in front of everyone in the room.
"Bexley," a sickly-sweet voice says from behind me, making my skin crawl.
I take off in the hope she might get distracted, but she chases after me, her killer heels clattering against the polished marble tiles as she goes.
"What do you want, Brook?"
She darts around me, forcing me to stop. Although I must admit that mowing her down does seem like a good option. "I've been looking for you," she purrs, batting her fake lashes at me.
"Great. Well, you found me. Now, do you mind?" I forcefully move her aside and march toward the kitchen. I need more alcohol now I'm down here.
"Mia and Cade are on the dancefloor." I hate that her words make my steps falter. "Yeah, grinding it all up against each other without a care in the world."
"That's their prerogative, I guess."
"And you're happy to let that happen?"
"What the fuck do you want me to do about it, Brook? She's been promised to him. That's it. Done."
"Oh, come on, Bexy. You’re not very clever, are you?"
What is it with that fucking nickname all of a sudden? My teeth grind so hard I wonder if I'm about to crack one.
"I didn't have you down as someone who gives in so easily. Let's go and have some fun, show them what they're really missing." She winks at me and runs her hand down my arm.
"I don't play games, Brook,” I growl.
"No? Seems to be that your entire life is one big game right now."
She's got that fucking right.
It's one big joke as well.
"You're a boring fuck when you're not tripping, you know that?"
I stare at her, my lips parting to argue, but quite frankly, she's got
